When things get rough

Daemon is looking out into the dark vastness of the sky outside his tower, the Druft tower that he inherited from his late father. It’s already midnight, a little too late from his usual routine of going home. That’s out of his character, to deviate from his habits for one reason. He’s hesitating to come home because of Devon.

It might be a stretch but he can’t stand staring right into her eyes anymore for fear that she’ll read right into his thoughts. What happened between them that night shouldn’t have happened in the first place. He was just seduced by her scent and he let longing take over his mind. And when she told him a piece of her memory, hell unleashed inside him.

She saw Devon again wriggling in agony underneath him while he took her savagely. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of the cold gust of wind on his face.

Would he let pain control him again?

A pair of slender arms hugged him from behind. Maddy rested her chin on his shoulder and blew on his ear.

“You’re lost in your thoughts again, Dae. What are you thinking?”

Freeing himself from her grip, he went back into his chair and began fixing the papers.

“I’m going home. If you need anything, just ask Liam. He’s working overtime.”

Crossing her arms on her chest, she walked languidly to his side and started massaging his shoulders sensually. “You know I don’t have to ask him anything. I can do it on my own. I can manage. I can even help you.”

Daemon grinned before yanking her hands away from him. “You’re overestimating yourself again, woman. Maddy, don’t let your thoughts override your reality.”

He stood up and gathered the things to the attaché case and then checked his gun on the holster if it’s loaded.

“Can’t you just spend the night with me for old times’ sake? What do you think?”

He shook his head and turned off the lights in the office and walked out of the door with Maddy following close behind him.

“I’m the only woman who can understand you, who can tolerate you, who can handle you. You’re so much like me, Daemon. I hope you remember that. When your wife left you, I was there on your side. When your fa-”

He looked at her sharply, not letting her finish her sentence. “Go home to your husband Maddy because I’m going home to my wife.”

She bit her lower lip but still raised her face at him. “You’re going back to me, Daemon. In the end, you’ll find your way back to me.”

The elevator door opened and he hopped in. Daemon stared at Maddy emptily while the doors were closing. He can never give her what she wanted from the very start. He’s just not capable anymore.

Devon is tossing on the bed. Her teeth are clenched and her whole body is drenched with sweat. She’s gasping for breath while clawing the blanket excessively moaning in pain.

"You are going to marry Joffrey next month, Devon. The families have already talked and planned the wedding months ago. Why the sudden disagreement, dear? You said yes a week ago."

Devon just looked sadly at her snow-paled mother from her pink bed and shook her head in defiance. She agreed then because her father forced and threatened her that he would kill her best friend but now that Ariane is dead, there's no enough reason for her to blindly follow them.

"Mom, you know exactly why. I had no choice. Dad squeezed the hell out of me. He would kill Ariane!"

Devon groaned in pain as her head started throbbing.

"He's too old for me, dad. He disgusts me as a man. It's like I'm just a prey for him. And I don't love him or like him either. Dad, please. I can't do this. I will never be happy with him in my entire life!"

"Being happy is not your choice, Devon. You are reared into this world to be my daughter and the only thing you are allowed to be useful of is to produce an heir. An heir that will inherit all of our empire. You know your brothers are not capable of having their own children. Now be a good girl and collect your husband tonight."

She fell asleep but was soon awakened by gunshots not long after. Everything happened in a blitz.

“Daemon,” she silently called while hugging Emily and bracing for the impact.

“My baby! Emily!”

She woke up suddenly with a racing heart and a mouth and nose chasing for air. The dream felt so real as if it really happened to her.

Was it just a dream or was it part of her memory? But the emptiness felt too real. The anguish she felt coursing through her veins is genuine.

Wiping her tears and sweat away, she tried to stand up but her legs felt like jellies so she had to stay seated. She doesn’t have the energy. Her senses were not working properly. It seemed like she was still inside the car, bathing with blood, panicking because she could no longer feel her baby in her arms.

“Emily,” she cried out while hugging a pillow. Her lovely scent, her soft skin, her cooing. She wanted to see her again, to hold her in her arms again, and to be with her again. “Where are you, my baby?”

A knock on the door stopped her from crying. And when the door opened revealing Daemon on, she broke into tears again. Their eyes met.

“Daemon…”

He let go of the attaché case on his hand and ran to her side taking her into his warm embrace.

“I had a really bad dream,” she told him and snuggled closer to his warmth to warm her cold hands and heart.

“What happened? Was it a nightmare?” he asked, his voice worried.

She nodded, her tears streaming down in buckets. “Just hold me. Just hold me, please.”

He did what she told him. He held her dearly, caressing her back to assure her of his presence. Little by little, she relaxed, her breathing became normal gradually. She feels both secure and in danger in the arms of the same man.