Page 32 of Painter's Obsession: Volume II

But this time is different, the earth opens and light sprinkles in the dark. My eyes burn trying to adjust to the brightness in the room. Using my elbow, I weakly prop my body up, trying to moisten my lips with my non-existent saliva as I watch my savior covered in sunlight. Dressed in all black, the prince of Hell has come to bring me salvation. “Ren.”

“Do you understand now?” he asks as he walks towards me, unaffected by the filth, by the smell. It’s as ifhe welcomed the rot, the destruction, and I wanted to kill him for it. Wrap my hands around his pretty neck and push my cock deep in his throat, watch me fuck the life out of him. If he wants me to create,hewill become my final creation. If he was going to destroy me, it was only fitting I return the favor, but he holds my emotions like a leash. A puppet orchestrated by his movements because he holds my heart in his hand, and he’s more than capable of crushing it. Devouring it.

He bends in front of me, his onyx eyes inspect me like I’m some form of specimen, lifting my eyes, I meet his. There’s nothing. No emotion. No connection.

“Do you understand?”

I dip my chin slowly, before I respond weakly. “Yes.”

“Good, I have just the lesson for you.” He smacks my cheek weakly. “Or test, it all depends how you look at it. But first, a shower and food.”

Food.

I know I shouldn’t. I know what I’ll be eating, but I also know what I need to do... what is neededof me.

Shower.

Food.

I repeat it in my head like a mantra, and again I dip my chin, watching as a devilish grin spreads across his gorgeous features. “Good, I was hoping we could come to an agreement.” Ren pats my head like I’m a dog before he stands, cocking his head towards the light. He offers me his hand, and I could break down. I can let myself die here, end it all, because the light in my case doesn’t mean salvation—it’s damnation. My soul... myself, offered up on a silver platter. His muse.

My hand trembles as it moves towards his, a fitting moment of the Creation of Adam, but it was the fall of Byron. Our hands connect, his delicate long fingers intertwining with mine before he squeezes my hand, grounding me to him, to this moment. I couldn’t disconnect, no matter how much I wanted to. I follow his lead out of this hell and into the light... into the devil’s lair. The cabin is warm with the smell of herbs filling the air, and my hunger pangs intensify. My mouth salivates. I cast a look at the set table, the plates placed for us, and the steam that comes from the area.

“Shower first,” Ren chimes from in front of me, as if sensing I’m like a dog waiting for its meal. Days that I’ve gone without food or water... and yet the need to protect my sister is what moves me. The one feeling that’s become unyielding... it’s not a need. It’s a will that was imprinted on me the day I held her in my arms. I made a promise that I will always protect her, and it’s one I intend to keep.

He guides me towards the bathroom, but my eyes lock in on the door that holds his studio, and I think back to that woman. Making my stomach churn at the thought that I ate... ate... no food.

No.

No.

Eat. NO.

“Byron,” a soft, deep voice calls to me as soft hands cradle my face. My devil comes into view, his short eyebrows knit together—a master of faces. “Why resist the unavoidable?” he whispers, leaning into me, pressing our noses together.

“Cannibalism was a form of love inancient times.”

Rubbing his nose against mine as his hands press harder against my cheeks.

“To consume means to love. It’s immortalizing that,” he breathes.

“It’s creation, one I wouldn’t have found if it weren’t for you... my muse. If you wouldn’t have destroyed my foundations.”

Ren pulls back.

“Don’t fight it. It’s pointless. Just let me consume you,” he says, before turning away and walking towards the shower, and turning it on. Rolling up his sleeve, “Come, you’re filthy,” he says, but there’s no disdain or disgust in his tone. It’s actually the opposite—it’s caring and soft. Begrudgingly, I move slowly towards him. Stepping into the shower, I turn my back to him and soak under the hot water that stings my skin. We don’t speak, but I know he’s still there, watching.

“Love,” Ren says behind me, and I still.

“That’s why.”

Love and Ren aren’t words that go together, and to say the least, I’m stunned.

“I became intrigued with the love you have for your sister, breaking you and destroying it.”

I grit my teeth, my hands rest on the tile anchoring me, preventing me from passing out from the steam as I listen to his twisted words.

“You hate me because I love my sister?” I ask, confused.

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