Simply A Sacrifice

Chapter 18: Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

For those who celebrate - Merry Christmas!!! 
For everyone - hope you are having a wonderful December. Last few days of 2017, can you believe it? :)
I understand that festivities and/or the end of the year can be really difficult for some people, so here is an update as a little gift from me. Keep on keeping on, you can get through this <3

______
Warmth. It was the first thing I noticed when I woke up. I was warm and better yet, I was comfortable.

I shifted slightly as I checked that I was still in one piece. All limbs were accounted for and I sighed. I'm still alive. That's an accomplishment. My stomach grumbled and I sighed again. Some things never change.

There was a grunt as I pushed my elbow out to try and extract myself from the bed, my eyes still mostly shut from sleep. I paused.

A slow swivel of my head to identify the source of the grunt...

"Adahy," I breathed, imagining my voice as soft and husky and cringing as I heard a voice that sounded like a toad being stepped on.

Those stormy grey eyes stared back at me. My body was anchored in place by a muscular arm thrown over my stomach. I was, in so far as I could tell, naked once again. I thankfully was wrapped in a blanket to protect my dignity.

I was with Adahy again.

Waves of relief crashed against the rocky shoreline that was now my heart. I consciously pushed down my shoulders, which had begun to creep up towards my ears at that thought. Admitting vulnerability always made me feel uncomfortable, but it was finally becoming second nature to approach every situation as a victim.

It was time to find out where I stood – at least as far as my life was concerned.

"Adahy," I started again. My hands had become incredibly interesting. Tracing the lines in my palm, I hesitated. The answer to this question was everything. If he answered satisfactorily, I could try slowly break down my walls one last time. If not, I wasn't sure how much longer fate would favour my life.

"Am I safe?" I finally mumbled. I sat up, squared my shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes.

He sat up to face me, the duvet slipping down his bare chest and renewing my confidence in my self-diagnosis.

"Stockholm syndrome," the little doctor in my head said gravely.

"It's a severe case," his partner agreed.

"Not much to be done," the first doctor said.

I shook my head. I was absolutely losing it.  You are never going to stand a chance with him if you can't get yourself under control - pull yourself together, woman!

"Amadahy, are you okay?" Adahy asked, his voice resonating with every cell in my body. My body was already humming with satisfaction at just being in his presence. But I was done playing games and I would not make the same mistake twice.

"If you must know, then no. No, I am not freaking okay. Because I grew up my whole life thinking my parents had me for the sole reason of sending me off with a random stranger to clear their debt. I'm not a person. I've never been a person. I'm a PAYMENT," I said, my voice taking on a slight hysterical note on the last word. Adahy, on his part, had the decency to look at least a little sheepish. But I wasn't finished.

"And then I find out that not only am I being essentially discarded by my family, but that they also suspect that he might use me as a human sacrifice. So not only are they okay with giving me away, but they also don't care whether I live or die." I noted the slight tremor of Adahy's body, the thin line his mouth had morphed into and the white knuckles of his fists.