The Little Dove #2 ✔️

75. Sacrifice Is Never Planned

CHAPTER 75: Sacrifice Is Never Planned

The shadows on the walls spoke deeper than any other when I stepped towards the small opening holding the pills that the children were forced to swallow, one blue one and two white ones, Edmund steps forward, "The blue one is used as a sleeper, the two white ones is counteract them, attempt to give children nightmares and survey how they approach the nightmare, whether they're strong enough or sink." He mutters, shoving it back down as Forthright steps around me and reaches inside, revealing a strip of paperwork on a clip. He looks through the names as I look up at Edmund.

I lower the small cup of pills, his silver eyes trail to mine. I search them, "They forced you to take these?" I whisper, slowly. He clenches his jaw, doesn't say a word as he slides his arm around my waist and pulls me a couple steps away from Forthright, who still searches the names, flicking his black eyes through. I give Edmund a long look, moving closer into him, his flimsy shirt didn't seem good enough in the cold atmosphere in the room, but he was burning almost.

He nods once, "A lot of medication was taken, different tranquillisers, simulators and lab work to make us more susceptible to what they wanted, to different orders. They tried to do that even now, it was working on Sampson, on Edison, even Christian. They couldn't find out why it wasn't working on me." He whispers, lowering his head closer to make certain Forthright wasn't listening as his sharp, yet tender silver eyes scorch my amethyst ones.

He slides his hand up, fingers trailing my cheekbone, I furrow my eyebrows, "What do you mean? If it has worked before? Has it?" I ask him, darting between his eyes.

"They couldn't direct my mind from you." He says, slowly.

I swallow, my face scrunching in pain, "What do you mean?" I whisper, almost painfully.

He slides his other hand, long fingers running through my hair, he tilts my head up higher, "It's why they branded me-I know you saw that, your eyes keep trying to look at my arm. What they were doing-yes, it's worked before, but all I had to do was think about you, about us. No matter what they did to me...they could never erase the greatest thing that has ever happened to me and that is you, Lemon. It's always been you." He murmurs, pulling himself even closer.

I lean up, sliding my arms carefully up his chest and around his neck, I sigh in defeat and take a deep breath, "You scare the absolute fuck out of me, and that bloody Will. What the bloody hell were you thinking?" I say, lowly. Narrowing my eyes to meet his slightly amused ones as his hands slides down lower against my lower back.

I tilt my head at his suggestive manner, he gives me a long look, "Thinking about you was all that helped me survive, Lemon." He murmurs, sliding closer.

I take another sharp inhale, "I'm glad you fought, but I know how hard you fight, Edmund. You wouldn't have gotten that mark if you faked being easily manipulated. The cuts, the bruises...I'm telling you, you're more stubborn than I am and at the current rate...babe, we'll be passing that on to our children." I mutter, shaking my head as I drop my temple against his chest.

He chuckles into my hair, "I love you." He says down to me, once again. A tender rumble in his chest vibrates against my head and I warm at the mere resemblance it has to a deep purr, I snuggle into my big lion more for that, inhaling his scent, even if it was mixed with sweat. Jus the feel of him was calming me down. I move my head, even with his hand on the back of it and press a soft kiss between his pecks.

"I love you." I murmur, looking up at him too when he trails his fingers along my chin and lifts my head up slowly, silver eyes glistening with a deeper, indecipherable feeling, even in his hold around me and the way he hunches those indescribably broad shoulders around me. I drowned in those moonlight eyes when he lowers his chapped lips to my soft ones and leaves a feather-like of a kiss against them. His were fuller, rougher and as was his callous hands, but that's what I found myself sinking into like Lemons in a heated tea. His lips move in a rhythm, not hungry and possessive as before, this time it was a slow process, a gradual push and pull between us, it moved me more than memory as I hold him, my fingers scrunching against his flimsy shirt.