Children Of The Sky (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 2)

Chapter 19 •|•

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS THEMES OF SEXUAL ASSAULT AND MAY BE TRIGGERING. Read at your own risk.

***

Everything was numb. The throbbing in Lillian's hand was dulled by it, the pounding of her heart as she walked down the hall in tears was dulled by it, the force of feeling threatening to consume her was dulled by it.

She'd understood, in those moments, standing in front of Michael as Naru held a knife to Nyle's throat, every bit of what Crynia had felt when she traded the amulet for Sam's life. She understood the panic, the desperation, the longing, the helplessness.

The fear.

The sobs were threatening to choke her by the time she reached her rooms and shakily dismissed the servants who awaited her, locking the door after them. Shutting herself in the bathroom, she wept until her tears ran dry.

***

It was a good two hours before she calmed herself enough to bathe, cleaning her face of dried tears and ruined makeup and changing into the nightgown left on her bed by the servants. It took three mouthfuls of water to rinse Michael's taste out of her mouth from when he'd kissed her, and even then she could still feel the revolting pressure of it whenever she moved, alongside the dull pain of the bruise where he'd struck her the second time in a day.

She couldn't get Nyle's face out of her mind as she wrapped her hand in a piece of linen, hiding the red tattoo-like line that'd been seared into her skin where she'd cut herself. His words, and his expression, had nearly snapped her will then and there, nearly stopped her from saying the vows and swearing herself to a man she didn't love to save the man she did. Lillian shut her eyes and took a shaky breath, forcing the image away. She didn't know where he was, now, or what they were doing to him. It'd looked like he'd been beaten before the ceremony; the thought of it made her sick.

Lifting the sheets to crawl beneath them, Lillian ran a hand through her damp hair and and tossed one of the overstuffed pillows onto the other side of the bed. Her feet ached where she'd cut them on the glass earlier; she'd need to bandage them later if she could.

She froze with one knee on the mattress when the lock on her door clicked and the door inched open. Everything in her tensed when Michael stepped in and shut the door behind him, his back to her. He'd changed out of his formal clothing and into something more casual, loose pants and a tunic untucked at the waist.

Pulling her leg off the bed and setting both feet on the floor, Lillian waited for him to say something. He didn't move for a long moment, his hand splayed on the door, and when he did turn, he rubbed his eyes first as if clearing tears. His eyes were wet when he faced her, but his expression remained impassive as before.

"Why are you here?" Lillian managed after he didn't say anything. Her voice came out hushed.

"You are my wife now, Lillian, and this is our wedding night, on which it is traditional to consummate the oath," he replied evenly. "Why do you suppose I'm here?"

A chill ran through her as she paled, taking a step back. "No. I won't."

"You will," Michael pressed, taking a step forward to match her step back despite the bed between them. Lillian eyed the replaced lamp on the nightstand as fear flurried in her chest. It was on the other side of the bed. She'd have to make it past him to reach it.

She didn't have a chance to as Michael skirted the bed and tried to approach her. Breath hitching, she backed away, pulse beating a quick rhythm beneath her skin.

Snatching her wrist away when he reached out, she held up the hem of her nightgown and backed around him so her back was to the bed, his to the wall. He winced when he moved again, shutting his eyes briefly, and she furrowed her brow as her breathing quickened and she reached for the lamp. The flame wavered, casting shadows around the room.