CHAPTER 177: ODETTE AND AMBROSE

***AUTHOR’S NOTE: REPEAT OF Chapter 35 IN "I WAS KIDNAPPED FOR REVENGE BY A RUTHLESS ALPHA, SORRY AGAIN IF YOU’RE READING BOTH, BUT IT’S WORLD BUILDING. HOPE YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND ***

ODETTE’S POV:

"This time, I’ll trust you, but if you steer me wrong. Never again" I teased wagging my finger.

He laughed, it was real laugh, genuine and deep.

"All seriousness. You think you can forgive him?" He asked me with a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Doubtful, why would he want my forgiveness anyways? He hates me and only keeps me alive to torture me for the sins of my father. He doesn’t want my forgiveness; he wants my tears from pain. And he’ll never get them." I was deliberately cold with my words.

I mean how could I ever forgive someone who shattered my heart by killing me?

"I think he wants it a lot more than you think." He told me.

"Yeah, I’m sure. When he kisses my feet, that’s when I’ll forgive him, but until that happens, no. I’ll just silently do what he asks and live my life. I’ll outlive him, so eventually I’ll have my freedom." I snubbed the idea of giving him anything after that.

"That’s a pretty steep price." He sounded disappointed, but I really couldn’t care. I’d bury any and everything I could have ever feel for that beast.

"It’s one he can’t afford to pay. And even if he could, it’s one he’d never pay. Whatever that was, it’s been snuffed out." What was I even talking about, there was never anything. Just a dog playing tricks on me.

"I think if you gave him a..."

I interrupted him before he could finish "What a chance? He doesn’t want one. If he did, he wouldn’t have killed me. Plus, I’m engaged, my heart belongs to another man, and I’d sooner hang myself than give my heart to an undeserving beast like him. You can leave the room and join your buddy if you want to keep talking about him."

He quieted down after that and the warm and wholesome environment we just had, was gone, replaced by an awkward discomfort neither of us would probably address.

I finished the strawberry swirl brownies and took one leaving the rest in the kitchen.

"I’m going back to my room, and if he tried to bring me back, tell him, I’ll lock myself in the dungeon and starve instead." Leaving him alone in the kitchen.

When I swung open the kitchen door, I heard a smack and then a thud.

"Oh gods, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean..." I paused when I saw Ambrose leaning against the wall "Oh it’s you, never mind what I said."

I just walked past him, leaving him holding his nose. I had nothing to say to him. And his face was the last thing I wanted to see. My heart broke all over again the minute I saw him. I hated that beautiful face.

I locked myself in my room for the rest of the day. Emalea brought me some food from the kitchen, that’s still sitting on the table. I couldn’t swallow anything, not even the brownie I made. My throat still ached, and the bruising was still there. I don’t know how long it would take for the bruise to go away. I couldn’t stand looking in the mirror, I felt ashamed every time I saw it.

She also brought me a few books from the library, I guess she knew I needed time, she didn’t push me to talk and gave me the space I didn’t need to ask for.

I dozed off while reading only to be awoken by a howl across the hall. It was a torrential downpour. Lightning flashed across the sky followed by a loud window shaking thunder.

I always did love a good thunderstorm; it was soothing and calming.

Another howl ripped through the corridor. I needed to know what that was. It was heart wrenching, like the cry of a wounded animal.

Leaving the room the howling got louder, the sound of thudding repeated over and over again. When I arrived at the source, I found myself standing in front of his room. The room I died in.

The moment of blacking out replayed in mind.

I stood outside. Listening to the painful ear-piercing cry that was just behind the door.

Despite my trembling. Despite my better judgement. Despite it all, I opened the door.

What I saw, nothing could have prepared me for.

I saw a pitiful, twisted, broken man curled on the floor, his clothes torn, stained with blood. His claws were long covered in a dark red liquid. He had been clawing at his skin repeatedly. Healing before he shredded more skin.

At first, I stood in shock and then horror.

Seeing him, weak and crumbled on the ground like a bad poem someone wrote and threw away.

I broke. Whatever resilience I had, whatever spine I was using to keep me standing tall, snapped. I couldn’t handle seeing him like that. Didn’t matter that he killed me. Didn’t matter that he kidnapped me. None of it mattered at the moment.

I couldn’t stop myself. My feet dragged me to the man on the floor in fetal position.

I knelt down, and did something I’d never think I’d do for anyone.

I pulled him into my lap, and I rubbed his head. I hummed a tune that always filled my heart with joy.

The man in my lap began to mellow, his breathing once erratic had slowed and steadied out. His claws retracted and his muscles relaxed.

I kept humming and rubbing for I don’t know how long. As I started drifting off to sleep, his groan pulled me from my dozing.

"No one is supposed to be here, so why are you?" he asked me.

"I’m not, you’re dreaming, and I’ll be gone before you wake. Just sleep now." I whispered softly to him.

"This is no dream; I don’t dream in thunderstorms." He replied quietly.

"You want me to leave now?" I growled.

He stopped speaking and laid there silently. My legs were going numb, and my knees were getting stiff.

"Will you stay here tonight?" He asked me with a soft voice. One I would never have expected him to be capable of.

"No." I said firmly, I wasn’t going to put myself in another position to get hurt.

But then he gazed up at me with soft and pleading expression. Like a small boy begging to be held after a bad dream.

"Fine. But just for the night. But I’ll be damned if you think I’ll sleep sitting up." If I had to stay here, with him, I’d sleep on a king’s bed.

He stood up, grabbing hold of my hand. Not with his usual rough strong grip, but with a gentle guiding one.

He crawled on the bed; I climbed in after him.

"Can I... Can I hold you?" He whispered, I could hear the fear in his voice. It was unnerving and concerning. I almost said yes. Almost.

"No. But, I’ll be the big spoon. I don’t want you touching me."

He was looking at me, yearning in his eyes. In the dim light of the room in between the flashes of lightning, I could see his eyes move away from mine, following my jaw line and stopping at my neck.

I knew what he was looking at.

He was looking at his handprints around my neck. The purple, blue and green bruising that still decorated my skin like a diamond necklace.

"I’m sorry." He whispered reaching out to touch it but halted midair.

"Touch me, and I’ll break your fucking finger." He didn’t deserve my touch let alone touching me.

He hesitated, pulling his hand back.

"I’m really sorry..." He whispered again before turning away from me.

I scooted in closer and wrapped myself around him and quietly said back. "I know."