Chapter 58 - Are you lying to me?

EMMA

I lie flabbergasted on the bed. Did Hadrian really just leave? In the middle of an argument? In the middle of…

My core clenches and the sore ache returns. I rub my feet over the soft cotton sheets and the soreness in my thighs is evident. Every movement is a reminder of last night. Or morning? How late is it even?

I sit up on the bed. The sun shines bright through the window and reflects on a white piece of paper on the bed. The paper has dirt stains and is crumbled. I pick it up and notice that my name is written on it.

“Emma?”

I look up at Hadrian as he stands in the doorway with an apprehensive gaze. His amber eyes show the sudden wariness.

“What is this?” I hold the folded note between two fingers.

Hadrian moves closer to me, but his movements are strained and hesitant. “It’s a note from your attacker.” He speaks every word as if he’s afraid that it will detonate a bomb or something.

I frown at his strange behavior, but curiosity gets the better of me. I tear open the note.

*Meet me in the bowels of hell under the palace.*

“What is under the palace?”

Hadrian looks over my shoulder and keeps a careful five feet distance. “The dungeons.”

I notice that he has his fists clenched and there is a strain in his noticeable muscles. I place the note back on the bed and turn my attention to Hadrian. “Are you okay?”

He has a wary look on his face. “Have you ever heard of sorcery?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Sure.”

“You have?” He holds those apprehensive eyes and casts them over me three times.

“What are you doing?” I ask when it starts to creep me out.

“Are you a sorceress?”

I laugh, but Hadrian keeps his features schooled and my laughter dies down. “Oh, you’re serious.”

I roll my eyes and get off the bed. Hadrian steps aside and keeps the same distance from me.

“No Hadrian, I’m not a sorceress. Nor have I ever been in contact with…” I walk to the dressing room as an old memory tries to make itself known. I wave it away and get my jeans from the drawer.

Hadrian bursts behind me through the doorway of the dressing room. “What is it? Are you lying to me?” His jaw locks and his muscles are tense.

I turn to him and I frown. Hadrian stares intently at me and it makes me doubtful of my own words.

“I don’t think so.” I tell him honestly.

I twist the denim in my hands and I swallow a lump in my throat. The idea of Hadrian questioning me feels like a knife in the back. I have not much here and I hold on to the little things I do have. The little truths that keep me sane in all the misfortune. Tears well up in my eyes and I blink them away with a sniffle. Hadrian sighs and his shoulders drop in defeat.

“I don’t know why I’m even crying.”

Hadrian pulls me into a hug and runs his hand up and down my back. “A lot has happened, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you earlier.”

Everything that has happened yesterday goes into the same hole as all the other hurt and suffering from over the years. I don’t stop to think them through. I’ve learned to live with pain a long time ago and face them head on. Hopefully it won’t bite me in the ass one day.

“I think I want to go to the dungeons.”

———————

I change into my favorite pair of jeans, but the buttons won’t close. The denim around my thighs fits snugger than I remember. “Shoot.”

“What’s wrong?” Hadrian calls from behind me.

I look at myself in the mirror and notice the rounder curve of my hips and thighs. “I think I gained weight.”

The past couple of months have been loaded with so much food. Cecile, Gaius, Paulina, they have all been shoving food my way for weeks. And I ate it all. There was a scarcity of food around at home. We had to make do with less and my body adapted to it, to an extent.

Hadrian releases an exhale. “We’ll get the tailor to make you a new pair of jeans.”

I jump up and down in my jeans to get it to go higher and spin around in an attempt to close the zipper. “I don’t want any other jeans.”

“If you continue to twirl your ass around like that, then you won’t be wearing jeans much longer.” Hadrian growls.

“Stop mocking me.” I shout at him through the mirror and feel tears threaten to rise again.

He encloses his arms around my hips. “Does this feel like I’m mocking you?” One hand travels over my stomach and his arousal presses against my back.

I gasp and his touch sends me into a state of pleasure. Hadrian leans down and places kisses along my neck. I open my neck wider for him. He has mastered avoiding my necklace and sucks down on the pleasure point below my ear.

“Are you not afraid that I’ll charm you with my sorcery powers?” I say as I let out a breathy moan.

His lips graze the shell of my ear. “I’m already spellbound by you.”

He turns me around and walks me back until my back is pressed against the wall. He kisses me hard and his touches are less innocent now. His hand slides down my backside and teases me from behind.

His lips move from my neck to my chest. I look up at the wall that I’m pressed against. His creativity goes beyond me. Here I was thinking that sex was something for the bedroom.

“Is that something you want?” I ask Hadrian in a breathless voice.

Yesterday we had sex in his office on his desk. Is he expecting the same creativity from me? Does he want to have sex against all inanimate objects?

“Against the wall?” I clarify.

Hadrian looks up at me with a pensive gaze. “Yes, I’d like to fuck you in many places.”

“Outside as well?” I shriek. My heart rate starts to pick up when I try to figure out how this would all work.

Hadrian smirks. “Yes.”

“The bathroom?”

“Especially the bathroom.” Hadrian presses his forehead against mine. “Don’t overthink it.”

“What?” My breaths get shorter with every passing second.

He spread a hand out over my back. “You’re panicking.”

“I just don’t know how.” I tell him honestly. My body flushes further when I admit the embarrassing fact.

“Then I’ll show you how.” He whispers against my mouth. His eyes are predatory and they have their sight on their prey.

“The dungeons.” I blurt out and place my hands on his pecs.

Hadrian scrunches his nose. “I wasn’t really thinking of the dungeons.”

I shake my head when I stare too long at the firm tissue beneath my hands. “No, I mean, we should go to the dungeons.”

It’s not that I don't want to do these things with this unprecedented specimen, but I’m still sore and the curiosity about my attacker is still nagging in my brain. Who is the woman? Maybe Hadrian was right, when he said that I’m a glutton for curiosity.

“I’m not taking you to the dungeons.” His voice is stern and unwavering.

“But the note.” I say with a pout. I push out my bottom lip and blink at him with what I hope are big sad eyes.

Hadrian rubs his jaw and growls. “Fine.”

He stares deep in my eyes. They’re laden with intensity and hold my gaze as if trapping me. “Are you sure you’re not a sorceress?”

————————

The dungeons are frigid, dark and murky. The path is dirty and uneven. The air is damp due to the water trickling down the walls. The only daylight coming in is from tiny holes high in the walls that are sparsely spaced out.

I can’t believe that people are locked up here. The lack of sunlight and sogginess in the air is a recipe for disease. They may be werewolves, but no living being can survive this for a long period of time.

“Don’t tell me that people are actually locked up here.”

“They’re convicted criminals.” Hadrian counters and we pass a row of empty cells. “Watch out for the bars.”

We pass a cell and there is nothing more to it than a square dirty ground behind a row of shiny metal bars.

The distraction takes my eyes from my feet and I trip over the uneven ground. I catch myself on the metal bars and Hadrian tears my hand away and hisses in the process.

“I said watch out.”

I blink at his harsh tone. “Why? What’s wrong?”

He clutches his hand with the other and brings it to the light. The side of his hand is burned and the skin blisters. “The bars are made of silver.”

I look at my own hand, but mine is unscathed. Which is logical because I’m not a werewolf. “I’m not sensitive to silver, remember.”

Annoyance builds up in my chest. Hadrian didn’t have to get hurt. I touch the silver bars to prove my point and nothing happens. Hadrian grumbles and avoids my eyes.

“Do you want me to kiss it better?” I joke and try to lighten the mood.

Hadrian holds out his hand. “Yes, can you do that?”

I stare him dead in the eye. “It was a joke.”

Hadrian holds my gaze. “I don’t get it.”

I throw my hand up in the air. “It’s just something we say. You know what, never mind.” Explaining a joke is never a good sign.

Hadrian narrows his eyes at me and I can see disappointment through the shadows.

Sometimes, I don’t know how to communicate with my werewolf husband. I indulge him at his request and press my lips against his battered skin with a kissing sound. “Here, all better.”

Hadrian blinks and looks at his hand. “It does feel better.”

I scoff and place my hands on my sides. “Very funny.”

“No, I mean it.”

I look at his hand and the skin actually starts to heal before our eyes. I look up and find Hadrian watching me with narrow eyes.

“I’m not a sorceress!” I whisper-yell at him.

“Emma?” The whisper of my name doesn’t come from Hadrian, nor is it a replay of a memory in my mind. The female whisper is real and comes from the cell beside us.

A figure steps into the light behind the silver bars and dirty blond hair comes into view. Familiar sky blue eyes watch me with caution.

It stops my heartbeat and I gasp.

“Mom?”