Her immortal desire #seqeul to her fiery desire

Chapter 9

Fraya

“Get your f*****g hands off my daughter!” I growl before I reach out to grab her from him. He moves quickly, twisting her out of my reach.

“That is no way for a lady to talk, much less in front of her daughter.” The asshole says, his smirk still in place.

“Mommy?” My daughter asks, and my eyes quickly move to her face. Her arms are wrapped around the asshole's neck as if she is trying to hold on to him while fear shines in her eyes. That makes me stop trying to grab for her, my heart sinking a little bit.

“Please, please give me my daughter.” I say this time as I feel tears building in my eyes. The asshole looks behind me, and I am guessing his father gave him his approval, because he slowly turns around and hands my daughter to me. Relieve surges through me when she stretches her arms out to me and then wrapping them around my neck the second she is in my arms. I hold her close to me, putting my head in her hair and breathing her in as the tears slip free.

I take a moment to pull back from her, needing to make sure that she is alright and that she hasn’t been hurt. Evangeline seems to know that I needs this as she doesn’t say a word, just allows me to take her in. Her hair is longer, but clean an healthy, she looks like she has put on a little bit of weight, there is color in her cheeks and she has no bruises that I can see. Her eyes still looks bright and full of joy, making it a little bit easier to breathe.

“Are you feeling better now mommy?” She asks looking at me now with concerned eyes. I guess they told her that I was sick and that is why I haven’t been here for the past two months. I decided to play along, not wanting to see her upset.

“Yes baby, mommy is feeling a lot better.” I tell her with a small smile.

“Come see what Don Don has gotten me! You can play with me if you want to?” She asks, our moment forgotten as she pulls me to the corner of the large princess room. This room is even bigger than the one she has at home, fully decorated in pink. In the corner stands a very large doll house, a few dolls on the floor around it. “Uncle Don Don plays with me when the servant girls can’t.” She suddenly pulls me down so that she can whisper in my ear. “The servants here don’t have names, but I have given them names to use when they are here. Don Don says it must stay a secret.” She says and I am not sure if I should be happy that the asshole treats my daughter so well or hate him for making her attached to him when his father made it clear that Donahue will be the one to punish her for every foot I sit out of line.

 I sit on the floor next to her, keeping my eyes and attention on her even as I can feel the asshole's eyes on me, tracking my every move. Does he expect me to grab her and make a run for it? Does he think I am that stupid? “No, just that desperate.” His voice is right in my ears and I nearly jump out of my skin. Did I say that out loud? “No, but I can practically hear the questions on your face.” He says, still standing far too close. I can feel his breath on my cheek and I can’t stop the shiver running through my body.

“Move the out of my f*****g space or I will rip your f*****g tongue out.” I growl whisper, hoping it is soft enough for only him to hear.

“You wouldn’t dare, not when your daughter’s life is on the line.” My whole body stiffens, but he moves away from me before I can do anything reckless. He sits down next to Evangeline and she looks up at him with a bright smile as she hands him one of her dolls and then she turns back to me, stretching out her arm for me to take the doll.

“You can have Aunty Eleanor.” She says and for a moment I forget how to breathe. She doesn’t seem to see my struggles, but the asshole definitely notices as he lifts an eyebrow and smirks at me before turning towards my daughter as she talks about her dolls. I struggle to hear anything, fear taking over and clawing at my heart. I long for home, to go back to the night before the party, snuggled up in the arms of my mate as we laugh about our day. I wish I could hold my son to my chest and read through his stories with him. I wonder if I will ever see them again, if I will ever find a way home.

The smell of food brings me back to reality and my stomach grumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten anything for the past two months. I wonder what they did to keep me alive while I was unconscious for days on end, but I honestly don’t care at this moment. I am alive and that means that there is still a chance for us to make it home. I have to keep reminding myself of that.

A servant walks over to the three of us sitting in the corner of the room, carrying trays of food on silver plates. It takes everything in me to not grab the food with my hands and just shove it in my mouth. The servants place it on the round table not far from us and my mouth starts to water at the smell of meat and vegetables. I stand up at the same time as Evangeline and we both take a seat at the small table. I pick up my knife and fork, surprised that they allow me to even touch anything with a point, but with all the guards they probably know I won’t do anything and risk my daughter getting hurt in the process.

I want to cry when the first bite of meat touches my tongue. It tastes like lamb, but I don’t even know what kind of animals they have here. I try my best to keep the tears at bay, forcing myself to eat slowly and not show them how grateful I am for something as simple as food. The flavors of spices explode in my mouth and I can’t remember food ever tasting this good. I take a bite of what looks like mashed potatoes and it almost tastes the same, but it is fluffier that the cook at home has ever made it. I hate it, I hate that it is the best food I have ever eaten because I really don’t want to like anything about this place.

No one talks to me as I eat bite after bite, but Evangeline keeps talking about everything she and ‘Don Don’ Has done while I was ‘sick’ and how happy she is that I am feeling better now because I will be able to play with her. I try to focus on her rather than the food and all too soon, my plate is empty and I wish there was seconds. Just as the thought leaves me, Donahue moves his still full plate in front of me. I want to growl at him, tell him that I don’t want his pity or any show of kindness, but my stomach still hurts from hunger, so I swallow my pride and nod my thanks. He doesn’t even spare me a look, just keeps his focus on my daughter.