Right before I blacked out, I felt a warm, solid embrace.
Ciel’s voice brushed my ear, low and rough. “Idiot.”
+25 Bonus
When I came to, it was already dark. My shoulder was cleaned, wrapped tight in thick bandages.
I sat up, scanning the room, and spotted Ciel in the hall, a line of people kneeling before him.
One of his men was shaking so hard he looked ready to fall over. “Mr. Clementine, you said you just wanted to scare your wife so
she’d back off. We didn’t think she’d actually run in-”
Ciel spun a dagger between his fingers, his voice icy. “Do it yourself.”
The blade clattered to the floor at the man’s knees.
He didn’t argue. Jaw tight, he picked it up and, eyes squeezed shut, drove it into his own left shoulder–the same spot I’d been
shot.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but something strange stirred in me.
Was he… actually standing up for me?
That night, thunder cracked the sky wide open.
I jolted awake to shattering glass and a furious shout.
In the study, Ciel sat slumped on the floor, shards of glass digging into his palm. Blood ran down his fingers.
“Stay back!”
The second our eyes met, his expression iced over. I froze, but the sweat on his forehead gave him away.
Lightning flashed again. He squeezed his eyes shut, teeth grinding. “Seeing me like this–does it make you proud?”
It clicked–thunderstorms freaked him out. I wasn’t stupid enough to say it. I grabbed the med kit and crossed the room.
His hand clamped around my wrist, eyes shot red. “Get out.”
I didn’t move. Just grabbed the alcohol and poured it over his palm.
“You’re my husband. You’re hurt. I’m fixing it.”
He hissed, but the edge in his gaze dulled.
I leaned in, working the tweezers, pulling the glass out one shard at a time.
***
1/2
Chapter 7
Watching Vivienne work, Ciel’s glare slowly eased.
She didn’t notice her sleepwear strap sliding off her shoulder, the thick bandages showing.
+25 Bonus
He remembered her stepping in front of him, taking the bullet meant for him. His throat tightened. “Why did you save me?”
Vivienne looked up, confused.
“If I died, you’d be free. So why take a bullet for me?”
He’d been the unwanted bastard from day one. His mother killed herself at the family gates just to force his father to acknowledge him.
When he was seven, she died on a stormy night, whispering with her last breath, “Ciel, never love anyone. The moment you love,
you hand them your weakness. And they will destroy you.”
Even after she went cold, his father didn’t open the door.
He hated his father. But he hated his mother more–how could she love someone enough to throw away her life?
Yet Vivienne had risked hers for him.
“I told you,” she said quietly. “I’ll play the good wife. That includes protecting you.”
Thunder cracked outside. Ciel curled in on himself, tension obvious.
This time, Vivienne pulled him into her arms before he could fight it.
Her warmth, her heartbeat against his ear-
For the first time since his mother’s death, Ciel closed his eyes and actually slept.
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