Chapter 389: Fractured
Owen fucking Sherman, the current leader of the witch society residing in Juneau ever since his father stepped down. This town is shared by five supernatural families... The Devereaux, Juneau’s, Adam, Sherman’s and the Hathaway’s. But with The Juneau’s now gone extinct it was down to 4 families.
Every one of them knows better than to mind their own damn business and especially not to cross my path, they know better. But it seems like I must have done the trespassing myself, no doubt that this was his property but I don’t give a fuck.
"An audience?" I replied to his earlier question.
Yeah, I rember that and I also rember declining that request, I don’t give two shits about what they want I have other better things to do.
He was on the verge of speaking but his eyes landed on her behind
and by instinct, I stepped in front of her.
I gave him a stone-cold look and he knew better than to ask questions.
Getting the mo he said "Yes, much to discuss"
"How about we do that in a proper eting?"
"Let’s hope you’re not too busy when that ti cos, I feel like you’re ignoring , Devereaux"
I wanted to speak but I felt her cold hand on my back, shaking. When she gripped my shirt hard like a hold for sothing, the action caused
to give her a side-eye.
She was pale, frozen in ti and space as she stared ahead like she had seen sothing fresh out of a nightmare.
One... her heart was beating so loud and I knew it wasn’t due to fear, but sothing else.
Two... her nerves were spiking, sothing caused her to be alert, and yet her response remained on being rooted in place and holding
like her life depended on it.
"Business... Sherman, business" I said and Owen knew better than to question
further and I didn’t plan on saying anything else.
Knowing that is the case he nods. "We will talk in the eting, Devereaux"
He retreated with the two others who I recognize as Henry and Miles, they were shaking like little mice in my presence and Owen was too but he did a better job hiding. He has always had a bigger ego than his balls, and I was more than willing to crush it.
But my aggression hasn’t turned to the witch society... yet.
He’s just here to act like a leader... not that he can oppose , he doesn’t have the balls.
I watched as they disappeared into the covering of trees and I could finally see that Covenstead was not too far ahead.
Seeing they were gone I turned to my captive and I paused.
She’s frozen like a block of ice, her eyes still lingering on where Owen and the others left, her eyes wide and trembling. Her intake of breath is sharp and uneven.
Was she having a panic attack?
I observed, her hands once holding
now rubbing against the other, scratching enough to draw blood but it was not like her mind was tethered there, it was tethered sowhere else just like before, but now it was much worse, almost like she was reliving a nightmare.
"Emmaline" I began and she shook further and her intake of breath beca crazier until it was a full-blown panic attack.
She’s fucking having a panic attack!
"Emmaline"
Her breath was shuddering and it got louder, intensifying the shake of her body, her hands shaking uncontrollably, her scratches got worse, and blood oozing out. I forcibly grabbed her small hands to keep them from colliding and further hurting herself.
"Emmaline!"
She yanked her hands away from my hold but still didn’t see , backing away with her chest heaved until her back t the tree, sliding now to her butt with her knees pulled to her chest.
She’s not here, she’s lost in her head reliving sothing that got her shaken, she wasn’t like this when she was with
so what triggered it?
I followed her eyes, still locked on the place Owen and others left.
Because of them?
I take my eyes back to her trying to read her but it won’t do
any good, I need to find a way to get her grounded, dragged back from what is going on in that little head of hers.
So I approached her slowly. "Emmaline, can you hear ?" I said squatting in front of her.
Her eyes are hollow, lost and the lights are gone.
Her shaking intensified.
"Emmaline, listen to my voice"
Nothing.
"Emmaline"
Still nothing.
I gripped her jaw softly and pivoted it so that her gaze locked on mine.
"Listen to my voice"
She’s not... she’s still dragging in deep and not coming out of it.
"Emma!"
Instantly the light in her eyes ca back, and finally, she saw , but her shaking didn’t stop, her bottom lip quivering. And sothing happened, causing her vulnerability to shatter right in my face.
A tear slid down her cheek.
I didn’t know what to make of it and I didn’t know how to react, so I just kept my eyes on hers, making sure they were locked and keeping her attention instead of letting her drive deep in that little head of hers.
Too many emotions.
Too much pain.
All in one look.
Like a shell cracked, fractured into pieces, and for once I didn’t see the Countess who counters
with her witty and bratty attitude, I just saw so drowned in vulnerability and for so reason, it ticks
off.
Because I want that bratty side of her, her devious look, her smirks, and her annoying attitude of fighting
back when she knew it was pointless.
Because it’s better than this fractured girl.
"Where did you go?" I asked, my voice oddly soft for my liking. I can’t rember the ti I spoke this way to soone.
It wasn’t as if my harsh tone would help in this situation so I let it slide.
She closed her eyes as tears followed and she sighed shakily, and I rember she’s still shaken and not entirely brought back to reality.
What’s going on in her head?
"Focus on my voice"
Even though with her eyes closed I knew she still listened to .
"Focus"
Her chest rose and then she released a sharp breath that followed almost like a weight in her chest was slowly lifted.
But her body went limp so I moved so that she landed on my body, her petite fra enclosed in my arms.
She’s cold like the dead night. A cold being with a fractured heart.
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