He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 238

"No," Ottilie answered without a second of hesitation.

Yorath's breath hitched, his grip on her hand tightening sharply.

"Will you marry me?"

"I won't."

The polished, gentlemanly facade shattered. His eyes flooded with bloodshot fury.

Pain flared up Ottilie's arm; it felt like he was crushing her bones to powder.

She wrenched her hand free and swung a brutal slap at his face.

"Don't touch me! You disgust me!"

She raised her hand to strike again, but Yorath caught her wrist mid-air.

She fought wildly, thrashing against his iron grip, but he held her fast.

Blinded by rage, she leaned forward and sank her teeth into his hand.

Her teeth tore through his skin like a jagged saw.

Yet Yorath's expression barely flickered. He watched her tear into him with numb, hollow eyes.

The physical pain blurred with the agony in his chest until the dam finally broke.

He clamped a hand around her jaw, forcing her to release her bite.

"Yorath, go to hell!"

The composed mask Ottilie wore every day completely dissolved.

Reckless and unhinged, she clawed at his face, dragging bloody streaks down his jawline and neck.

She pushed up onto her knees and threw her entire body weight at him.

Yorath had been perched on the edge of the mattress. He could have easily dodged her.

But terrified she would hit the floor too hard, he braced himself to catch her instead.

Her momentum sent them both toppling backward.

He lowered his head to kiss her.

Ottilie's entire body went rigid, tight as a drawn bowstring. Her eyes were bloodshot, radiating pure hostility.

The sweet nothings men whispered in bed were nothing but wind—here for a second, then gone forever.

He pressed kisses to her brow, her cheeks. "Relax. Let me feel how intoxicating you are."

He kissed her, and her eyes stayed wide open.

He undid her clothes, and her eyes stayed wide open.

She stared at him unblinking, looking exactly like a vengeful spirit dragged up from hell.

"Yorath, whatever anyone else does to me, I can take it. They're my enemies. It's survival of the fittest. But you... you were the man I loved most. We shared a bed for five years. And when I hit absolute rock bottom, you threw me away."

She reached up and wrapped her hands around his throat. Her hands were too small to actually choke him, so she dug her nails into his skin, leaving crescent-moon bloody divots.

"Yorath," she rasped, "the sun never shines inside St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Facility. Everyone there is completely unhinged. They can beat people, they can kill people, and no one cares. They formed gangs and beat me every single day. The doctors treated us like livestock. And because I had no family to check on me, I was their favorite lab rat. They strapped me to operating tables and injected me with God knows what..."

"I dissociated so hard I felt my soul leave my body. I watched myself lying there, paralyzed, like some animal... completely at their mercy."