; I wait for him to start his own beating on Vito, but nothing happens. Not a movement, not a word.
Except, for his eyes, that slide down to look at the floor instead of at me. It’s only for a split second, but I saw it and I know I saw it. So does he, because when he brings them back up to mine, he jumps forward.
“You are perfect, Aefre. Do not listen to anything that they say. I love you.” It’s desperate, and when he strokes my arm, it makes it worse.
“You agree with him, don’t you?” I say quietly, pulling my arm away from him forcibly and stumbling back. “Don’t you?” I repeat at volume.
“No, of course not,” he says quickly, but I can tell he is lying, because once again, he won’t look at me. “You are the love of my life, my wife, the mother of my child. You are nothing less than perfection.”
Just the same words but put in a different way.
The crushing disappointment that I have for my husband, the traitor, quickly turns to anger. A rage so blinding that I feel sick with it.
“Well, fuck you!” I scream at him. “Fuck all of you!”
I turn to leave, to storm off and actually leave, but Constantine stops me. Gripping my arm again.
“Aefre, my sweet…”
“Don’t!” I roar at him. “Let go of me.” I struggle in his grasp because I no longer have superior strength. I am once again weaker than him and that pisses me off even more. “I am leaving! See how broken you think I am when I am not here to fuck and treat like shit!” I screech in his face. It makes no sense, but I am past coherent thought. “And see how broken you think I am when I take your daughter with me!” I give him a triumphant look, knowing it will hurt him like he has hurt me.
I did not expect him to react by giving me a backhand across the face that snaps my neck back and hurts like fuck. I gasp, putting my hand up to my, no doubt, red cheek, giving him an accusing look.
“Threaten me again with Arathia and I will show you broken,” he seethes at me.
He is absolutely furious. His eyes are red, and his power is streaming from his hands. I’ll admit, I am terrified.
But through my terror, I have two thoughts. Firstly, how no one has come to my rescue, not even my sire; and secondly, I cannot take him, not now.
With my eyes pooled with tears, I do something so incredibly stupid, even though I don’t realize it at the time.
I use my Fae power to puffport myself away from Constantine, away from these traitors, away from this castle, and away from the wards that are protecting me–all of us-–from the dangers of the outside World.
Chapter 7
Ponte, Italy, January 2015 - Devon
He stares at the scene in front of him with shock. His…sire has just disappeared after telling them all to fuck off. He pushes down the dread he feels that she is no longer his sire. Not his true sire anyway. No, she is dead. He will never see Elizabeth again and he has no idea how to comprehend that. So, he pushes it away. It’s just too fucking difficult.
“What happened here?” he barks out. “Why did you threaten her?” he demands specifically of Constantine.
“She threatened me first,” Constantine grouses.
“Christ, man. How old are you?” Devon shouts at him. “She hurts you, so you have to hurt her back? Grow up! And go and find her…I-I can’t sense her.”
Constantine gives him a fierce stare, but he doesn’t back down. He isn’t afraid of this man. He is afraid for Lizzie. She looked so hurt and so devastated.
“What happened?” he asks again when nobody moves.
Frederick fills him in.
His stomach twists into a knot. “Broken? She might be a little…bent…but how dare you accuse her!” he shouts at Vito. “You know how sensitive she is.”
Vito scowls at him but doesn’t say a word.
“And you…” He points to Constantine contemptuously. “You agreed with him. You should know better than that.”
Devon isn’t surprised that Constantine doesn’t look abashed or ashamed of himself. He spins around to Frederick. “And you! I knew you were bad news!”