Free Web NovelChapter 211: No One Touches What’s Mine.
Faye’s POV
I asked Princess what was happening, why she had such a long face. She just stood up from her chair and told me not to come out no matter what happened. I was to stay in the nursery room... and then she left. Her voice had dropped into this heavy, serious tone that instantly made my stomach drop.
I didn’t understand what was going on. She was about to make me her emergency contact, then suddenly said something bad was happening. I wanted to follow her. I felt uneasy, a terrible gut feeling flaring up instantly, but the commanding tone in her voice made me obey.
It felt as if a spell had been cast on me, the same feeling I had when I tried to escape Helen’s mansion. I would try to pass the doorway, but no matter how hard I pushed my leg forward, I just couldn’t. My body refused to listen to my brain, my crocs gluing themselves right to the floorboards as if the words she spoke were a physical wall blocking the exit.
Time passed, and I kept pacing around the nursery room, one hand resting on my bump as my heart raced with worry. The room felt incredibly small, the silence pressing in on my ears. I checked my phone, my thumb shaking against the screen. It was 2:40 a.m.
Princess had left 20 minutes ago and still wasn’t back. Every second felt like an hour, the dread building up in my throat until I could barely swallow.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my chest.
"Ahh!" I screamed, almost collapsing to the ground. I grabbed my shirt right over my sternum, my knees buckling as the agony ripped through me. It felt like my heart had been ripped out... but it was still intact. Something was wrong, and panic instantly consumed me. I tried calming myself down, taking deep, ragged breaths, but all I wanted was to leave the room and check if my girlfriend was okay. The phantom pain was so intense it made my eyes water, a cold sweat breaking out across my neck.
I stood at the door, trying to break Princess’s order. I wouldn’t let her words pin me down. No, I wouldn’t. I gripped the frame, forcing my muscles to tense, fighting against the invisible restraint holding me back.
I concentrated harder. I pushed all my weight forward, fighting the command with everything I had. freeωebnovēl.c૦m
Then I felt something switch off. A sudden snap echoed in my mind, the heavy pressure locking my limbs in place instantly vanishing.
Right after the intense pain in my chest, I grabbed the doorknob and twisted it open. I took a step forward, my foot finally crossing the threshold.
I was finally out of the nursery room and back inside our bedroom.
Then I felt the connection again, like the switch had finally turned back on, though unstable. It flickered in my mind like a dying lightbulb, weak and buzzing. I could hear grunting coming from the bar, muffled voices and heavy breathing cutting through the quiet house.
I left the room and headed toward the bar, my feet moving down the hallway as fast as they could carry me.
The moment I stepped inside, I saw Sir Richard pinning Princess down against the couch while she fought against his grip. Malo was beside them, helping her with an inhaler. It was the same one I always saw Princess use whenever her rut acted up, but why was Sir Richard restraining her? She was thrashing wildly, her limbs twitching as they tried to keep her still.
My eyes shifted to Beam.
She looked like someone who had been dragged through a bloody battlefield. She reeked of blood, the sharp, metallic scent hitting my nose instantly, and I could smell that it was still dripping from her wounds, soaking right through her clothes.
"What the fuck is happening here?!" I shouted the moment Sir Richard released his grip on Princess. My voice rang out through the bar, raw and furious.
Everyone flinched and turned toward me, their eyes wide as they caught sight of me standing in the doorway.
I rushed over to Princess and slowly bent down to touch her face. Her skin was cold, a frightening chill that made my breath hitch, but faint warmth was slowly returning, creeping back into her cheeks bit by bit. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing, her chest rising and falling in shallow, shaky movements.
My hands shook as I touched her. Fear was written all over my face, my vision tunneling as I focused entirely on her limp form.
"What are you doing to her?" I cried out after noticing her chest soaked in blood. I knew it was blood. There were no open wounds anymore, the skin smooth beneath the tears in her shirt, but the scent told me everything. It wasn’t paint stains... it was her blood. The thick, dark smell filled my lungs, making my head spin.
"We were just trying to help," Sir Richard said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder to try and steady me. "She’s better now."
"What the fuck happened to her? W-why is she like this? And why is Beam bleeding too? What happened down there?" I cried, resting my head against Princess’s body, my tears soaking into her ruined clothes. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
I hated this.
I hated seeing the people I cared about in pain.
I hated seeing Princess in pain.
It brought back the memory of when Yuki snapped Princess’s neck and left her unconscious. I remembered thinking I was going to lose her, even though I knew snapping someone’s neck wouldn’t kill them. The same terrifying helplessness washed over me, choking me.
I placed my hand against her chest, trying to feel her heartbeat. A weak, irregular thud finally bumped against my palm. Then I carefully sat her upright, only to realize her back was soaked in her own blood.
Even though the wounds had already healed, the skin completely closed over, I knew exactly what had happened.
Someone had ripped her heart out.
Princess had been dead for minutes.
That explained the sharp pain I felt earlier. My mate had been in danger, and that was the signal.
I felt it. The bond had practically screamed in my chest, tearing at my own insides when hers failed.
As Princess rested against my shoulder, her weight heavy and warm now, I folded my hands tightly. I could feel my knuckles clenching hard enough to crack, the bones popping in the quiet room, ready to hunt down the person who had the audacity to touch my girlfriend. A dark, boiling rage replaced the fear, flooding my veins with pure adrenaline.
No one... absolutely no one, is allowed to lay a fucking finger on her.
No one touches what’s mine.
"Who fucking did this?" I growled, my voice dropping into a dangerous, low pitch that vibrated in my throat. "I’m going to punch a hole through their fucking heart."
