Page 16 of Realm of the Wicked

It wasn’t enough for me to stand back and watch from afar. I’d crept closer, telling myself it was research. Research for what, I couldn’t tell you, because there was no way this woman was going to end up in the clutches of Hell.

Not just because of how good she was, but because if I had a say in it, I’d never allow her to fall so deep. I’d pull out every favor in the book to protect her from Hell.

The closer I got, and the more I watched, the more I found myself… compelled. Obsessive, you might say. I preferred protective myself.

I would always protect her. Or so I thought.

I pressed against the wall outside of her room and leaned my head against it, bravado finally failing. For some reason, I found it more difficult to maintain my mask around Stella.

I had told myself I would protect her. And now she was here. Desperate to know why, and what was I supposed to tell her?

Ah, yes, I brought you to my home because I couldn’t bear to see the person you’d become if your sister died, so I offered you an out and you took it, so you really only have yourself to blame.

Sex slave. She’d asked me if I brought her here to be my sex slave. If it wasn’t so heartbreaking, I’d laugh at the ridiculousness of it. I clenched my fist, watching small tendrils of smoke whisper out. From down the hall, Luna slunk toward me, curling up at my feet with an annoyed huff.

As maddening as my feelings were for Stella, and as much as every bone and cell in my body screamed out to touch her, to claim her, to make her mine in every aspect that mattered, that could never be.

Because to save her soul, I had to put what was left of my own in jeopardy. She was a liability for me. A weakness. One my enemies would exploit all too quickly given half a chance.

So I’d save her from a lifetime in Hell. I’d keep her with me, safe. And I’d torture myself for eternity knowing just how close she was without ever being able to be as close as I truly wanted.

I groaned, slamming my head against the wall as quietly as I could. The last thing I needed was to disturb Stella, have her come running out of her room only to find me stood five feet away from where I left her. That would only add to the impression she had of me, I was sure.

No. I needed to keep my mask in place. I would keep her at arm’s length, where we would both be safer. Even if it chipped off another tiny piece of my soul each time I tore my hands away from her. The smoke fizzled out as I turned my emotions off.

I’d have to ask Agatha to check on her tomorrow. I didn’t trust Stella when she said she was fine. When I’d picked her up off the floor, she’d felt so much more fragile than she looked at first sight. I could only imagine what the last few years had done to her, both physically and mentally. Throwing myself into the puzzle would only make things worse.

Stella was off limits. I’d done my job and she was safe. Nothing would touch her so long as she was within the walls of my home – not even me.

As much as she seemed to believe me when I said I wouldn’t hurt her, I was far more dangerous for reasons she couldn’t even fathom. I’d keep her safe, and I’d stay away, even if it killed me to do so.

Stella’s safety was my number-one priority. I meant nothing. But Stella? She had a chance.

I sat down against the wall and told myself I’d just stay outside her room until she fell asleep, but the light pooling out beneath her bedroom door had long since turned off. I encouraged the fire in her room to burn brighter, warmer, to keep her content all night long.

Five more minutes, I told myself.

Five more minutes.

Five more minutes.

* * *

Eventually, the full dark of the night sky began to lighten, giving way to the gray fog of early morning, and I couldn’t feel my legs. At some point, Luna left, presumably to chase the rabbits that frequented the gardens. I rose to my feet, once more tucking my heart away behind the glass cage it had sat in for years and years, and left Stella’s room behind me.

I knew I was doing the right thing.

Another part of me screamed it was anything but.

I grimaced, stretching my legs out the best I could as I staggered down the hall toward the kitchen. After spending all night in front of Stella’s door, I needed tea, and I needed tea now.

It was ironic how I’d once been impressed by my decaying estate. The rich wood paneling meeting the detailed wallpaper, lined with dramatic portraits seemed like something far finer than I deserved, no matter the circumstance. But eventually, I realized how hollow it all was. Window dressing. At some point, I’d taken down the paintings, hung up my own I’d found amongst my trips to the human realm.

Beaches. Sunsets. Forests. Things without boundaries, wild and free.

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen wasn’t empty. Agatha was already up, tidying up the already spotless kitchen, the kettle whistling from the stovetop. She always seemed to know when I needed tea, even without magic.

She turned to face me when the door swung open, dishrag in hand, one gray eyebrow stretched toward the sky. The yellow walls shone in the dawn light, the brightest room in the house by far, except for maybe Stella’s. Agatha demanded complete control of the kitchen, and I gave it, all too happy to hand over the reins.