Page 99 of Deliria

My insides still feel sensitive. My nerves are all over the place but, physically, I guess I’m already healing.

As I shift slightly, those strong arms loosen enough to tell me Rafe is also awake.

“You okay?” He murmurs into my ear, softly.

I’m not sure what response to make. Am I okay? I just lost something precious, something undefinable, and yet something I never wanted. I feel guilty for the relief I feel, and heartbroken at the fact that I never even got a chance to consider what might happen if I had managed to keep it. I’d not even gotten the moment to think, to dream, to come up with silly scenarios in my head of carrying this child, of nursing it, cradling it, caring for it.

A deep longing pang seems to tear at my heart, but now is not the time to dwell on this.

Now is not the time for grief.

Now is the time to focus, to plan, to remember who the fuck I am and why I’m on this damned island in the first-place.

Grief can come later. Trauma can damn well wait until I’m ready to face it.

I’ll channel all of it, all of those awful twisting emotions and use it as my fuel to burn this place down.

Rafe lets out a deep breath and I turn enough to look at him.

He looks so unlike his family, so unlike Alex and Vincent. I can see the strain of this in his eyes too. While Alex has that whole silver fox thing going, Rafe has barely a wisp of grey. His skin is rougher than his brother’s too, but while Alex’s was smooth, it was too smooth, too perfect.

I run my fingertips over the hint of wrinkles on his forehead before bringing them down, taking my time to study him. He’s beautiful- in that deadly, dangerous way. Without his t-shirt on, I can see all the tattoos that have been only hinted at before. Oh, I know I’ve technically seen him naked, have already fucked him,but that memory is hazy. That girl was half me, half someone else.

But the weak Scarlett is gone. The confused Scarlett is no more. I’m me, the real me.

The one that put herself into this trap. Who agreed to everything two years ago. Who laid her head down on that block, knowing a blade was going to come crashing down at any second.

There’s a silence that hangs between us, but it feels precious. Like just saying one word would fracture whatever this is and then I’ll wake up and realise that it’s in my head. That it was never real. That this too is just further proof of my insanity.

His eyes, deep and steady, hold me in place, anchoring me in a moment that seems to stretch for eternity. I try to look away, to break the spell, but the vulnerability pulsing in my chest tethers me to him.

His presence wraps around me like a shroud, protective yet delicate, and I want to etch this moment into the very fabric of my being. To shore it up for the future when I know I will once more be facing monsters.

As I search his eyes, I see an unyielding determination reflected back at me. It’s both beautiful and terrifying, an unspoken promise that chills and warms the air between us. The way he looks at me, it dissolves the walls I’ve built, layer by layer.

And beneath the weight of everything, I feel exposed— like a trembling leaf caught in the violent grasp of a storm, yet somehow, I know I won’t be swept away.

I drop my gaze, unable to hold his anymore, and I stare at a tattoo that I swear was not there the last time I was in this room. My fingers brush against the soft skin of his neck and I can feel that it is new. That it hasn’t fully healed yet. It’s a bird. Some sort of songbird, with specks of gold and red amongst the black.It sits just below his ear, big enough to be visible no matter what clothing he wears.

“I got it for you.” He says quietly. “I needed something to immortalise you with.”

My eyes widen. I stare back at the ink, tracing it again with my fingertips.

He marked himself with my nickname? If that isn’t a declaration I don’t know what is.

My eyes drop as I take in that awful scar over his chest and slowly, hesitantly I move my hand to trace that mangled skin.

“And this?” I whisper, aware of his previous reaction to my questioning.

He tenses, opening his mouth to no doubt dismiss me again, but I won’t let him get away with it that easily this time. If he’s pulled all my walls down, he can damn well dismantle a few of his own too.

“Tell me, Rafe, tell me what happened. You know all my worst secrets. I deserve to know yours.”

I can see him grapple with himself. Whatever the hell caused that mark on his skin, he still clearly is dealing with the trauma of it.

“It was Alexander.” He says, his voice full of a hate I know I’ve felt in my darkest moments.

“What?” I frown, confused.

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