Page 89 of Chain Me
“Roses are a bit cliché,” he countered, sounding bored at the prospect. “I’d like to think I have more creativity than that.”
I shrugged, turning my attention to my plate. “You sent me one that first day, remember?” Along with a written choice.Life or death?
“They make for an effective tool to craft a grand entrance, I will admit.” He laughed. “Though I would like to believe I’d profess my love in something a bit more impressive than a rose.”
Something he’d never give to you,that doubtful voice hissed. I shook it off like a bothersome fly.
“Like?” I asked Dublin.
He said nothing.
“You know, Georgie’s many lovers—the ones she risked sneaking in the manor—would leave roses for her as gifts, smuggled into different rooms,” I said. “Sometimes, they’d assume my room was hers—which goes to show that brains weren’t high on her list of attractive attributes. Every time I saw a rose on my floor, I knew… It was never for me.”
What a melancholic admission. After a sigh, I sipped more soup and then shoved the rest of my bread into my mouth.
“Do you miss her?” Dublin wondered.
His voice was too soft. I could stomach his concern when it came packaged within an elaborate joke—but it was another thing entirely when he didn’t bother to disguise it at all.
“Georgie?” I stared down at my hands, blinking rapidly. “I…”
He only cares because he wants her more. And you know it.
“Stop!” I rubbed at my forehead.
Dublin’s hand brushed my wrist. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” I set my empty plate aside as proof. “I’m just…tired, I think.”
“Should I assist you?” He grinned, utilizing his dangerous mixture of charm and smug amusement. With unmatched grace, he stood and approached my chair. “Or are you willing to bruise your delicate feet by walking yourself?”
I choked out something that passed for a laugh. “I wouldn’t want to tire out my weak servant so soon. I’m fine. I think it’s the time zone change.”
He let me mount the stairs alone, but I could sense him watching. Even as I entered my room and closed the door, I knew he was listening down below, waiting for any hint that something was wrong.
So, willing to put him at ease for once, I calmly shed my dress and pulled on a robe. Then I carefully lowered myself onto the bed with a contented sigh for his benefit.
But I didn’t dare to close my eyes. I couldn’t. Shadows painted my room, swallowing up the violet beneath a sea of impenetrable darkness. My breath tainted the air in puffs of white. And the voices persisted, louder without his presence to smother them.
Silly Eleanor.
Stupid Eleanor.
Fucking you is all he desires. Fucking. Fucking.
You don’t matter. You or that thing growing inside you.
Abomination. Abomination.
I tossed and turned, burying my face against my pillow. Air caught between my lungs and my throat, unwilling to move. I was suffocating. Gulping for breath, I inhaled and struggled to regain my bearings.Breathe, Ellie. You’re being ridiculous.
“Eleanor?”
“I…I’m fine,” I blurted even before I found Dublin in the doorway, poised forward as if to lunge. “I promise.”
He didn’t seem convinced. His grip remained on the doorknob as his gaze scanned the room in a cautious sweep.
“I’m just tired…” I let my eyes drift shut and my head fall back against the pillows.
