Page 42 of A Summoned Husband

A shudder moved through me.

“There you are,” they growled.

My mouth gaped but no sound came out. I wanted to scream. I wanted to kick out and protect myself but all I could do was shrink back in the closet and clutch the bottle closer to my chest. The scent of pinot grigio filled my nose, making me dizzy as I held my breath and looked at my end.

Something buzzed beneath my flesh. The key in my chest burned.

The hand that whipped out and wrapped around my ankle seared me. It was a brand pressed into my flesh, marking me with agony. I screamed and the sound transformed into a weird yelp as I yanked, my back slamming hard against the floor. I twisted my body, the wine bottle clamouring to the ground as I tried to grab onto anything to keep whatever this was from taking me.

There was nothing that could keep me in the closet. I pulled at rain boots, winter boots, an umbrella, but they all just toppled over me, fuelling my desperation.

Panic triggered my fight or flight and I started kicking. I reached for the abandoned bottle, swinging it. All the air trapped into my chest as I gagged, wine pouring down onto my face. I felt like I was drowning, each gasp filling my mouth with the taste of wine and making inside my nose burn and ache. All my hits did nothing. It was a being made of smoke and though its grip on my ankle was bruising, it was fighting a ghost.

The boogeyman.

It flipped me onto my back as it pulled me toward it.

A sob inflated my chest as the key continued to burn.

‘Call for me.’

Asmodeus’s voice filled my mind.

“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you… much.” The shadowed monster chattered. Its teeth clicked as they shone through the pitch.

‘Call for me.’

“Asmodeus!” I cried as it wrapped another hand around my thigh and the pain made me see stars.

If I was going to be taken out by a monster, it would be by the one I knew. The one I could hold onto and stab with a fork and break chairs off of. Against my demon husband, I could trick myself into believing I stood a chance, but there was no fighting this thing.

“Asmodeus!” I cried again as the pain peaked and my vision waned.

The pain left me all too quickly. Crashing echoed in my mind as the relief of my leg no longer set on fire filled me and I slumped to the floor. The world around me swayed and I swallowed bile as I turned over onto my stomach and crawled back into the closet. The closet was a bad choice, I knew that, but I needed a door between me and the rest of the world if only for a second.

I closed the door behind me as the sound of destruction continued to boom outside it. The smell of wine filled the closet as I curled on the floor and tried to stop my mind from spiralling into darkness and steady the world. It swayed. It dipped until my stomach lurched and my eyes rolled back.

This pain was complete. It rattled my teeth and wrapped around my mind. It burned past my flesh, setting all my nerves on fire in an indescribable way. It was so intense I couldn’t breathe, each hitched breath inflated my chest but didn’t fill me. Damp streams poured out of the corners of my eyes as I lay in the dark.

My ears rang so loudly the rest of the noise fell away, leaving nothing but a painful buzzing.

Weightlessness became me as my eyes fell closed and desperation clogged my throat. I felt used. An abused thing torn apart and left tattered. The world fell away underneath me as I squeezed my eyes closed and begged whoever was listening for a reprieve.

Heat pressed into the side of my face so unlike the burn that touched my leg. It didn’t sizzle, didn’t sear. It was comfort. A blanket I wanted to curl into. I whimpered as pressure touched my leg before coolness made my eyes whip open.

I looked around my living room. The table was broken and one of the steel legs bent. Decorative vases were strewn about the floor, glass marbles everywhere. One of the shelves against the wall had collapsed, and the books were haphazardly piled everywhere. I took in the chaos before my eyes dropped to the hand clasped around my leg.

Long thick brown fingers wrapped around my ankle. They were lit a red that looked like it should burn, but ice moved over flesh that I was sure would be blistered if he lifted his hand from where he held.

“Eden.”

My eyes whipped up. He was so close my gaze danced between his, dark and endless. His free hand brushed against my cheek before his thumb wiped at them, collecting the dampness I still felt.

“Shh. I can fix this.”

“What?” Confusion rocked me as my brows pinched together and I forced my gaze away to look at where he held my ankle. They traced my leg up to where it throbbed and my eyes widened, glued to the burnt flesh of my thigh. It looked charred, the flesh blackened around the wound that was the perfect hand print.

My hand whipped out, but his hand circled my wrist, keeping me from touching the tender flesh. As soon as I saw the wound, the immense pain returned. As though seeing it reminded me it was there.