Page 17 of Rescued By the Beast
I push my shoulder against his, trying to deflect what his smile suggests, but the tension between us only increases.
"Very funny."
"I'm not joking. My bed is comfortable and spacious. And besides, my house is safe."
The way he says it makes me pause.
A sharp hesitation settles in my chest, something I can't ignore.
I may not have enough to eat or a decent bed to sleep in, but if I go to your house, if I give in...
No. I've already accepted your money, I'm vulnerable.
I don't want to feel like I did with that bloody rabbit.
"I can take care of myself, Luther, but thank you."
He stops abruptly and runs his hand through his silver hair with a frustrated sigh.
"I'm just trying to protect you, you know I care about you."
My words come out more shaky than I would like.
"I understand, but after what you told me yesterday..." I shake my head. "It's not a good idea."
"Sandra..."
But I can't deal with this anymore. I start desperately searching for the key to open the gate, and then I feel his touch.
He touches my hand lightly, but before he can say anything, a blur on the street catches my attention.
Luther notices it at the same time I do, and we both turn to look.
The witch emerges from the shadows as if floating, her presence so dense that the night seems to bow down to her. Her eyes glow like embers, and the smile she displays cuts through the air.
"Where is he, you slut?" Her voice is low, but every syllable that comes out of her mouth burns like acid on my skin.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"My husband!" She hisses, and the smile fades, her gaze becoming a sharp blade. She raises a slender finger towards me, pointing angrily. "Where is he?"
"He's not with me!" I cut her off. "I wouldn't touch him if you paid me in gold."
"That's not how it looked when I found you in my bed with him!" The witch raises her hands towards me, her thin, trembling fingers stretching like twisted branches, writhing menacingly in the air. "You'll pay for daring to mess with what's mine."
The air turns icy around me, and the pressure in the atmosphere makes my chest tighten.
"I didn't know he was married..." I murmur, staggering, anxiety and guilt consuming me.
Luther steps in front of me with frightening speed, blocking my view of the witch. His arm extends behind him, his hand gripping my waist with a firmness that tries to anchor me.
But the dizziness hits me like a violent wave, striking me with full force. A whirlwind of lightheadedness invades my mind, and my vision blurs, the contours around me becoming diffuse. The air, once heavy, now seems to thicken, chilled as if the temperature had dropped dramatically. A shiver runs down my spine as a sharp headache explodes in my forehead.
"Go back to your house," Luther says, his voice firm and authoritative. "Your traitor husband is not here."
My knees buckle, and instinctively I grab Luther's shirt, trying to steady myself. My head lops to the side, and as it does, I catch a glimpse of the witch. Her eyes, once blazing with rage, now shine with despair, and the flames turn to tears that slide down her face.
"I can't find him anywhere," she says in a broken voice. "And I can't track him, it's as if..."
