Page 35

35

DORIN

I couldn’t do it.

I just couldn’t.

When I had her in the tub and pressed that final kiss to her cheek, I lingered, unable to let go.

A small twitch revealed that she was regaining consciousness.

I tightened my grip on her, trying to will myself to apply that final burst of force that would snap her neck and grant her the peace she needed.

I thought I was about to do it, but then I was leaning out of the tub instead, ripping the syringe from my jeans pocket, and shoving it into her neck.

Everything from that moment on remains a blur.

I can’t remember a single thought going through my mind as I lifted her out of the tub, cradling her close to my chest, and carrying her upstairs.

I vaguely remember the sensation of staring eyes as I walked naked through the dungeon halls with sleeping beauty nestled in my arms.

But I didn’t see who was watching.

I didn’t see anything.

Only her.

The one person I couldn’t bear to lose.

As I lean back on the living room couch and watch the woman in my bed—tucked beneath my sheets, the warm sun caressing her golden locks—a flood of relief swooshes through me.

I can’t believe how close I came to losing, no, getting rid of her.

Twice.

I hate myself for it, with a vehemence that has me grabbing my switchblade and hovering the sharp edge above my skin.

Something I’ve never told anyone is that my father isn’t the only one to take credit for the many scars on my skin.

I made some of them myself over the years when the rage and the chaos in my mind were at their worst.

The pain of the knife slicing through my skin was the only release I could find.

Often, I wanted to do what Lavinia attempted on that first night, but I never did find the strength to turn my wrist and slice right at those arteries.

Maybe that’s part of the reason I’ve been so drawn to her from the start.

She possesses the strength I don’t have in myself.

Being close to her gives me a taste of it, almost like it becomes my own.

Or maybe it’s her singing, which is the first non-violent thing to ever quieten the chaos in my mind.

Or maybe her angelic appearance that makes me feel close to heaven—something that’s always been out of my reach.

My father always told me I’d go to hell and would never see the sweet light of heaven.

Seeing Lavinia’s beautiful light feels like defying him.

But no matter how much I hate myself and want to cut away the pain, I refrain.

Because that sweet angel lying in my bed, still as broken and hollow as when I came back and found her broken and voiceless, needs me.

I need to be strong.

For her.

It’s been two weeks since I brought her up here.

She’s doing better than when I took her from her cell and thought I was going to kill her.

But better is far from good.

Waking up in my room, seeing the sun, and the open space around her seemed to nudge her out of her empty shell.

But she withdrew straight back into it.

The change of scenery has done some good, though, beyond that first moment of clarity.

I’ve been able to feed her and make her drink, and she even meets my eyes in short moments.

But that’s as far as the improvement goes.

All day long, she just lies there, staring out the window.

She doesn’t even nod or shake her head when I ask a question.

Rex gives a slow whine from the bedroom door where he’s standing, watching her.

“Sorry, buddy. You can’t go in there.”

I’m not about to risk scaring her with a huge, curious dog sniffing at her and jumping onto the bed.

Rex hates that he can’t go to her, but being the good boy he is, he remains just outside the door.

At first, I thought he hovered there because he was weary of the new presence in our quarters, but when I noticed the way he kept whining, I realized he was guarding her.

Somehow, even from a distance, he senses that she needs protection.

And he’s providing that fiercely.

He even seems reluctant to leave for our morning runs, and the moment we get back, he rushes to the bedroom door to check on her.

I feel bad for refusing him to go in there.

I would rip apart any person trying to keep me from her.

But that’s the way it has to be.

A knock at the door has Rex going into high alert, ears pointing into the air as he turns.

He remains by the bedroom, though, standing guard, ready to protect my songbird.

“Good boy,” I tell him, making a detour to scratch him behind the ear on the way to the door.

I bristle too, preparing to protect, as I open and see Dax standing there—with his girl a step behind him.

Seeing my reaction, Dax lifts his hands.

“I come in peace. This is not for me. Emma would really like to see Lavinia.”

“Get the hell out of here,” I say in a low snarl, hoping Lavinia won’t hear.

Rex follows my cue, giving a low growl.

Dax sighs.

“Mikhail told me she’s not doing well.”

Fucking Mikhail.

He came in here a few days ago to check on the situation.

He seemed genuine enough, asking if I needed anything and even accepting the whole Zoltan situation.

I don’t know why he was so accommodating, but he seemed almost regretful when he watched Lavinia’s unmoving body and muttered something about Dax under his breath.

His expression was almost wistful when he slapped my shoulder on his way out and said, I’m happy you’ve found someone to take care of.

“I think Emma might be able to help,” Dax adds.

“Fuck you.” I slam the door in his face.

But apparently, I can’t get any peace around here.

An hour later, there’s another knock at the door.

This time, it’s Mikhail, the meddling motherfucker, and Dax’s girl.

“What?” I snap.

“Don’t you have a fucking sale to tend to or something?”

The fucker tries to mosey past me and into my quarters, but I slap a hand to the door frame, blocking his way.

“You might own this fucking castle, but this ” — I gesture to the space behind me—“is my place. As long as I do my part around here, you have no right to come in here.”

Despite everything with Lavinia, I’ve been in the dungeon every day, keeping an eye on Mikhail’s goddamned incompetent trainers—and paying Zoltan a few visits.

He’s the perfect outlet for my pent-up rage these days, although it’s been hard to keep myself in check enough to not just end him with one quick slash of my knife.

“It’s your place, all right,” Mikhail agrees.

“But I suggest you let me in. Unless you want your girl to wither away in there forever.”

Rex parrots me as I make a low growl.

“Who the hell are you to come here and—”

I’m about to give him the full brunt of my rage, but Mikhail cuts me off with a sharp command that stuns me into silence.

“Quiet!”

As much as I hate this nosy bastard, I respect his authority.

He’s the only man I could ever answer to.

I have no idea how many jobs I’ve lost because I fucked up my boss in some way or another because I don’t do well with authority.

“I’m not here to stick my nose in your business. I’m here to help.” He points at the girl behind him, who has retreated three steps down the stairs and is cowering.

“She is too. And before you tell me she’ll just bother Lavinia and make everything worse, turn on that brain of yours. I know it’s in there.”

I sneer, but let him continue anyway.

“Remember how Lavinia wanted to take the punishment for Emma? Well, that means she cares about her. So maybe—if you can find it in your thick skull to accept some help—it would do her some good to see her friend. That’s why I told Dax about Lavinia’s state. Not to meddle.”

I watch the quiet girl, who’s wearing a little black dress that seems to have become her new uniform after Dax decided to make her his.

Her hands are obediently gathered behind her back, but I’m not sure they’re cuffed, and she’s not even wearing the muzzle.

“Cuff her and put the muzzle on her, and I might let her see Lavinia.” I won’t risk anything.

Mikhail scoffs.

The fucker goddamn scoffs.

“Do you really think that’s the best way to let Emma help her?” Biting his lip, he looks off to the side.

“You know, when I first found out about your new little project, I was pissed you wasted your time, not thinking it would last. But as it turned out, you do have a bit of humanity left in you. If you want your girl to get better, you’d damn well better tap into that, or you’ll lose her for good when she becomes an irrevocable shell of herself.”

I think back to that time when I found Dax’s girl by Lavinia’s cell.

How Lavina begged me not to hurt her.

The fierce determination that I mistook for a death wish.

This girl means a whole lot to Lavinia for some reason I can’t comprehend.

I don’t like this—in fact, I hate the idea of someone other than me helping Lavinia.

But she’s stuck.

Seeing her new surroundings and the sun took her a small step out of her paralysis.

Maybe this will do the same.

“Okay,” I relent.

“But I’m staying at her side the whole time.”

Mikhail lifts a brow, and I gnash my teeth.

There’s no way Dax is letting me near his girl.

Actually, I can’t even believe he offered her help.

No less letting her be here without him present—only Mikhail.

I stare at the girl again, noticing the hope lighting up her eyes as she casts a quick glance at me.

I wonder if Dax has gone so soft that he’s let her convince him to help.

“Fine,” I say and take two steps back, giving Mikhail enough space to herd the girl inside without getting within my arm’s reach.

“Stay in the living room,” Mikhail orders as he steers the girl toward the bedroom.

I don’t know why the hell I obey.

Maybe he’s right—I do have a shred of humanity left.

Or maybe I’m just selfish and want Lavinia to do better so I can have her back.

It doesn’t really matter.

I join Rex at the bedroom door as Mikhail brings the girl inside, a small sliver of hope growing in me as she sinks to her knees beside the bed and strokes Lavinia’s cheek.

My chest tightens as I watch Lavinia’s unmoving frame.

My hope is dwindling with each stagnant day, and I feel goddamned helpless.

I hate it.

The chaos in my mind is getting louder by the day.

For now, I manage by taking it out on Zoltan.

So far, I’ve pulled off all his nails, cut off all fingers on one hand, shoved various toys up his ass, and pissed on him daily.

I considered cutting off his tongue, but right now, I enjoy all his pathetic pleas and hearing him call out for his momma—hearing just how helpless he is.

It makes me feel less powerless.

But then I come back up here and find Lavinia in the same place I left her, and that toxic feeling slithers back in.

All I want to do is lie down behind her and hold her, but I don’t dare to touch her.

I’m afraid of making her worse.

It’s probably ridiculous since she sank into me when I held her before I took her up here, but I seem to be as stuck as her.

Dax’s girl makes herself comfortable on the floor beside the bed, stroking Lavinia continuously as she speaks in soft tones.

“I’m Emma, by the way,” she says after talking about how Dax brought her into the forest the other day and seeing the forest lake.

“I’m so happy I get to talk to you now. You have no idea how much it meant to me, hearing your words and your voi—” she stops herself from mentioning Lavinia’s voice, her face falling.

“I’m so incredibly sorry for what happened to you. I can’t even begin to—He shouldn’t—” Once again, she stops herself, her features filling with conflicting emotions.

“I’ve lost a lot in this place too, but despite it all, I’ve somehow found a way to be…” She stares at a tattoo on her lower arm, and a small smile tugs at her lips.

“Happy.” She returns her attention to Lavinia, splaying her hand over her cheek.

“You’ll find a way to do the same.”

I nearly gasp as Lavinia draws up her shoulders.

I can’t see her face, but the way Dax’s girl leans in and focuses her eyes on Lavinia tells me she’s gained eye contact.

I almost don’t believe it.

I’m about to go in there to see for myself, but Mikhail, who’s standing close to the door, holds up a hand to stop me.

Anger flares inside me but drowns in a rush of hope as the girl places a hand in Lavinia’s open palm and Lavinia actually folds her fingers around it.

“You have Dorin. I don’t know him, but”—she casts a tentative glance at me—“I can tell he cares so much about you. He will take care of you. Do you remember when you thought this was a… mental hospital? You said that the methods worked, even though they shouldn’t.”

Lavinia’s head moves with a small nod.

“Maybe it can work again.”

Lavinia doesn’t seem to respond, and the room goes quiet for a while.

Dax’s girl turns her head to look at the window.

“The view is really beautiful here. Have you seen it? I mean, up close—not just from the bed.”

Lavinia responds with a tiny head shake.

“You should. It’s really peaceful. Whenever I feel uncertain and Dax isn’t there, I go to the window to watch the mountains and the treetops.” She moves up on her haunches and places her open hand on the bed for Lavinia to take.

“Can I show you?”

My heart pounds as I wait for Lavinia’s reaction.

This feels like a crucial moment that will define her future—my future.

Will she stay down or get up?

Rex stands at full attention, giving a short mewl as if he senses the importance too.

I rest my hand on his head, to soothe both him and myself.

My heart skips a beat when Lavinia places her hand in Emma’s.

I nearly double over as a hefty weight falls off my chest.

It’s like watching a mirage as Lavinia slowly moves up to sit and the girl at her side drapes a blanket over her shoulders and helps her to her feet.

It takes all my self-control to remain rooted to the spot as Lavinia moves toward the window with slow, staggered steps.

I want to go to her, wrap my arm around her waist, and grab her small hand in mine as I lead the way.

Make sure she doesn’t fall.

Protect her.

Watching someone else do it is almost painful.

Seeing someone else break her out of her numbness is painful.

But then again, I guess I only have myself to blame.

I haven’t tried much, too scared to do more damage.

I’ve even carried her to and from the bathroom instead of insisting on her walking herself.

I’m the one to blame for her almost stumbling on her weak legs as she slowly makes her way to the window.

Rex looks up at me with something that almost feels like a reproach, and I snap out of the self-blame.

It’s no use.

Lavinia can’t do shit with it.

So I watch instead, taking mental notes of what is working and hoping it will too when I’m the one doing it.