Chapter 16

Astrid

T his time, I know exactly where I'm going. Slipping into the dark kitchen through the servant's hall, I grab a set of keys from the rack and shove them into the back door lock, trying one after the other after the other. My fingers shake with every failed trial as the blood rushes through my ears in roaring tidal waves. It slips in, and I turn the knob, throwing it open. With a silent scream of victory, I rush into the cold, dark night.

A gentle patter of rain hits the fallen autumn leaves as I dart through the grounds. Pausing in my hurry, I check my surroundings, not exactly sure which direction I need to go. But when I hear a commotion from the house behind me, I flee straight ahead.

After seeing him in his bath, I'd found a pair of the master's slippers. They're so big, they almost cause me to trip. So I ditch them in the middle of a field, hopping out of them while continuing to sprint. A line of trees sways about a football field away, and I dash toward it, wanting the cover from the moonlight.

If I could hide from his penetrating eyes, I would. I don't want to be a body part for him to use anymore. The thought that I'm nothing without my womb fills me with emptiness. Why should I let such a monster make me feel this way? He's a liar. What if he's lying about my brother?

The breath fails me as I try to gather as much as I can, but the air is frigid and hard to contain in my lungs. My shift dress soaks through, the thin fabric clinging to me like a second skin. My thighs ache as I push through the wet mud, trying to grip it with my toes to keep my feet from slipping on the wet grass.

I run because of what I saw. Because of what I've done. If I stay any longer with the monster, that's all I'll become. A demon, just like him. Especially if he impregnates me. All he wants is a birthing cow while he makes love to everyone else.

Everyone except me.

I don't even want his love. Not if it means being one of those women in there. The thought sickens me even as hot tears stream down my face, mixing with the chilly drops from the atmosphere.

What if no one ever wants me or loves me? My parents did and now they're gone. Wyatt does, and I can't find him.

Sobs burn my chest as I worry about the truth.

What if he's actually dead?

"Astrid! Stop at once!"

My husband's voice cuts through the soothing sounds of the evening's air and my heart beats harder. If he thinks I'm stopping, he's crazier than I thought. Darting behind the first pine I come to, I peek around it to see how far away he is. His half-naked figure shines bright in the moonlight as he sprints directly for me. The ripples of his abs and chest sparkle with rain.

Oh, shit. He's close.

"Angel, do not move." It comes out in a panicked cry. Like he's actually out of control…something I haven't seen from him. That must mean I'm winning.

Spinning, I dart through more trees and see some city lights peeking through the thick leaves. Just as that speck of hope enters my vision, a loud explosion erupts twenty feet in front of me, throwing me back off my feet. Smoke as thick as the fog covers the ground as fire tries to fight the wet earth. Fuck! The bombs. I had forgotten about those!

Arms snag me and swing my body into a wide oak tree, crushing the wind from my chest. The figure steps on my toes as I scream in pain. Slumping to the ground, I scratch at the mud to slip away, but I'm kicked in the stomach. Splayed out, I rest for a moment, then roll over to try to sit, but the person shoves me back down with a thick boot.

A large man decked all in black, donning a hooded mask, looms over me and brandishes a knife that shines in the rain. When he bends to grab my neck with a gloved hand, a flash of lightning hits him from behind as the master jumps on his back. His arms are torn away from me, and the two men grapple in a coordinated attack. For a moment, I think it's a show for my benefit and wonder if I should slip away before either notice, but my foot hurts so much, I don't think I can.

The consort is not as large as the man in black, but he's spryer. Whereas the one using strikes is calculated, my husband fights dirty.

This is a death match.

In their struggles, the master grabs a gun from the other man's waist.

Focused straight ahead, I scream in shock as another pair of hands grips my neck from behind, pulling me to a stand. My husband's wild gray eyes shine like the devil's as he snaps his gaze to the man holding me. Not hesitating for even a second, he lifts the gun, aims at my head, and shoots just over my right shoulder as I shriek, thinking the bullet was for me.

I slump to the ground along with the corpse, landing on its chest. Master uses the opportunity to latch onto the first man's back but loses his weapon in the dark mud. Scrambling, I try to find it while crawling through the muck. Maintaining a firm grip, the master holds his opponent by the forehead and neck, cranking it upward in an unnatural motion. With a great warrior cry, he wrenches the head so much, it pops until the figure slumps to the ground. Master lays on his back, then sits up, not letting go of the man's head, except to pull off the hood.

Searching the pocket of his prey, he pulls out a knife and flicks it open, then stabs it into the neck of the dead man. Using a prying motion, I watch in horror as he severs it from the body, holding the hair as he does. Blood and tissue coat his hands but wash away with the rain.

Once finished, he stands, lifting the head up to his own face and staring into its eyes as if it's his prize for a job well done. Then he curls his arm and tosses it down a ravine with an underhand throw and it rolls down the hill toward the city.

If those men were with my brother's organization…they were evil. They wanted to hurt me. And if the men the master said are coming for me would do horrible things to me, then what if my safest option is with him? The one looming toward me now like a bull with his nostrils flaring, ready to charge.

Utter devastation overwhelms me. Is this all I get? Is this life?

Falling onto my back in the cold mire, I give up.

I'm done. I'll just stay here until I die.

Drops of water pillage my eyes until I squeeze them closed.

Everything hurts, inside and out. The torture of losing my last loved one on earth hits harder than I thought possible. I've always been lonely, waiting up in my room for my brother's return, but now…

I'm completely alone in this world.

Warmth shields me as the master crawls over my body and stares into my face with intensity. He doesn't say anything, only looks at me as if he knows I'm broken. Because I am. Shattered and left here to die.

"Is-is my brother really dead?" I beg him to tell me the truth.

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, then he says in a low voice, "Yes, angel."

And I lose it. The pain becomes unbearable when I feel my heart constrict with agony. Sobs wreck my chest as everything I had hoped for is crushed before me. I don't think I've ever cried so hard, and I wail into the night like a banshee of despair.

Somewhere in my huffing and shaking, my body lifts off the ground and into the master's arms. I grip his strong neck on one side and push my face into the other as I weep all of my sorrows into his skin. By the time we make it back to the lawn, the sways of his steps lull me into a soothed trance. My anguished cries soften into sniffles.

Everything is dark inside my mind, and I can't see any way out of it.

Dull numbness coats my emotions.

Sev meets us at the back door. "Sir, do you need help?" He runs down the steps toward us and opens his arms for me, but the master turns slightly away from him.

"No! I've got her. Reform the line that was destroyed and tell Dilan to prepare a hot bath in my tub. Quickly."

I barely heed the words, feeling as if my head is filled with cotton. When we reach his room, the master sits me on his bed and slips my dress up my hips.

I'm not in my body anymore. It's like watching everything happen to someone else. Maybe he's going to use my hole again. It doesn't even matter anymore. I'm just a womb now anyway.

"Lift your arms," he commands, and I obey. After he pulls off my wet clothes, he shirks his own pants and picks me up. My knees lay over his strong forearm.

"The bath is almost ready, sir. What happened?" Dilan rushes out from the bathroom where he carries me. As carefully as he can, he places me in the tub, but his muscles shake with exhaustion as he does so. The clawfoot porcelain bath is large, and the water helps to bring me some comfort.

"I'll explain in the morning. She's hurt, so I need to tend to her."

Dilan stands in the doorway with a curious look on her face. "Is that all, then, sir?" Her eyebrow arches high as she asks her question, but master ignores her, and she shuts the door softly when she leaves.

I realize I'm not just trembling from my whimpers, but from the cold as well. As the steam seeps into my pores, I can think more clearly. The master gets in behind me as I bring my knees up to my chest.

"Lie back on me."

I do as he says, willing him to finish with me quickly. But he doesn't touch me. Not in that way. But in all the ways I wanted him to the day he hung me on the cross.

His large palms caress my back and shoulders as he massages soap into my skin.

"Keep your foot under the water. I'll wrap it once we're finished. Astrid?"

I nod in acknowledgement of his words, but can't even open my mouth to give him the respect he wants.

Part of me fears his wrath will come down on me. But mostly, I just don't care.

He continues to rub me all over with his hands, the motions making me almost fall asleep on his chest. His lips tickle my ear as he whispers, "Why did you run?"

Closing my eyes, I consider not saying anything, but force my voice out until it rings on the tiles that coat the walls surrounding us. "Because I'm just a womb."

The movement of his fingers pauses for a long moment, then resumes with greater vigor. In my scalp, my neck, my breasts, but not sexually. Clinical and careful. Then he places a tiny kiss on the top of my freshly shampooed head. It's odd how delicate it is. Something I wouldn't expect from such a brutal force.

After he cleans himself, he slips out of the tub and grabs two towels. He dries off his magnificent body slowly, then wraps one around his waist and commands me. "Stand."

Weakly, I get up, and he rubs me down with a soft terry cloth, then wraps me in it and lifts me into his arms. I think he'll take me into the room next to his, but he places me on his bed. In a flash, he moves to a dresser to produce one of his own white T-shirts and pulls it over my head. As if I'm a rag doll, I can't even get my arms to cooperate, and he dresses me.

Then, he grabs a long piece of stretchable fabric from another drawer. Kneeling before me, his warm hands caress my calf, then wrap the band around my leg and foot. He pats it and gazes up at me with a question on his brow.

"Better?"

Biting my lip, I nod slightly. The pain is less but, honestly, I can barely feel a thing.

"Get under the blankets."

I push back and slide in robotically. Lying on my stomach, I suspect he'll now shove inside me. Or maybe thrust inside my mouth.

Instead, he lies beside me and stares at the ceiling. My mind is blank, but I watch him. See his chest rise and fall, the intricate tattoos dancing with every breath. Eventually, he turns his head to stare back at me, those piercing gray eyes narrowing as he does.

He swallows and clears his throat. "You're not just a womb, angel. You're much more than that." Giving me his back, he turns off the lamp, then grabs me in a bear hug. I don't resist, just let it happen. With my back to his front, he spoons me tightly.

But he doesn't hurt me…

And as I fall asleep, I hear him whisper, "You sleep with me now."