The Usurper's Throne

39

Horror. Horror. Horror.

I would never be whole again, I realized. I was damaged goods.

Finally, I turned to him. I didn't realize it, but I had been squeezing his hand. Hard. I remember that as a kid when I had blood drawn, I could hang on to one of my auntie's hands for dear life. I was holding his hand the same way.

"Damien?" I asked.

He looked up. It was Elijah.

Not Damien.

Horror.

I shook my head slowly, trying to keep my heartrate at a normal speed. "Elijah," I corrected myself quietly. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Elijah. Elijah. "I'm done," I said. I tried to say it as matter-of-factly as possible, but tears burst out of me.

Elijah gently slid next to me on the bed. It was large enough for two. He cradled me against him carefully.

"Elijah," I sobbed. "I am so tired. I can't—" I sobbed, "I can't handle any more. I'm going to break. I can't. I can't. I can't."

His embrace didn't change, and I just clung to his shirt, weeping into him, even as my ribs ached sorely.

"Please," I begged frantically. "Please take us to the dark realm. Please. Please," I begged.

He gently shushed me. "We're here. It's okay."

I glanced out from the security of his arms and saw everything was gray before diving back into the safety of his arms. We were safe. Damien couldn't get me in here. No one could.

"Elijah," I sobbed. "I can't handle any more. I hurt so bad. I'm done." I was shaking hard. "I'm done. I can't. I can't."

Elijah nodded and I felt his hand dip down to soothingly brush my wings. He gently tightened his grip. "Naomi, I am so sorry it took me this long. The first time I saw you, I should have taken you away. I regret that so much." He leaned his head down to rest his chin on my head. "But we're here now. You're okay. You're okay. No one will hurt you again. You're under my protection, okay? I will protect you," he said fiercely.

I pulled him closer, desperate for his comfort.

"I will protect you as long as you want me to. I promise. I promise."