Waiting

4.

Lilith POV

With a flash, I landed in my study.

“Aaahhh!”

I picked up the first thing within arm’s reach and hurled it across the room. Well—s**t. The object of my manifested frustration just happened to be my favorite snow globe. The small glass sphere struck the wall with thunderous force and shattered into hundreds of pieces. Glitter, water, and glass spattered across the floor and walls. The tiny scenery inside was completely destroyed, and I watched as fragments bounced and skittered across the floor.

Why was I always treated like this?

Why wouldn’t Arie be with me?

I had loved him for longer than I cared to remember. Why couldn’t it have been him? I was never fond of the day his brother saved me. Because of that fateful moment, Lucian became my mate—and not Arie.

Whenever I think of him and the fact that he has never liked me, all I seem to do is wallow in my own sorrow. I could feel the emptiness in my heart, and I despised the fact that this was my life.

A knock at the door suddenly pulled me from my sorrow.

“Come in.”

“My Lady, is everything all right?” one of my maidens asked. No doubt she had heard my scream—and the shattering of the once-intact snow globe.

“Yes,” I replied flatly. “Please, Amy, come in and clean this mess up.”

I paid little attention to her as I made the request.

“Right away, my Lady,” she said.

As she stepped into my study, she closed the door behind her. Before moving toward the wall smeared with glittering liquid and shattered glass, she hesitated, then spoke again, her tone careful.

“My Lady, if I may… tonight marks the first night of the Hunter’s Moon cycle.”

Shit.

I couldn’t linger here and wait for her to finish cleaning. The Hunter’s Moon. The anniversary moon of her death—or, as Lucian liked to call it, her murder.

I needed to be alone.

I needed to hide.

“Thank you, Amy. I’m going to be alone. If the Master comes looking for me, tell him you haven’t seen me for a couple of days now.”

I didn’t wait for her to reply as I quickly walked out of my office.

Carefully and quietly, I made my way down the hall, intent on hiding away in the vastness of the Master’s library. Still, as I neared the corridor that would lead me in the right direction, I heard a voice that made me freeze in place. He was whistling, and I could tell from the sound that he was getting closer. There was nowhere for me to hide.

He would surely see me.

I couldn’t turn back and barricade myself in my study—the library was still too far, and my room lay on the opposite side of the castle. As I took in my surroundings, a brilliant idea came to me—and I moved toward the wall.

I quickly slipped into the folds of the heavy drapery lining this section of the hallway. As I pulled back the first layer and stepped inside, I heard a door open.

“Ah, is my beautiful mate in there?”

Beautiful? I couldn’t help the sharp sting that pierced my heart. Why the hell was he referring to me as beautiful?

I couldn’t see who he was speaking to from my hiding spot, but I assumed he must be addressing my handmaiden.

“No, my lord. She is not. I haven’t seen her for a couple of days now.”

“Is that so?” His tone sharpened. “Tell me—what were you doing in her office?”

Crap. He didn’t believe her.

“I was tending to my regular duties. I’m sorry I have not seen my lady, but I assure you—if I knew her whereabouts, they would be yours.”

Smart girl. She answered quickly, smoothly. Nothing in her response would raise suspicion.

“Well,” he said slowly, almost amused, “I felt her presence when she arrived a little while ago. We may not see eye to eye, but she still wears my mark. I know she’s here somewhere.”

My stomach twisted.

“When you see your madam,” he continued, “let her know I’m looking for her. I have a wonderful new toy I want us to play with. Tell her it’s called a Pear of Anguish.”

“I’m sorry, my lord,” Amy said hesitantly. “A… what?”

Yes. Thank you, Amy—for asking the question my mind was screaming.

“This,” he replied eagerly. “See? It’s shaped like a pear. Only this contraption opens like a blossoming flower—with serrated petals. Exciting, don’t you think?”

Oh, my Creation.

What the hell had he just described?

How was he planning on using this Pear of Anguish—and why did he want to show it to me?

As if on cue, he continued.

“You see, Amy, I plan to heat the metal first, then insert it into her womanhood. I want it to be as effective as possible. Heating it until it glows a bright red should have the desired effect on her body.” He chuckled. “And since she heals rather quickly, she’ll be perfect for testing my new little toy.”

I swallowed hard, bile rising. I was going to be sick.

“I’m sure she’ll stretch and tear better than I could ever imagine,” he went on, practically delighted. “I also hope to leave a scar or two in her special place once I’m finished with her.”

I pressed my hand to my mouth, fighting the urge to retch.

“Oh, Amy,” he said, his voice rising with glee, “I can’t wait to find your madam. I can already imagine the smell of her seared skin as I insert it—”

My knees nearly buckled.

“—all while I have her tied down to the cross.”

Fuck. No.

He sounded ecstatic.

Practically squealing—like a child anticipating a gift.

I couldn’t stop the tears as they slipped from my eyes while I listened to him. He sounded happy—excited—as he explained his idea of “playtime” to my maid. It was disgusting how animated he became whenever the subject was me. My misery. My punishment.

That was all I was to him now.

With each decade, he devised new tortures for my so-called mishap in Margarethe’s life. It had been so long. Why the hell couldn’t he get over it already?

“My lord,” Amy said carefully, “I’m not sure where she could be. She hasn’t called for me or made her presence known in the castle. But…”

She paused, her voice lowering.

“I can see this conversation has excited you in other ways.”

What?

What other ways was she talking about?

“My lord,” she continued softly, “while you wait for your wife to show her cowardly face… why don’t you and I enjoy each other’s company?”

That f*****g slut.

Was she really talking about me—mocking me—while trying to seduce my mate?

“I mean, if you wish,” she added, her tone turning bolder. “I’ve completed my duties for the moment. I could help you release some of that frustration… another way. You know she always crawls away during this time to avoid your attention.”

My vision swam.

She wanted him.

She wanted my mate.

Oh, my goddess—I had to see it for myself.

Slowly, silently, I eased myself from the folds of the drapery and peered through the narrow opening. My breath caught.

She had one hand beneath her shirt—pressed over her breast—kneading herself without shame. Her other hand rested against his chest, fingers sliding over the exposed skin beneath his partially unbuttoned dress shirt. I watched as her fingertips traced small, deliberate circles while she held his gaze—slow, confident—then licked her lips.

Something hot and ugly twisted inside me.

Fear.

Rage.

And a sudden, violent hatred—not for him in that moment, but for her.

I watched as he took a step closer to her and wrapped his left arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He leaned down and began to leave light, deliberate pecks along her cheek, her jaw, her neck.

“Mmm, my lord,” she murmured. “Your heart is beating faster. Please, let me ease your restlessness.”

Her voice was soft—needy.

I hated her in that moment.

I wanted to rip her away from him. Make them stop. Tear her from his grasp. But I couldn’t move. Fear rooted me in place—fear of what he planned to do to me if I revealed myself. Fear of what would happen if I dared interrupt him while he was indulging in that thing.

That f*****g w***e.

I hate her.

I hate her.

He let her touch him like that—and he enjoyed it.

It had been so long since he had allowed me to touch him. To caress him. To feel his breath on my skin. Watching him give her what was supposed to be mine hurt more than I could bear.

And still—I couldn’t look away.

I watched as he lifted the front of her uniform skirt, exposing her lacy underwear so he could feel her. Tears streamed down my face as his fingers slipped beneath the elastic waistband and began to pet her s*x.

Her breathing turned ragged, forced. She whimpered softly.

“My lord,” she whispered, “please… let us go somewhere more private. Somewhere we can enjoy each other better. I promise we won’t need this for what I have planned to do to your body.”

She reached for the box tucked beneath his arm and placed it carefully on one of the side tables.

“Come, my lord.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself fully against him before kissing him. He responded instantly—one hand tightening around her waist, the other gripping the back of her head as he deepened the kiss.

As he lifted her, pressing their bodies closer together, Amy instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist and began to grind against him.

She moaned.

He growled in approval.

What the hell? My f*****g maid was screwing my mate.

I immediately wanted to know how long this had been going on. She had been betraying me, and now she didn’t care if I knew it or not. She was a traitor.

It hurt knowing that he no longer desired me in this way and was happily cheating on me with my maid, regardless of me being his mate and wearing his marking. He pulled away for a moment and smiled at her, making her smile back.

“Ah, Amy, you are a surprising breath of fresh air.”

Ugh. Why was this happening to me?

He was showing her affection I had not seen in hundreds of years. I honestly did not think he was still capable of such beautiful praises. Watching this was beginning to make me weak, but I could not look away. He held her closely in his arms, turned, and walked away out of my view—no doubt leading her to his bedroom.

I guess you could say I wanted to make sure my heart was smashed entirely to pieces, because I couldn’t help but tiptoe out of my hiding spot and peek around the corner to continue watching them together. She still had her legs wrapped around his waist while kissing his neck.

However, she somehow sensed I was watching.

In that brief moment, she glanced up at me and mouthed I’m sorry right before nibbling on his ear, then raised her hand to run her fingers through his hair. I watched as her index finger pointed ever so slightly toward the box on the side table before she went back to kissing his neck.

Wait.

What?

Did she draw his attention away so he would forget about me for now? Was she allowing me the opportunity to get away from his future torture? So was she a traitor or not? I was unsure.

The last thing I heard him say was, “Come, my sweet. I believe I have the tool you need to fulfill your current need, and if I am being honest with you, Amy, I am looking forward to what you have planned for us during our time together.”

Then there was a loud slap, and she giggled as they disappeared down the hall.

I hid once again around the corner and allowed myself to slide down the wall. I couldn’t help but feel heartbroken as I watched my mate—my love, my life partner for all eternity—show so much affection to another woman as he expressed his enjoyment of her attention.

I, too, wanted to receive that same undivided attention.

I waited about ten minutes, listening to the silence of the walls before standing up. I felt like I was walking on eggshells as I made my way to the side table with the box. I opened the lid and saw his new precious Pear of Anguish. It was a pear-shaped gadget made of individual gold leaflets with serrated edges. The teeth closed perfectly. The internal post was like a screw, and at the head was a handle with a large ruby and a gold-embroidered M. M for Margarethe.

I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by this terrifying contraption.

How did it work?

If he designed this with her in mind, maybe it wasn’t as horrible as I imagined when he talked about it. I grabbed the so-called Pear and began to turn the handle clockwise. As the screw twisted and lowered into the center, the leaves began to open. The more I turned the handle, the more the leaves opened. Then there was a click, and the leaves sprang open into what looked like a lotus flower.

Realization rolled over me in waves of terror. My stomach flipped violently, and my vision was on the verge of betraying me. He was planning on heating the metal until it was glowing bright red, and then he planned to insert this into my womb and force it open.

I tossed the mechanism back into the box, grabbed the lid, and tucked the box under my arm as I headed to the library.

It’s official and I want to die. I no longer have the will or desire to continue this existence. I never want to see him or be in his presence again. I have to do something—but what? There had to be at least one of the Celestials who would be willing to help me with my predicament. I know that being the last of my kind, they would not allow me to die, but there had to be something I could do.

Maybe I could convince one of them to transport me to the Nothing.

Yes. That would work.

As I thought more about this new plan, it was perfect. Lucian would never follow me into the Nothing, and more importantly, he would never find me there. I ensured his box was secured under my arm, then flashed to the closest Celestial my soul could reach.

“Orion.”