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“Death?”
“Yes?”
A tired smile eased across her face. “I would burn down the world for you.”
Ella’s words struck me, sending me off balance. I gripped the bathtub, staring at her as if she’d spoken another language. She had.
“You don’t know what you’re saying, little lamb.” I collected the cup she left at the side of the tub and gently tilted her head back. I scooped up the water and poured it down her dark locks.
“You would do the same for me,” she said, allowing me to shampoo her hair.
“I have already, but I would do it again.” She didn’t know I had a surprise waiting for her, but she would soon. Ella groaned as I massaged her scalp, the stress physically leaving her body.
“I—I …”
“We will talk later. Relax and let me take care of you.”
She nodded and closed her mouth.
Once she was clean and I had made sure that the surface cuts hadn’t been too deep, I dressed her in her favorite pajamas. I pulled her sheets and comforter down, and then she crawled into bed and burrowed beneath the blankets. Instead of leaving, I slipped in next to her. Whatever was different about her, I wasn’t willing to leave her that night.
Ella snuggled against me, pressing her ass against my cock. I stroked her hair, the sweet smell of her vanilla and peach calming me.
“Death?” She shifted her head on the pillow and looked over her shoulder, our gazes locking.
“Yes?”
“I know who you are,” she said in a whisper.
My hold tightened. I should have known, but I’d allowed this woman to break the fortress around my heart and let my guard down.
“And I love you,” she added.
Her confession should have sent me scrambling out of the bed, but instead, I found myself rooted in place.
“Say something, Sebastian. Talk to me.”
A jolt of pain surged through my mind as her words pierced through me. I grabbed my mask, ripped it off, and flung it across the room while I gritted my teeth. A shadow flickered through my mind's eye, something familiar but too far out of reach. Raw, pulsing fury throbbed through my veins as I glared at her.
"How dare you call me by another man's name?" I snarled.
She rolled over on her back, a show of submission. “I know you as two men. Death and Sebastian.” Her fingertips grazed my jawline, and I stilled. Her touch was gentle and loving. The last woman who had touched me that way had laid in a pool of blood on my kitchen floor. Horrible flashes assaulted my memory, and I winced.
“It’s okay. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe. What are you seeing?” Ella sat up and cupped my face. “I love you. I bleed for you. I cry for you. Everything I do is for you. Let me take your pain.”
An anguished cry reverberated through my body as I held the sides of my head. Sharp, excruciating knives stabbed my skull. “Stop!” I tumbled out of the bed, my knees smacking the hardwood floor.
“Sebastian, listen to me. It’s Ella. It’s okay. Can you hear me?”
She climbed off the mattress and kissed me, briefly soothing my mental anguish. Ella wrapped her arms around me and held me tightly.
“What happened, Sebastian?”
“You don’t want to know,” I cried. Grief and horror ripped me in half and stomped on me until I was a bloody mess.
“Death. It was a horrible situation, but you made it through. You just had to cope the best way that you could.” She rubbed my back, and the warmth of her hands on my bare skin pulled me to the present moment.
“What’s happening to me, little lamb?”
