The Haunted Memories (Forgotten Series, #4)

Memory VII

I was... confused.

The emotion had finally come closer, allowing me to see it fully through the chaos.

Malak was being... gentle.

But no where else but the bed in his room. It had started the first night that the moon had not come up, her cycle keeping her light from the sky but that was not what confused me. Malak had joined me on the bed, wrapping me up loosely in his arms as he murmured an apology to me for being late. He had grasped one of my hands, playing with my fingers as he crooned to me how beautiful I looked in the moonlight, how delicate I was, how soft.

He had complimented every inch of me, following his words with a soft and gentle touch that my body adored and my mind detested. Chaos had clashed inside of my skull, reminding me that he had torn me in two. Still, his touch had been soft, his words gentle on my skin as he praised me for gaining weight, for trying so hard to be well. He had run his hand through my hair as he curled around me just a fraction tighter. He would inhale and tell me I smelled like a midnight run, that I smelled like the night sky.

My body liked the gentle Malak he was showing us. My mind... well my mind was a different type of demon. It had been tormented and twisted by the darkness. It had focused on its hate for Malak to get us through somewhat sane but it refused to let it go, my mind was not my own without that hate. Just like my body had no longer been my own with the bond forced onto it.

The bed dipped and I stiffened even as my body demanded I relax. Large hands wrapped around me and I was gently pulled so I was pressed to a hard chest. "Little lamb, why are you not sleeping?" His voice rumbled through me and I stared at the darkness that covered the spot on the floor where the moon used to shine in. It was too cloudy for her light to reach me. I could hear her but not see her.

"Chaos." A simply word that had him nuzzling the back of my head with his nose, his hot breath brushing the nape of my neck. Shivers cascaded down me spine at it.

"Shall I take a look?" He didn't wait for permission before his mind brushed against mine. The faintest whisper of a touch but I had to wince at the sudden twisting and tearing as the two beings inside of me fought and screamed at one another. Instinct against instinct. He let out a low sigh as that touch retreated before he reached up and rubbed at my temple. It was as if he believed his touch could soothe the damage he had wrought within my mind. "So much chaos, Maggie. Are you okay?" Words danced on my tongue and I held them back. I would never be okay again. I knew that. I had been inherently damaged by him and it was something I could never heal from.

"Just hurts." A faint truth on my lips. It always hurt. Especially when he was near. I couldn't push through, couldn't think with him by my side. He has ruined the calm of my body, he had thrown me from my calm serenity into a chaotic and stormy ocean and I was slowly drowning. I clawed for air, inhaling nothing but liquid as I fought for the surface. Forever gasping, forever attempting to breathe and survive under the cold crushing weight of the chaotic ocean I found myself in, that he had tossed me into.

"You will be okay. You just need more sleep." Gentle hands ran over my skin, sending goosebumps across the surface of my flesh. Such a simple action caused so much pain. "I ran more trials for the males wanting to be in the upper guard. There were many contenders." His voice was low as he pressed his lips to the nape of my neck. I could feel the effect I had on him but it brought me no embarrassment. He had seen every inch of me bared to his scrutiny, he had initiated lower forms of intimacy with me even as I healed. He had trained me to no longer feel what I wished.

My mind was repulsed by him and my body craved him. Always at odds, scraping and bashing the insides of my skull. It was never still, always fighting. One against the other as torn halves shoved and screamed at one another for what he had done to us.

"Would you like to..." His voice trailed off as his large, hot hand moved down my body, his suggestion clear. He was always wishing to take what was his. He had shown my body what pleasure was, he knew how to stoke it into a raging fire that could consume the world but my mind made me painfully aware of just how much we hated him for doing so. "Hmmmm, little lamb?" I didn't answer. He would do as he willed with my body's permission. It would never deny him and would always make a liar out of me.

As he rolled me onto my back I tuned the world out, pulling away, unwilling to endure the screaming of my mind as my body, the bond, and instincts took over. It was better to live in denial, to put myself in the corner with my hands over my ears. If I wasn't truly there then I couldn't witness my own internal destruction.

I was faintly aware of clothes coming off as limbs tangled together. My body moving on instinct alone. He had trained it well. He started the fire and he let my body burn to a crescendo then put it out expertly. I could feel it, the pleasure my body got from his touch. There was a small part of my mind that liked it as well. Not all of it, but enough of it that it overwhelmed even my mind's loudest screams of anger and hate. It saturated my brain in chemicals that made it want him. How my mind hated him for it.

This time was different. His large form settled over us and then there was a harsh stinging pain at the burning core of the fire he started. It dimmed and my mind screamed loudly, hurling abuse at him that my mouth would never allow to spill out.

Wetness filled my eyes as the pain made me blink up at him. I didn't want to be there, to feel so vulnerable with him above me. He stroked my face with one hand, trailing soft kisses across my face as he murmured his apologies. He was pleased, satisfied that I had remained pure. It was something else for his darkness to take. I forced my eyes closed, unwilling to be at the front. I refused to allow myself to participate in what my body demanded.

Malak might have had my body's permission to take pleasure from my flesh but he was still raping my soul. My body was so eager for him, willing to allow him the intimacy he craved but my soul wept at our inability to choose, to say no. My soul bled for the fact that no matter how loudly my mind screamed no, my mouth would always say yes.

Torn in two, never together, always apart.

Malak could own my body, remove the last bits of who I was with one thrust of his hips but he would never be able to own my soul. It rankled and burned under the claim he had over it. It thrashed and howled its fury at being unwillingly caged.

Malak could control the beast that was the pleasure consuming my body in a glorious fire. That made my hands reach up to touch him, to clutch him. He could control it, sending me into a spiral where my body moved with him, twisted and ached, needing more. He could control my body with one look and one touch. He could own my body, possess it, and twist it to what he desired. He could do whatever he wished with my body. It was his beast now, the bond's claim was cemented.

But Malak could never own my soul. My soul was its own creature. I was of the moon and she was of me and I knew that she could see how my soul blistered and rubbed against his claim. How it fought so desperately to be free of the shackles that bound it to the living nightmare that threatened to drown us in the chaos he had given me. The moon could see his dirty and stained soul next to mine and she could see how it hurt.

The moon whispered at me constantly, telling me to hold on, that I would be with her soon. I believed her and I would hold on tightly, oh so tightly. I would endure all that Malak gave me. I would allow him to own my body and cage my soul. I would allow him to tear me in two over and over again as my mind and body fought. Love against hate. I would allow my soul its futile attempts at escaping his darkly tight grasp.

I would endure it all because the moon promised me I would one day touch her and I held onto that just as tightly as my body now held onto him. The pleasure was its own type of cruel beast, it was hot and searing. Much like the fiery beast that had consumed my home. Except I knew there was no way to stop the beast Malak had unleashed in me. Only he had that ability. He could manipulate it, control it, and use it to his will.

But he could never touch my soul. The moon would destroy him if he tried.

Malak had his beasts at his heels and I had my own. His darkness against her light. Only one could ever win and the moon had never lost. He was a fool for thinking he had won when the moon and I knew that the game had only just begun.