A Deal With the Devil

Chapter 22

Kassandra's POV

I still couldn't get over the fact that Ravanna went out of her way to get this kind of car for me, well for us, really.

I really wanted to see what this beast could do, I wanted to push it passed its limits and just lose myself in its movements.

But I didn't.

I drove us home.

Home.

It feels so weird to even think of the concept.

Actually having a place to call home.

A place were pictures are hung up in the hallway and not thrown away or taken down.

A place were there are no foul memories of beatings.

A place where I could freely express myself and wear clothing that weren't ripped, torn or bloody.

An actual home.

Throughout these past four torturous years, I forgot what it felt like to actually call someplace home let alone actually have it feel that way.

In all my musing, I realized that we arrived.

I turn off the car and just sit there, in a car that's parked in the driveway of a beautiful house. A house that I would have never thought I'd be living in.

Kassandra?

I turn to her and see her concerned and bewildered expression.

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Ravanna's POV

She turned to me with tears in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks, a broken expression had invaded her face but happiness within her eyes and upon her lips.

She unbuckles her seat beat and gets out of the car, I hurry to follow after her.

"Kassandra?"

We shut the doors and I move around the car as to be closer to her.

She stands there looking at the house, her arms are wrapped around herself as tears rapidly fall from her face.

I gather her in my arms and hold her. I do not know what thought process occurred to warrant this reaction but I will hold her for as long as she needs me to.

Her head is tucked beneath my chin and her arms are strung tightly around my waist, her shoulders move up and down with the force of her breaths.

I have always wondered how she can make no sound when she cries, the only indication is that first deep breath that is inhaled. Afterwards, everything is silent; the breaths she takes, the way she sniffles, every movement is silent.

"Thank you," I hear.

"Thank you so much."

I lean backwards and brush stubborn strands of hair out of her face.

"Whatever for?" I ask.

"For everything." She says with such earnestness that I am breathless.

I smile at her and lay a kiss upon her brow, "Is everything alright?" I whisper against her hair.

I hear her laugh and it is such a beautiful sound.

"Yeah," she tilts her head up to meet my gaze, her eyes shining with such incredible warmth and light, "for the first time in a really long while, everything is." She says this so softly that I have to slightly strain my ears but when it is processed, I smile.

I gather her in my arms once more and feel her bury herself into me. This was the only way to hide my facial expression from her as I frown.

Everything is ok for now, but how long?

How long do she and I have until heaven comes for her?

How long do we have until she realizes who and what she is?

How long until the battle that will soon take place in her mind?

How long?