Page 75 of House of Darkness
“I saw everything in Codran’s mind, Estrella. You protected those girls every chance you could.” There was a pause as I gaped at him, horrified. “So, I disagree. You are a warrior—braver than most.”
He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles, sending shivers down my spine. I stared at the wall where the mirror had been. One small shard still hung from the nail, clinging to the faint hope that it might be rebuilt.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.
I took a deep breath and released it through my teeth. Tearing my eyes from that meager shard, I looked at Roman. The words erupted from my mouth before I could stop them. “When do I get to be a person? I’ve been a piece of property my entire life! When does it stop? What happens when you get bored of me, huh? You can throw me away like trash, and no one would do a fucking thing!”
Roman’s eyes glimmered with some hidden joke. “I would never get bored of you.”
I glared at him. That wasn’t the point, and he knew it. “What?”
“I’ve never heard you curse before. I like it.” I looked at him incredulously. I hadn’t even noticed.
He took my hand and pressed it to his chest. “You are your own person. I believe that with every fiber of my being. You deserve to set this world ablaze for what it’s done to you, and I promise to help you do it.”
A strange feeling intertwined with my anger, making my heartbeat rise. Roman always had my back. We could do it—rebuild something better, so no girl would ever have to live in fear again. We could make my pain mean something.
I leaned up and pressed my lips to his urgently. I needed him—the man who always had my back, who had always let me choose. I wanted to choose this. For a few blissful moments, he kissed back, but it ended as quickly as it started. He pulled back, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Estrella, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
I went rigid. “Why?”
“Emotions are high, and I don’t want you to regret this.”
“I’m not going to regret it. This is what I want. Please, just let me have this.” I sounded pathetic, but I didn’t care.
Roman still held back, his posture tense. Rejection built inside me, tearing at my insides. Codran was right. Roman had always been possessive, but now that I was damaged, he wouldn’t want me. I stared up at the man who couldn’t stop touching me before, now stepping back as if I were diseased—his doll, broken by another man.
“He was right. He knew you wouldn’t want me anymore.”
An icy silence hung between us as he stared down at me, aghast. Then his face twisted with anger. His hand shot out and twisted into the fabric of my gown, yanking me to him.
“You want to run that by me again?”
I gritted my teeth, refusing to break eye contact. “You don’t want me anymore. That’s what this is, right? You look at me and see something broken.”
“Is that what you think?” Roman asked incredulously. “You think I don’t want you anymore?”
I nodded, and his jaw set. Without another word, he practically dragged me along, only releasing me once we reached the bed. He sat down on the edge, facing me. When he spoke, his voice was cold and deadly. “Face the mirror.”
Confused, I spun around to confront the full-length mirror across from my bed. I barely had time to take in my ghastly face before he pulled me into his lap, his touches rough but controlled. “I thought you said this was a bad idea,” I gasped.
“I thought you said you wanted this. Which is it, Estrella? Because if you want me to stop, I will—no questions asked. But I will tell you this, either way, I’m not walking away this time.”
I let out a shaky breath. I could see his intense, burning gaze fixed in the mirror, pinned on our reflection. “I want this,” I whispered like I was confessing my sins.
“Good, because I’m going to set the record straight.”
Without warning, his nail slid down my gown’s front, cutting through it like wet paper. He pushed the sleeves down my battered arms and threw the fabric gracelessly against the wall.
“I hate that gown. It’s too dark, and you’re supposed to be light itself,” he muttered against my cheek.
“Look in the mirror.”
I did as instructed, staring at our reflection. I immediately cringed. In my vanity mirror, I could only see my face and neck, but now I could see all of it. My skin was more green than pink, and bite marks covered me. At each hip were nasty gashes where Codran’s nailshad dug in. I recoiled, but Roman’s hand immediately found my jaw, forcing me to stare.
“You see brokenness, but you’re wrong. These bruises are the tattoos of a warrior who has survived nightmares and was still willing to sacrifice herself for others—braver than most and absolutely beautiful.” As he spoke, his hand trailed over my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
