Unraveled: Chapter 9
Unraveled (Dark Sovereign Book 3)
I can still feel him everywhere as I rush to my room. When he had me locked up, all I wanted to do was get out. Now, all I want to do is go back in, stay there and hide. How ironic. Maybe thatâs his plan. Get me to lock myself up, so heâs not the bad guy.
God, heâs so infuriating, and everything he does is calculated and planned, manipulating everyone around him to move in a sequence he determines without anyone even realizing it.
Dictator. Asshole.
Or maybe Iâm just full of shit and paranoid as fuck because my husband bred me like Iâm some goddamn animal, got me pregnant and locked me in my room. Itâs so insane. Iâm still having trouble wrapping my head around it. Only the occasional nausea and tender breasts manage to nail down the reality of it.
Now, the ache between my legs reminds me just how fucked up everything is. My husband deceived and lied to me, yet I canât resist being branded by his touch, my twisted desire outwitting my broken heart. The lines have become so blurred that I no longer know where the lines are. I donât even know if there have ever been any lines when it comes to Alexius and me. I donât think so. Maybe thatâs why all this happened. We were doomed from the start because people canât just pretend that there are no limits, no lines that need to be drawn. You canât just unravel and expect there to be no consequences.
This is our consequence. Itâs both obsession and misery.
I wipe my tears with my sleeve while trying to keep the torn fabric of my shirt in place above my shoulder. Alexius didnât think twice before tearing at my clothes, and I didnât think twice about not stopping him.
I should have stopped him.
Should have. Could have. Didnât.
Iâm such a fool. One touch, and he broke through my armor. One kiss, and I was done for. All the anger and pain in the world can course through my veins, and it would still not be strong enough to fight the pull between us. He was right when he said what we share can burn cities. But Iâm afraid itâll destroy us first. Alexius is a powerful, enigmatic, confident man, which makes him a dangerous one, tooâespecially to me, a woman with his name engraved into her broken heart. A woman who, after all heâs done, still feels connected to him in a way that seems almost supernatural. Surreal. I donât just love him. I breathe him as if I exist solely for him.
Itâs killing me.
I storm into my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me. I know Maximo is out there in the hall. Heâs been following me, guarding me, and heâs not being discreet about it, either. He doesnât care what I think or what others think. All he cares about is doing what Alexius tells him to do, just like everyone else around here.
Iâm a sobbing mess when I reach the shower and turn on the faucet. I donât wait for the water to warm up before slipping underneath it, soaking my clothes. The cold water is like a thousand needles piercing my skin, but I need it, hoping it will drown out everything Iâm feeling.
Heartache.
Regret.
Shame.
I should have fought harder. I should have resisted and not given in to the longing thatâs been tearing me open from the inside out. I should have been stronger, proving that he canât control me like he does everyone else around here. He doesnât have the right to. The last thing I want is to give him more power than he already has. But I gave him the confidence he needs to continue his display of control over me by giving in to my need for him. It doesnât matter what heâs done. Heâs still the man my body yearns for, even if he is the husband who broke my heart.
Water soaks me, running from my scalp to the ends of my hair, and I imagine him sitting in his dadâs leather chair with a smug grin on his face, smoking a cigar and drinking his expensive whiskey, gloating over his captive wife who couldnât resist him and his cock. Itâs a sickening thought. He admitted not regretting what heâs done, bluntly saying heâd do it again. Thereâs no remorse when I stare into his iridescent eyes, no apology in the way he looks at me. And letting him fuck me just proved to him that he could do to me whatever the hell he wants, and Iâll still spread my legs for him. No matter how broken I am, Iâd still be his filthy little slut.
Self-loathing slithers through the cracks, a dark cloud forcing all the oxygen from my lungs, a storm making it hard to breathe. Iâm supposed to be stronger than this. Iâm going to be a mother in a few months. How will I teach my children to be responsible and make good choices when I canât do it myself? The thought terrifies me. It spreads ice through my bones, squeezing my stomach, tearing at my insides with the teeth of barbed wire. It leaves me gasping for air, the bitter taste of fear on my tongue.
The water starts to warm, my wet clothes clinging to my body like the humiliation sticks to my soul. The ache between my legs reminds me of how weak and stupid I am. I made a fool of myself, and no matter how scalding the water is, it doesnât rinse off the shame.
Iâm that girl again. The one who walked into this house for the first time, insecure, lost, and alone. The woman who felt scared and intimidated by a man who would become her husband. A stranger. A man who would ultimately take her heart and make it his and own her in every way.
All Iâve ever wanted was to know peaceâto wake up every morning as blissfully happy as I was when I fell asleep. I might be the stray he picked up off the streets who somehow managed to survive a dark childhood. But Iâm still just a girl who dreams of love and a happy ending. And I was so sure I had found that with Alexius, but I was wrong. So wrong.
I fall to my knees, water cascading down my face as I sob into my palms. Steam builds up around me, and Iâm left to drown in my pain. I just want it to stop. I want to stop hurting. I want to stop feeling like Iâm mourning. Like I got someone taken away from me. Someone who holds my soul in the palms of his hands.
Someone who says he loves me, yet his actions speak otherwise.
Someone who says he canât bear to lose me, yet everything he does pushes me away.
Someone who can mend and break my heart at the same time.
Someone I love so much, itâs happiness and agony all at once.
Alexius.
I clutch my stomach, my cries hacking out of my chest. Every bone is being broken repeatedly, and I canât stop it. Iâm being cracked wide open, bleeding fucking tears, and it only worsens with each passing second.
âPlease make it stop!â I scream, crippled with agony, water pelting down. I canât breathe. Thereâs too much pain weighing on my chest. âPlease stop!â
âLeandra!â
âMake it stop!â
Arms wrap around me, and I choke on a breath when Iâm clutched tightly. âWhat the hell is going on?â
I open my eyes and look up into soft, familiar brown eyes. âIsaia,â I cry.
âJesus Christ, Leandra.â He wipes wet hair from my face, rocking me back and forth. âWhat did he do, huh? What the fuck did my brother do?â
New sobs erupt as if my wounds are torn open and clawed at. âHelp me,â I plead, folding myself into him. âMake it stop, please.â
âI got you.â He cups my cheek, tightening his hold around me. âItâs okay, baby girl. I got you.â
âI donât want to hurt anymore.â
âJust breathe.â He rests his chin on my head. âDeep breaths.â
âI love him so much, Isaia.â
âI know you do.â
âAnd I donât know how to make it stop.â
âMotherfucker doesnât deserve you,â he mutters, his gaze following the trail his finger leaves on my cheek. âYouâre too good for my brother.â
I bury my face in his chest, his shirt soaked, both of us flat on our asses in the running shower. Itâs comforting having his arms around me, but somehow it only makes me cry more. Itâs as if his being here, holding me, consoling me, is permitting me to be sadâgiving me approval so I can acknowledge that Iâm broken and allowed to weep.
I have no idea how long we sit there or when I stopped crying, but my entire life feels surreal as Isaia picks me up, helping me out of the shower. Everything is hazy. Itâs as if my mind decided to shut down, silencing my thoughts. Paralyzing me.
âHere. You need to dry yourself off before you freeze.â Isaia holds out a towel, but I donât have the strength to take it. Iâm exhausted, like I just lived a thousand lifetimes in an hour.
âOkay,â he sighs. âLet me help you.â He reaches for the hem of my shirt, his eyes searching mine for permission. I nod because I have no choice but to accept his help. Iâm useless on my own, a complete fucking mess, and Iâd probably stand here freezing to death without knowing itâs happening.
Isaia moves closer, easing my wet shirt up my waist, and I lift my arms so he can ease it off and over my head. He throws my shirt in the hamper, and I donât care that Iâm standing half naked in front of him. Iâm too numb to care.
Keeping his steady eyes fixed on me, he takes the towel and starts drying my hair, squeezing water from the ends, gently fluffing moisture from the strands, rivulets of water running down my back. His white shirt clings to his chest, every roped muscle showing through the wet fabric, puddles of water gathering around his feet.
âIâm sorry,â I whisper, and he stills.
âDonât.â
âI really am.â
âI donât know what my brotherâs done, but I already know you have nothing to be sorry about.â
âI should be stronger than this, but Iâm not.â
âLeandra,â he tips my chin up so I look him in the eye, âkeep quiet and let me take care of you.â
I purse my lips tightly, suppressing a fresh waterfall of tears. He knows how much I need thisâhow much I need to let go of the strength Iâve been grasping on to so I can keep myself from falling. I want to let go. And right nowâ¦heâs here to catch me.
He moves to stand behind me, and I close my eyes as he eases the towel down my back. I shiver as the cold starts to slither across my skin, and Isaia places the soft towel over my shoulders. I take it between my fingers, pulling it tighter around me.
âYou trust me, right?â
I glance halfway over my shoulder, nodding as I suck my bottom lip into my mouth.
He crouches and reaches beneath the towel, his touch calm and light, fingers brushing against my waist. Slowly, he slips my pants down and steadies me as I step out of them, water dripping from the fabric. Nothing about this makes me feel uncomfortable. All I feel is comfort. Thereâs a sense of solace with him here, and for a moment I donât want him to ever leave. Somehow, the pain seemsâ¦less now that heâs here.
I hang my head down as he straightens behind me, and I clasp the towel tighter in front of my chest. Iâm sure I have my tears and emotions under controlâ¦until he wraps his arms around my waist, hugging me against him so tight, his kindness overwhelms me.
The walls break, and I sink into him, letting go of all the strength Iâve tried to hold on to, and I fall. Iâm breaking while Isaia holds on to all the pieces. Itâs liberating and freeing to let go, knowing someone is keeping me from hitting the ground. Iâm not alone, and the relief is almost too much.
âYouâre always there,â I say through tears, remembering how he walked me down the aisle. âYouâre always there when Iâm alone.â
âI care for you, and I always will.â His arms tighten around me, and he rests his forehead against the top of mine. âIâll always be there for you, Leandra. No matter what.â
âThank you,â I whisper, appreciating what he means to me more than words could express.
Abruptly, he sweeps me into his arms and carries me into the bedroom, placing me on the bed. I roll over on my side, clutching a pillow, and I swear I can smell Alexius on the silkâa fusion of wild spice cologne and sex. Heâs everywhereâon my sheets, my skin, my heartâ¦inside me. Alexius is inside me. His babies are growing inside me. Twins.
Does Isaia know? He hasnât been around at all lately. I donât know what Alexius has told him.
The bed dips beside me, and Isaia gathers me in his arms, pulling me up so he can cradle me against his chest as he leans against the headboard. His being here soothes the storm raging inside me for too long, leaving me exhausted, so I close my eyes as calm sweeps over me.
âSleep, baby girl,â he whispers, placing a chaste kiss on my head. âIâm not going anywhere.â
For the first time in so longâ¦I sleep.