Unholy Love

Chapter Eighteen

When I wake up, I feel like I have been hit with a hammer on the head. It is throbbing like I have had too much to drink. Is this what happened? That is the last thing I remember, being at the masquerade ball and now here, back in the bedroom where I was getting ready at with Lilith.

I sit up in bed, but my body feels wilted, like I just had all energy drained out of me. As I examine my limbs, I notice I have some kind of bandage on my finger; its wet and gooey. At closer inspection I notice it is a leaf. But why do I have a leaf on my finger?

Rather clumsily I begin to peel the sticky nature off, but the sound of a creaking door and heavy footsteps cause me to pause and look up.

Damien is standing in the doorway. His hair is tussled in all the wrong directions and he looks impatient as I watch his chest move more noticeably.

"What happened?" I try asking but my voice sounds raspy.

"Your Nina tried to poison you with her snake," he sounds apologetic. His eyes guise sympathetically towards me as he sits down beside me on the bed.

He takes my hand in his and delicately unravels my finger. I stare at it surprised. There is nothing there, not a single mark. Then it strikes my brain fog to realisation.

"How long ago was the ball?"

I look at Damien begging him with my eyes to not tell me what I think he is about to say.

"A few days, it's a Wednesday afternoon."

Fuck! It can't have been this long!

Restlessly, I push the covers from my body and stand to my feet, but I get a sudden spell of faintness. Damien holds my limp body up and sits me down onto the squishy bed I was just in.

"Here, drink this," he orders holding up a small wooden bowl. There are flowers and some kind of herbs in it and the water is a beautiful shade of pink.

"What is it?"

"A healing elixir, I had Lilith make it for you."

Anxiously, with my unsteady hands I take the bowl. Without wanting to smell it I take a sip. Much to my surprise it doesn't taste like anything, so I take another sip. Within seconds I feel a source of an electrifying liquid running through my veins. It makes me feel better and I wonder how that works, is it some witchy work? Perhaps, but Lilith isn't a witch, is she?

Once I finish consuming the elixir down my body Damien takes the bowl out of my hands and puts it back onto the nightstand.

He sits beside me and cups my face. His well-known warmth causes me to press my cheek into his palm. I close my eyes. His touch is my home. His body a temple for me to run to when I need him to protect me. He is and always will be my unholy love.

"I'm sorry," he whispers as I press my face into his chest. It feels like only yesterday I was engulfing myself with his bodily scent.

"Don't apologise, it isn't your fault."

"I should have taken greater precautions," he states. "I promise that once we find her, I won't let her slip away, I will have her tortured in the most unimaginable ways."

"Don't," I squeeze my arms around him. "Let's not talk about torture please, I don't think my stomach can handle that."

He grunts against my hair and I know he is still thinking about it. I pull away and stand in front of the bed this time not feeling dizzy. I glare down at the handsome Devil below me.

"I don't want you to torture her," I tell him.

"Annabelle, she tried to kill you, you can't expect me not to do nothing about it."