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“Better?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“You did good today, little Snowflake.”
Her eyes darken, the first glimmer of anger since we left the bed evident. “Which part, Elijah? The part where I tried to get one of your men to help me leave? Or the bit when he almost raped me? Or how about when you forced me to kill him and then fucked me with a gun? Or could it be the part where I begged you not to come inside me and you did anyway?” The fire in her words would burn a lesser man, but she should know by now I’m not going to bow like every other man she’s been with. Snow pushes against my chest with closed fists, and this time I allow her out of my embrace, carefully lowering her to the ground. “You had no fucking right, Elijah. That’s not a decision you take out of someone’s hands. I’ve just lost my parents, everyday I’m here, I’m losing my life and my family, and any day now you’re going to force me to march down the aisle and become your wife. You should have given me this one choice.” Hot, angry tears roll down her cheeks and a ragged sob breaks from her throat, her chest heaving with the force of it.
Snow’s entire body trembles despite how warm the water is as her back hits the tiled wall. She wants to put distance between us, but I’m standing between her and the door.
I reach for her, unable to hold my protective instincts at bay despite the fact I’m the one who caused her this pain, but she shies away from my touch. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she snarls.
I almost snap back, almost revert to the cold, brutal man I’ve always been, but it won’t win me any favors with my Snowflake, and although it goes against everything I am, I have to try to be what she needs right now.
“Snow,” I say, my voice low and calm. “I’m sorry I’ve upset you, but you have to understand this is your life now. I know you’re still adjusting to the idea, but I’ve known this is where we were headed since the day we met. Everything that has come since then was merely a detour on our journey.”
She wraps her arms around herself as if the gesture can protect her from me and my words, but as I’ve tried to tell her over and over again, there isn’t a damn thing on this earth that can keep me away from her, and that’s a reality she needs to grasp sooner rather than later.
“I was only a teenager,” she yells. “How could you know I was the one you were meant to spend the rest of your fucking life with?” Her shouts bounce off the tiles and echo.
If I wasn’t already glad I gave Mrs. Chambers the day off because of the dead body in the hallway, I would be even more so right now. If she saw Snow like this, I have no doubt in my mind the older woman would be getting her the hell out of here, regardless of the consequences.
“Because I knew.” I shrug, taking a small step toward her. “I need you to breathe for me, little Snowflake. You’re going to hurt yourself, and I don’t accept anything hurting what belongs to me, including yourself.”
“I don’t really care what you want, Elijah,” she snaps. “I don’t even fucking care if you kill me at this point. Because death would be a kinder future than whatever you have planned for me.”
Her words are like a knife to the throat, the sharpness slicing into my skin and leaving a gaping wound in its path. She’s angry. I understand that, but I will not allow anyone, including her, to speak to me like this.
I prowl through the warm spray toward her, not stopping when she cowers against the wall, her body shaking like a leaf on a windy day. Snow is about to find out what happens when she doesn’t behave, and she’s not going to like it.
41
Snow
Anger flares in Elijah’s eyes as he stalks toward me, the monster the world sees dancing at the edge and threatening to consume me.
But he’s not the only one with fury beating through his veins. I’ve never been angrier than I am right now, because not only has Elijah taken everything for me, but he also now thinks he has the monopoly over my body as well. I don’t fucking think so.
His body is imposing as he towers over me. His hard lines and menacing tattoos cause my body to tremble despite itself. I don’t want him to see my weakness, but he sees everything.
Elijah has been watching me for a decade, and I suspect there isn’t a thing I could get past him.
When his hand lifts toward my face, I can’t help but flinch, my heart lurching into my throat at the motion. His arm freezes in midair, horror crossing the moss green of his eyes.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Elijah look so… hurt. That’s the only word I can come up with to describe the way he’s staring at me.
We stare at each other for long moments, neither of us moving a muscle, and then he’s surrounding me.
His body is imposing as it envelops mine in his warmth. The moment his arms wrap around me, everything I’ve been trying to hide from him, all the emotions I’ve been stamping down, it all breaks from my chest at once and a painful sob tears from my throat.
Elijah lifts one of his hands to the back of my head and holds it to his chest. The water beats down on our skin, the combination of his warmth and the steam makes it hard to pull in a breath, but I’m not willing to drag myself away from the comfort he’s providing me.
As if he can tell I’m overheating, he reaches for the faucet without a word and shuts off the spray.
He keeps one arm wrapped around me, and reaches for a towel, folding it around my shoulder and gently patting the droplets from my skin.
His silence is unsettling. I’ve spent my entire life around men like Elijah, and I know the quiet never means anything good. The tension in his chest and shoulders vibrates through his body, but his touch is nothing but gentle, despite it being at complete odds with his nature.
He dries me without a word, using one hand to quickly pat some of the water from his naked body before lifting my towel-covered body from the cool tiles and carrying me straight through the room.
