I was his enemy.
I needed to keep that in mind moving forward with him.
The knowledge that he had decorated this entire wing with things we’d discussed as I’d recovered from the attack by Laura. The tub was something I’d explained in detail, along with the fireplace beside it.
The embellishments he’d added were for me, which meant he’d wanted me to know he’d designed it as a gilded cage. Rhys chose most of the designs to throw in my face. Sure, there were parts he’d chosen himself.
He’d added a masculine touch to remind me where I live now. But also, he made the rules I now had to follow and obey. Rhysenjoyed having power over me. At least, that’s what it felt like. In doing so, he’d built us the perfect home, even if it hadn’t been his intent. He’d added the magic, then ensured it pulsated like a living, breathing domicile. He had wanted me to feel it, to know it was a gilded cage.
I couldn’t escape this place.
One, I couldn’t escape.
It was filled with him, as well. From his addictive cologne wafting through the air like Febreze, to the masculine touches he’d personally added to each room. I couldn’t escape this place and I couldn’t escapehim.
Closing my eyes, I slowly sank beneath the watery surface. The moment I was completely submerged, I released a scream that resulted in bubbles of air rushing to the surface. The water concealed the frustration and pain my scream held.
Only when my lungs burned with actual pain did I emerge from the water. The moment my head lifted, I caught the addictive smell of whiskey, dark whispers of smoke, and masculinity clouding the air surrounding me.
“Jesus, rice, and holy wheat crackers,” I muttered in a tone crammed full of exhaustion.
It wasn’t the usual exhaustion. It was bone deep, as if it had soaked into the very core of my being. I’d aged since returning to this shithole I’d once called home. As if I’d been forced to lose the naivety that I’d once worn like blinders.
There was nothing wrong with holding some innocence. I’d never been ashamed of the childish hopes I’d dreamed for my future, or whatever dreams I’d fantasized about throughout adolescence. At least, I had held some until it was taken away from me.
Rhys had swallowed my innocence with his darkness. He’d swallowed my light, then spit me out once he’d fully devoured it.It had left me inundated in obscurity, forced to feel it caressing against my flesh every moment of every single day.
I didn’t even hate him for altering what or who I’d been before meeting him. I couldn’t. Rhys had replaced my light with something so precious that I’d die to protect it. He’d given me a child. One that was created from joining two souls together.
One soul created of light, the other dark.
He’d given me a child. One that needed me to face the harsh reality of the world we lived in. Rhys might’ve taken my naivety away, but he’d replaced it with something inimitable.
Sure, anyone could create a life together. This was much bigger than that, though. Rhys had knowingly impregnated me during Beltane. He’d wanted me to carry his child. I had to figure out what he’d done by taking advantage of my gullibility.
I wassuchan idiot.
It begged the question: had he wanted this child? Had he ensured we created one together for a more sinister reason, or did he crave to be a father? If he did, it would make this easier for the two of us.
I wasn’t afraid of raising a child alone. Many women did so easily. Luckily, I hadn’t been born in some medieval time where a woman needed a man to do everything for her or support her and her offspring.
If Rhys refused to aid me with his child, then I’d do whatever it took to do it on my own. It wasn’t a question. I’d do whatever it took to ensure my child never went without.
I had nothing to offer my child other than love. If I had to, I’d lean on my family to safeguard my child’s future.
I’d figure out how to get whatever we needed, but having help from Rhys would ease the stress I felt daily, without being able to afford the immense cost that raising a child came with.
The attack on Nyota by my silver probably ruined any chance of happiness we might have had. Illeron’s timing couldn’t havebeen worse. He’d intended to overthrow Rhys, using me as a scapegoat for his achieving that goal.
Worrying about Nyota was twisting my stomach into knots. Being here, alone, without anyone to talk to or consult about what occurred, wasn’t helping. Normally, I could solve a puzzle if I talked about it with another, but I had no allies in this house. Rhys wasn’t an option, either.
He hadn’t even questioned my guilt, which hurt. Instead, he’d had me hauled to my gilded cage, then locked inside. Rhys hadn’t asked me what happened inside that room.
Of course, Illeron had immediately called into question his ability to protect those beneath his vow of protection. He’d used me to ensure others would question it as well, pointing out how biased he was due to bringing me here, along with the child I carried.
“Lovely.” Rhys’ husky timbre caressed my flesh like a lover’s tender touch as he forced my mind back to the present, away from my worries.
A shiver rushed down my spine as I caught his reflection in the glass. He’d removed his shirt, then changed out of his slacks. Dressed only in gray sweatpants, he stood poised in the doorway with his hands resting on the overhead frame. It caused the muscles of his abdomen to flex, revealing his impressive ink and muscles.
