Monsters in the Dark

by Winters, Pepper

She moaned as I wrapped an arm around her waist, trapping her against me. Already it was too hot beneath the covers but an atomic bomb would have to go off to tear me away.

  My legs twitched as sleepiness attacked me fast and strong. So much for reminding her who owned who. My libido was in a coma already—tugging me down fast with it.

  I yawned. “This. This is what I want for the rest of my life.”

  Tess linked her fingers with mine, resting them over her breast. Her ass pressed harder into my cock. My belly fluttered—my cock struggled to rise. But after everything I’d been through, it just wasn’t going to happen.

  Tonight wasn’t about sex or domination. Tonight was about giving and taking. Feeding and sowing. Reconnection with gentleness rather than pain.

  We’d both had enough.

  The only thing I was capable of was holding Tess while I healed. I’d hit my final limit.

  “You have me for the rest of your life, maître.” Tess snuggled closer, her body melting into mine.

  Her words were the last things I heard before succumbing to the deep chasm of sleep.

  I let go.

  I fell into the light.

  And this time, darkness didn’t claim me. This time, I soared into the clouds because I held an angel in my arms and she made me deserving.

  As long as I had Tess, I wouldn’t go to hell. She made me worthy. She made me better.

  I’d won.

  We’d won.

  We’d fought for our happily ever after. Lies had become truths. Tears had become smiles.

  Everything was as it should be.

  We deserved our triumphs.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tess

  My salvation

  My together

  Q left me when dawn arrived.

  Kissing my temple, he clambered sorely out of bed. “See you in a few hours, esclave.”

  I held onto his wrist, not wanting him to go. I couldn’t understand why one moment I was giddy with joy thinking of what today meant for us, then I wanted to throw up. I was nervous, excited, happy, freaking out.

  “You promise you’ll be waiting for me?” I didn’t understand my sudden insecurities. It just seemed like everything I’d ever wanted existed in a future I daren’t grasp. I didn’t want to think how close to perfection we were just in case it turned out to be fate’s cruel joke.

  Q bent over, his eyes tightening with pain thanks to his blue and black body. He stood naked, wearing his wounds with pride. The bandages on his legs stained with pinpricks of blood. “I’ll be the one sweating at the top of the aisle hoping to hell you haven’t changed your mind. Je vais t’épouser aujourd'hui, Tess. Pas de fuite.” I'm marrying you today, Tess. No running.

  My heart strummed. Before I could reply, he left, walking his fine butt out of my room. My eyes trailed after him, landing on his bruises. My stomach heaved with anger.

  Killing Lynx wasn’t enough for what Q endured. I loved Q more than life itself and I’d finally proven I deserved him. I’d accepted the feral part of myself and survived. I suffered no remorse, none. And I would do it all again if I had to.

  Q disappeared down the corridor. The next time I see him he’ll be mine for eternity.

  He’d be my husband.

  The nerves in my stomach switched to sublime happiness. Unstifled joy sprang me upward, hurling me out of bed to meet my future.

  I spent thirty minutes in the shower, giving myself no time restrictions to shave, primp, and prepare. The luxury of enjoying my own company with no dark thoughts ruining my happiness was priceless. I’d forgotten how it felt to be weightless—joyous.

  Suzette arrived at eight a.m. giving me just enough time to order room service of fresh fruit and an omelette, and douse myself on coffee. The closer we came to the ceremony the more my tummy churned. Nerves fluttered unhindered, slicking my palms, racing my heart.

  I wanted to be Q’s so badly—I couldn’t relax until it came true.

  Suzette came bearing gifts.

  Make up. Shoebox. Covered dress. And a bag that looked suspiciously like lingerie.

  “Morning. Hope you slept well.” She dumped the items on the bed, looking like the complete master of whatever she’d planned. Looking me up and down, she nodded. “Good to see you’re showered and fed. Two things I can scratch off my to-do list.”

  Two women with plaited black hair and sun-darkened skin appeared, looking to Suzette for guidance.

  Suzette grinned, waving them into the room and toward the dresser with its white lacquered wood and large ornate mirror.

  “We’ll set up everything over there.”

  I didn’t say a word—I didn’t think I was expected to as Suzette assembled order at the dressing table, plopping bottles, lining up mascaras and eye-shadow.

  Coming toward me, she grabbed my hand, marching me toward the chair. “Sit.”

  I descended on the soft periwinkle stool and looked at myself for the first time in forever.

  Oh, my God. Is that my reflection?

  I looked haggard. My hair hung damp around my shoulders, lifeless. My skin looked ashen and the shadows under my eyes showed just how much I’d been through in the past few days.

  But it was my gaze that scared me—that made my mouth hang open. I no longer recognised myself.

  The crescent moon had completely changed me.

  Gone was the softness—the innocence. I no longer looked like the insecure Australian girl I’d been. I’d stared death in the face; I’d stepped into the cloak of the grim reaper and stolen two lives willingly.

  The grey was tempered with hardness, the blue glittering with strength. I didn’t look weak or lost or afraid. I looked ruthless. My eyes were no longer one dimensional but hid strength of character, trials overcome, sorrow defeated, and horror tamed.

  I look like him.

  I clutched my heart, realizing what’d changed. I’d adopted the same chilly sharpness that both Q and Franco lived with. I’d embraced something that would never be changeable. I’d evolved into a woman who no one would deny belonged beside Q completely.

  Tears welled, turning my vision into a watery dream.

  “Aw, Tess. It’s okay.” Suzette’s arms wrapped around my neck from behind, her soft cheek pressing against mine.

  More tears fell but I wasn’t crying because of what I’d done. I cried because of what I’d become. I never thought I could be so strong, so self-assured—so…dangerous.

  I’m worthy.

  Finally—I was worthy. Not for Q or the abundant future he promised, but for myself. I felt worthy enough to be proud.

  Suzette’s eyes met mine in the mirror. “I know you killed to get him back. Franco told me a little about what happened.” She pecked my cheek before pulling away, gathering my hair with her feminine touch. “You saved him—just as much as he saved you. Maybe even more.”

  My life would never be the same. The chrysalis of the Tess I never thought I’d find finally cracked its final layer. I emerged into my new world wondrously happy, courageously strong, and deeply in love.

  “You’re different, Tess,” Suzette murmured. “Is that what you’re seeing, too?”

  I nodded, unable to believe the immense transformation.

  I shivered as Suzette’s fingernails dragged over my scalp. Her touch was soothing. “I’m happy for you, mon ami. I won’t lie and say I’ve been waiting for that closure to come to me.”

  Closure.

  That’s what it was.

  I didn’t have towers or gates barring bad memories because the memories were dealt with. I no longer segmented off my mind. Because everything was in its rightful place, and I just knew.

  Knew that this was my absolute home. My happy place. The epicentre of my soul.

  “You’re still struggling, Suzette?” I whispered, letting her busy herself with untangling my hair. Grabbing a brush from one of the drawers, Suzette proceeded to tame my curls, building the golden glow that’d been lost thanks to stress and lack o
f sleep.

  “I’m not struggling, exactly. I’ve put it all behind me. But I haven’t got to the point where I’m okay with it—you know?”

  I captured her hand, holding her still. Her knobbly fingers were brittle and arthritic from so many unnatural breaks at the sadistic whims of masters. So many trafficked women lived nightmarish existences. I’d survived and I would use my newfound strength to work beside Q. I would dedicate my life to the Feathers of Hope charity and try to give every broken woman a happy ending like mine.

  I placed my hands in my lap. “I understand completely. I was at that place when Q brought me back by giving me his pain. He’d fixed me, but there was still so much unresolved.”

  Suzette smiled. “Maybe, I’ll find someone to save me, too.”

  I shook my head. “Q didn’t save me—well, he did—but ultimately, he just showed me the way. He showed me I had the power to save myself. You have that power inside you, too. You just have to acknowledge it.”

  Tears wobbled in my eyes, overwhelmed with all that’d happened. “Thank you, Suzette. For everything.” Our gaze connected; I poured forth every gratitude. “You helped me when I first arrived. You gave me clues about who Q really was. You’re so much stronger than me in so many ways. I know you’ll get there—because you helped me do the same.”

  She continued to work on my curls. “You didn’t need me. You’re the strong one, Tess. But I’m so happy to have you in my life—happy to have a friend.” Her lips flitted into a sad smile. “And I do know what you mean. I sense it—inside. I’m getting there.”

  One of the island staff came closer. She had a pretty face with thick eyelashes and a diamond pierced through her nose. “Shall I begin, ma’am?”

  Suzette cleared her throat, dispelling our conversation. Her smile broadened, hiding the vulnerability in her eyes. “Yes. We don’t have much time.” Suzette pulled me backward, screeching the stool legs over the tiles, giving the girl room to kneel at my feet and place numerous tools, varnishes, and a foot spa beside me.

  The other staff member came forward with a small trolley, setting up her station by my left side to tend to my fingernails.

  “Wow, I’ve never been so pampered.” I sank my feet into the warm bath for my toes.

  The women worked in soft silence, transforming me from a girl who’d killed yesterday into a pure princess today.

  Never in my life had I bonded with girlfriends this way. I never owned nail varnishes or pretty things—my parents thought they were the devil’s tools. I’d never had a sleepover or done something drastic with my hair.

  My smile fell for what I’d missed out on, but I stopped the thought.

  It makes this all the more special. I was glad it was Suzette helping me get ready. It was fitting because she was my closest friend—living with us, looking after Q and me—family. She was family.

  I drifted in girly bliss. “You do know you’re going to spoil me. I’ll never want to do my own hair or nails again.”

  Suzette and the women giggled. “You’re supposed to be spoiled on your wedding day.” Suzette’s face scrunched in concentration, taking sections of my hair, pinning it in a haphazard way. “Besides, I’ve seen your capabilities with hairdressing and your version of tying it up is a boring ponytail.”

  Only because I’d never had anyone show me how to style. I had a feeling my days of jumpers and jeans were behind me.

  Slowly my tresses morphed from draping down my back to neatly secured in a loose chignon. I looked in the mirror, mesmerized as Suzette somehow preformed a miracle by making my hair stay up with no ties or over use of clips.

  My fingernails were wet with Love’s First Kiss pink nail varnish and I reached carefully to pat the thick French-inspired up do.

  Suzette swatted my hand away. “No touching. It’s up but a bit precarious, so be careful.”

  I frowned, tilting my head to admire it. I looked sophisticated and demure. Not exactly how I would’ve done it, but I was eternally grateful for Suzette’s help. “I’ll be dancing and spending the day in high humidity. Doesn’t it need to stay up without ruining your masterpiece?”

  Her lips curled into a smile. My heart stuttered at the flash of calculation in her eyes. What is she up to?

  “It doesn’t have to be up for long. Besides, let me worry about all of that.” With that cryptic comment, she turned to grab the packages from the bed. “Thank you, ladies. I can take it from here.”

  I stood, carefully stepping over the tiles, trying not to smudge my toenails. Suzette upended a bag onto the mattress.

  My stomach flipped. Littered on the white bedspread, looking sinful and entirely too kinky, was black, lacy lingerie. But it didn’t stop there. Black stockings with a garter belt, a delicate bow stitched into the sheer material, along with a black leather corset with blood-red velvet ties.

  My eyes flew to Suzette. “What is this?”

  She glowed. “I figure you’re going to be the virgin bride, dressed all in white, but the moment Q takes it off—he’ll find his esclave again. Don’t you want to wear it for him?”

  I picked up the boned corset, inspecting the intricate sparrows stitched into the leather. Tears pricked my eyes again at the direct symbolism that I was one of Q’s birds. The only one who stayed for him.

  My heart winged thinking of tonight. I couldn’t wait to have him in bed again.

  “It’s beyond beautiful. But won’t it show under the dress?”

  Suzette shook her head. “No. Leave all the worrying to me. It’s time to get you ready. We don’t have much time.” Shoving the gown from my shoulders, she demanded, “Strip. I need to add concealer to any bruises you still have and dress you in an outfit that’ll make any master hard.”

  “Your body is mine. Your pain is mine.” Q’s voice cut through my thoughts. What would he do when he saw the lingerie? Would he cut it off or leave it?

  Apprehension filled me. What if the sight triggered Q’s darkness? What if he won’t wait any longer? My back tensed, very aware of his innuendoes and veiled promises. Q would expect more from me tonight. It was our wedding night—he wanted to claim something he hadn’t claimed before.

  I swallowed hard. It was irrational to be so afraid, but I was. Nerves tripled my heartbeat.

  Suzette didn’t notice my silence. “I see the way he looks at you, Tess. He won’t be able to contain himself.”

  I laughed. Q containing himself? Never. He operated with passion and rage and dark energy. There would be no containing him—or denying what he wanted.

  But he’s hurt.

  My eyes widened. I didn’t need to be afraid of tonight. There was no way Q would be up for our usual sex. He was injured. I breathed a sigh of relief. “I doubt he’ll be reacting all that much, Suzette. He’s not exactly in a condition to attack me.”

  Suzette unthreaded the corset. Her eyes glinted with the same deviousness as before. “Whatever you say.”

  What the hell is that? My spine stiffened, sensing a hidden agenda. “What are you up to, Suzette?”

  Her lips spread into a wicked smile. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise—for both of you.” Twirling me around, she pressed the warm leather corset against my middle. “The first part is my gift to you. The second…” her voice trailed off. Her fingers tugged on the velvet stays, lacing me inside.

  “The second…” I prompted.

  Her voice was far away, seeing things I didn’t know. “The second part is for him. Purely for him.”

  Goosebumps spread over my skin. The thoughts I’d had of a traditional wedding, complete with rose petals and ring bearers, suddenly seemed like a fantastical illusion. Q had put Suzette in charge. He’d put a woman who’d lived with him for years, who’d lived through horror, in charge of a romantic event.

  Did she even know the meaning of romance? Had the word been beaten and raped out of her leaving her tainted toward fairy-tales?

  Trust her. Let her do this.

  Expelling a shaky breath, I w
hispered, “If it’s for him then I’m sure it will be amazing and he’ll love it.”

  A minute ticked past, silence heavy between us. She finished securing my corset, then hugged me fiercely. “Thank you for trusting me and not asking questions.”

  “Thank you for organising my wedding.”

  We shared a smile. I didn’t care what she’d planned. In a few short hours, I would be Mrs. Mercer and nothing could ruin my happiness.

  “Come on. Let’s finish. Can’t have Q waiting.” Suzette passed me the stockings.

  “You know him better than that, Suzette. He’d be down here dragging me over his shoulder if I’m a minute late.”

  Suzette laughed. “In that case—we better hurry.”

  The rest of the time flew—beautifying me for my nuptials.

  * * *

  My stomach rolled. I’m going to be sick.

  My lungs stuck together. I can’t breathe.

  My heart galloped. I’m getting married.

  Music drifted across the island, dipping and lilting with the Seychelles breeze. I strained to hear more—to count how many guests would witness my union to Q—to envision the type of ceremony Suzette had put together.

  Heading to a wedding that I hadn’t planned or had any idea of what would happen twisted my stomach, but excitement existed, too.

  I’m really doing this. I’m about to get married.

  Sparrows, finches, and doves lived in my ribcage, trapped tightly beneath a corset etched with their fellow kin. Their wings made me float across the patio next to the seahorse pool all the while tickling me with nervous feathers.

  I looked down at the white dress cocooning my body. Suzette had been elevated to goddess in my mind. She’d transformed me from lacklustre girl to flawless mannequin.

  The dress was a mixture of lace and silk and taffeta—all in different shades of white. My right shoulder was bare. My left shoulder was adorned with a white rosette draping down the front of the bodice with exquisite lace.

  My hips flared with a see-through organza train, the fabric whispering over the heaviness of silk. The elegance was perfect, the craftsmanship superb. And Suzette was right. Not one sign of the leather corset or lingerie I wore was visible.