𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 [𝟏𝟖+] ✓

21

A loud bang on the door made me jerk back in fright. A knock was followed by the voice of velvet and chaos. "Katrina. Open the door."

Shocked to hear the change in his tone, I unlocked the door and threw it open, eyes meeting his as I stepped out of the room.

"What?"

His eyes coasted over my figure before he pointed at the bed. "Go, sit."

Clueless about his motive and thankful for his interruption, I sauntered to the bed and perched down on the bed. Anxiety creeping inside me, I started to trace silly patterns on the duvet.

"You were talking to yourself. Tell me why," he enquired, eyes singularly focused on me as he leaned against the wall opposite to me.

At that moment, he looked every bit the conniving man Brooke had warned me about. He looked like someone far cruller than the demons in my head. He looked like someone who scrutinised more than my mother. Those alarming green eyes locked with my eyes, dragging me into endless chaos.

My breathing elevated. Tearing my eyes away from him, I let the denial leave my lips. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't?" He cocked a brow. "Lying is not your biggest suit, Spitfire. Try again."

Oh, no. He knew. He knew. He had heard me talk. He had seen me cut myself. He had noticed. Of course, he had noticed it. Nothing slipped past him usually.

"I don't understand."

"The bandage around your wrist testifies otherwise."

My heart began to pound with dread in my chest. No. No. How could he know this?

"If you don't want me knocking on Matilda's door for answers, then tell me what's happening." He sounded relentless, and he looked intimidating.

His tone. His threat. His tyranny broke a visceral part of my heart and it started to gallop like a deer sprinting for its life, escaping with every last of its remnants. My breathing became short and my fingers started to buzz on automation.

The scent of smoke. The sound of thunder rumbling. The flash of lightning. The sound of a haunting melody. The feel of a blade cutting through my skin. The images of blood trails descended on me. My mind spun from my mum to Cain, to Kendra, to Brooke as everything crashed on me. Gruesome scenes. Dreadful moments. Helpless episodes.

Tasting tears on my tongue, I willed my fingers to stop shaking with fear, unable to understand what was happening. Was this a panic attack? Was this an anxiety attack? Or, far worse, was this Diaval punishing me? No, no. Hayden would think I was insane. I wasn't insane. I wasn't unhinged. Desperation for acceptance clawing at my guts, I cried, feeling the ache in my chest.

Hands held my shoulders, rocking me as I cried, wondering why I was leading this life if all everyone did was throw brutal threats and emotional manipulation in my face. Everyone threw my scars in my face. Everyone thought I was insane. And Hayden? Hayden was the worst of all.

"Katrina," he cajoled, hands snaking up to my face. Thumbs draining my tears, he brushed my hair out of my face as he gazed into my eyes. "It's okay. You're safe."

"My soft, soft Spitfire..." he added, one hand finding my left hand. Holding my shaking hand in his, he commanded. "Breathe."

"You were threatening..." I whimpered, the organ in my chest hammering, tears sliding with no count of control.

His brows dipped down in a frown as he said, "You remember your safeword?" I nodded through tears and he added. "Then, all you had to do was say it, Spitfire."