“Oh!” she exclaimed, looking around. Her hair was a silver cloud around her face and her eyes were wild. “What…how…?”
“I’m not sure if it stopped because it sensed we were dry or because I touched the wall,” Rarev growled. “But look…”
He pointed to the wall he was touching, where the door had reappeared.
“God, let’s get out of here!” Emilia’s voice was ragged and her blue eyes were desperate—not that Rarev blamed her.
“Come on.” He pushed open the door, lifted her into his arms, and carried her back down the short hallway to the bed chamber.
He had been playing with the control before the Goddess spoke to him and it was currently set on a quiet scene—a forest at nightfall with snow softly falling down to coat the leaves and ground below. The center crystal panel, right in front of the bed, showed a flickering fire, as though they were camping out in the forest at night.
Rarev was glad the room was dim, lit only by the firelight, and the scene was a soothing one. It seemed to him that Emilia could use a bit of soothing.
Gently, he laid her, still naked on the bed. For a moment, she just stared at the ceiling, her eyes unreadable. Then she turned on her side and curled into a tight, fetal ball. Her shoulders hunched inward and then began to shake as low sobs were dragged from her, almost as though by force.
Rarev stared in concern, at a loss for a moment. The formidable Emilia Oxley, who had showed iron control from the moment he’d first met her, had finally begun to cry.
27
Em didn’t want to cry—she hated to cry in fact. But the events of the day had simply been too, too much. She’d started out with an angry mob in front of her house, then Rarev had broken in and taken her out through said mob, as they shouted filthy things at her. Then she’d witnessed an attack on the Earth and been told that she was expected to save it by pretending to be the Monstrum Kindred’s partner.
After agreeing to all that, she’d been taken to an alien planet and put through the Trial of Truth where she was forced to admit she had feelings for Rarev, then attacked by the monstrous octo-lobster-scorpion creature at dinner. Her wrist and forearm and breast still ached fiercely where its tentacles had stung her. And finally, to cap it all off, she’d nearly been drowned just attempting to take a bloody shower.
And don’t forget the Menopause hormones, whispered a little voice in her head. Adding them to everything else, I think you’re entitled to a bit of break down, Em, don’t you?
Em didn’t know if she was entitled or not, but it didn’t seem to matter because the breakdown was happening right here and now as she lay curled in a ball on the bed, sobbing as though her heart would break.
She felt a movement and the mattress dipped as someone large sat down beside her. It must be the Monstrum Commander. What did he want? Couldn’t he see she was crying and ought to be left alone to work through her ugly emotions in peace?
But apparently he had no intention of leaving her alone. Em felt something like warm velvet touch her skin and then rub slowly up and down her shaking shoulder.
Petting me, he thought. He’s petting me—stroking me like I would stroke a cat. Only he’s the cat.
It was a sort of role-reversal—she ought to laugh at it or at least shrug his hand off her arm. But Em found she couldn’t do either—the big Monstrum’s warm, velvety touch was incredibly soothing and his touch was tender but firm. There was kindness in the way he stroked her arm and shoulder and her bare back—a wish to help and to heal that somehow came through to her, though he said not a word.
After a moment, Em realized he was purring.
It was a low, rumbling sound—so soft she could barely hear it. She could feel it though. It was running down his arm and hand and into her body as he stroked her. And though he spoke not a word, somehow the rumbling vibration was more soothing than all the sweet nothings in the world.
Em sniffed and swiped at her eyes. She pushed her long, silver hair out of her face and turned her head to see that he was looking down at her as he sat on the bed beside her. There was an expression of concern in his golden eyes.
“What…what are you doing to me?” she managed to ask, though her voice came out hoarse and uneven and still full of tears.
“Helping you, I hope,” he murmured and the purring never stopped, even when he talked. “Emilia, let me hold you. I can tell how upset you are—I just want to help.”