Page 77 of Chain Me
“I want…merely to satisfy my own curiosity,” Dmitri said. Excitement bubbled from him. He sounded on the verge of laughter. “It’s not every day that such a rare case study lands upon one’s lap. And it isn’t every day that a man who once proclaimed a lack of a soul goes through so much trouble to protect a mortal woman—”
“I would assume that you more thansatisfiedyour curiosity already,” Dublin interjected. “You chose your words carefully, didn’t you? Knowing just which wounds to prod. Did you want to shatter her mind the way you break the rest of your toys?”
Dmitri’s reply took seconds to reach me, deceptively demure. “All right, I admit it. Perhaps I wasexaggerating.”
“Exaggerating?” My voice broke as something snapped inside me. Something raw and violent that made even someone like Dublin Helos an insignificant obstacle in my path. “Why do you care?” I was halfway down the staircase before I knew it, stopped only by a single icy grip on my arm. “Why? You said that…that...”
“That you were carrying a deformed, doomed, worthless creature?” He blinked his multicolored eyes just once. “Well, it’s simple, my dear. I lied.”
Red.That’s all I saw. All I could taste. Anger. Rage. Blood.
Now I knew how Dublin could switch from man to devil so easily.
Madness.
It was the only word capable of describing it. Poised, quiet Gray girls didn’t give into fits of hysteria. We seldom launched ourselves down a staircase toward a creature who could easily break our necks with the strength in his pinky. We never shouted—and certainly not the tumult of words spilling from my throat. I couldn’t even decipher them all, just one plaintive howl that echoed incessantly off the walls.
“What do youmeanyou were lying?”
“Eleanor, stop!” A grip of steel cinched my waist, lifting me from the ground. I resisted senselessly, my legs kicking at nothing. “Stop!”
When I finally felt the floor again, I swayed, unable to keep my balance. All I could do was cling to the nearest source of stability within reach—firm, frozen flesh. He held me, even as the tears spilling down my cheeks painted the flesh of his chest.
“What does he mean he was lying?” I couldn’t stop demanding it. Screaming it.
“I won’t let him hurt you,” Dublin insisted, his entire posture possessive.
But it was far too late for that.Hurtwas the only way to describe it—being yanked from one extreme to the other within the span of only a few days. From despair, to numbness, to…hope?
Hopewas the most bitter of the three to swallow. The most painful. I choked on it as Dmitri’s chilling laugh resonated off the walls.
“Look at me.” Dublin captured my chin, commanding my attention. “Five minutes. Give me five minutes.”
He cut his gaze to my bedroom door and I knew instinctively what he meant. Five minutes to reestablish control. Five minutes of secrecy with the man who seemed to relish in mind games designed to drive me insane.
Five minutes oftrust.
When I finally stopped shaking enough to stand on my own, he let me go. Watchful, his gaze tracked my every tortured movement as I entered my bedroom and closed the door behind me.
Five minutes.
I could have lingered, straining for every snippet of their conversation like an eavesdropping child. God knew I wasn’t above the action. But…
I turned away, observing the room clearly for the first time since returning from the Opera.
Crumpled bedsheets covered the mattress I’d barely left in three days—but telltale signs revealed how someone had done their best to take care of me. There was an empty glass on the nightstand, once containing the water they’d urged me to drink in my stupor. Another pillow rested beside mine, utilized by someone who didn’t even need to sleep. He had shared the cold bed with me anyway.
My throat tightened with too many emotions to decipher at once. After everything, the least I owed him was five damn minutes. But then what?
“I lied.”
“I lied.”
I couldn’t focus on what that confession might mean. I decided to shower instead. Hours of despair clung to my skin, more unbearable than any stench.
I found an adjacent bathroom and drew a bath as hot as I could stand it. A groan tore from my lips as I sank beneath the rushing liquid. It felt good. Itfelt. Ignoring my five-minute deadline, I took my time, washing my body with some lavender-scented soap and a washcloth I’d found in a cupboard.
Without observing my reflection, I ran my fingers through my wet hair once finished and then redonned the robe.
