Chapter 126: Grace
I sat at the small table in our room that Rhys had had brought in for us. I had stared at my closet for a long time, unsure of what to wear. Rhys, noticing my indecision, had been kind enough to pull out a pair of leggings, and a long sleeve shirt for me. Apparently, while I had been cocooning in bed, winter had rolled right in. The mountain had seen it first. The mountain that I hated. The mountain I had been proposed to on. The mountain I had nearly died on. The mountain that had proved what I had always known: that I was nothing special.
“Stop staring,” I mumbled, moving a piece of toast slowly to my mouth. I really wasn’t hungry, but Rhys seemed to think I needed to eat.
“I’m just so happy you’re eating.” He said sheepishly, a slight blush tinging his cheeks.
“I ate.” I retorted with a little more fire than I had intended.
Rhys narrowed his eyes at me, “Three bites of every meal does not count as eating.”
I averted my gaze from his intense one. I didn’t like making him angry, but food didn’t sound appealing at all.
“You’ve lost weight, Grace,” Rhys chided.
I looked up at him in surprise. “Am I prettier?” I asked, Kinsley’s words running through my head. She had always said I was too fat, and no guy would ever want me. I wanted to be enough for Rhys.
The horror on Rhys’ face though made me look away.
“Gracie,” He said sternly, forcing me to look up at him again. “You have always been perfect to me. But I don’t want to see your ribs. I don’t want you fading away right in front of me. I don’t want to lose you because of some fad. I want you, and all of you, no matter what you look like. You are the most beautiful person in the world to me. And nothing could ever change that.”
My heart fluttered, perhaps even happily for the first time in a while. There was just something about this man that always seemed to know exactly what I needed.
“I wasn’t too fat?” I asked, feeling small. “I had gained quite a bit of weight since I had arrived.”
A possessive growl escaped Rhys’ lips, and his eyes flickered from their usual color to a darker almost black color.
“No.” He finally bit out, still fighting his wolf for control. “You will always look perfect to me. But I prefer you to be healthy and not wasting away. I love you for you, Grace. Your looks are only a small part of you. But as much as I love your looks, I love your mind too. I love you as a whole.”
“Even if I can’t shift?” I had asked him this already. I knew his answer, but I needed reassurance right now. “Even if I will never be able to shift?”
“Especially when you can’t shift.” He assured me, reaching out and running his fingers through my loose, still damp, hair. “I love you for all that you are, not all that you’re not.”
There was a knock at the door, but whoever it was didn’t wait for clearance, and just walked right in.
“Grace!” Sawyer gasped in surprise.
I managed a small smile, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. He had seen me at my absolute worst and knowing that made me feel... vulnerable. I didn’t love that Rhys had seen me at my worst... The way I had been nearly killed by the witch. The way I had tried to shift and broken what was inside of myself. The way I had laid in that stupid bed for goddess knows how long. I could live with Rhys seeing me like that... He was my mate after all. But know Sawyer had? And Leon? Oh god, that was mortifying.
“What are you doing here?” Rhys asked tiredly.
Sawyer looked back and forth between the two of us in a stunned silence before finally shaking himself out of it and moving toward us.
“These came today.” Sawyer said finally, reluctantly handing over the vanilla envelope.
Rhys took the envelope cautiously as if he was nervous about its contents. It was odd
I wanted to ask what it was, but I didn’t feel like talking anymore, especially in front of Sawyer. Talking was the one thing I could control.
Rhys slowly opened the envelope and pulled out the contents, which looked like pictures. I leaned in closer, wondering what they were.
But I immediately regretted it. The photos were grotesque. Mutilated bodies. Blood leaking from every orifice of their body. Marks of various ages. Male. Female. Black. White. Young. Old. I looked away, unable to look at them any longer. How could anyone do this?
“Who delivered these?” Rhys asked, his voice shaking ever so slightly with something I didn’t fully understand.
“That’s the thing... No one saw...”
“They were dropped at our front steps.”
Goddess, I felt sick.
“Just like the last ones?” Rhys asked, his anger evident now.
“Yes.” Sawyer answered simply, his eyes not leaving the pictures, but his face showed no emotions.
Wait... The last ones?
I looked at Rhys, hoping he understood my question without me having to ask.
He looked at me, his gaze softening just a bit as his eyes met mine, but the anger on his face was still palpable.
“This is the third one we have received since we got back...” Rhys explained, picking up the photos and shoving them back into the folder.
I grabbed one out of the pile though, there was something terrifyingly familiar about it. It looked to be a young kid, maybe 11 or 12. His hair was blonde in a bowl cut. His back was torn apart by what looked like whipping marks. I had had enough of them that I knew what that looked like. I couldn’t put my finger on what drew me to the image, but the weirder part to me was that unlike all of the others, this kid looked to be... Alive.
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