The Sacrifice: Fallen | Loki | Book 2

Chapter 18: Illusion

(Caroline's P.O.V.)

Once you go there, to an intimacy almost too painful to feel, it was hard to feel hatred. Practically impossible. Loki and I, our relationship had always been so fucked up. We didn't hate each other, not at all. He felt undeniably drawn to me, he called it love. What was love, really? Was it feeling so strongly for someone, putting their happiness above yours, unconditionally?

In that case, I couldn't tell for sure. It was just as legitimate to call it love, as calling it a toxic obsession. But that would've been too easy. As for my feelings, well, Loki and Tom started out as the same person. It was Tom's pure, unscarred self which drew me to him, he was my save haven. Loki had experienced all the ugliness and horror of this universe, he was affected and tainted by it. He was angry, unpredictable, and unscrupulous.

But when he held me like he did that night, it changes everything. You can't experience that, and still loathe him. For the first time, I actually saw him vulnerable. So there, amidst the silky sheets, with skin kissing skin, I understood. It was all a facade, to protect a man starved of affection and hungry for tenderness. There was no play, no deceit, it was raw and real.

The first time he tried transforming me, I had thought he had wanted to rape me. I imagined it violent and painful and horrible. Loki was nothing like that, he didn't love like that. His touch was incredibly tender, savoring, almost worshipping. I was a goddess then, too - I felt like I never felt before. The sensation was beyond everything a human could have endured, intense and not from this world. I trailed my fingers over his scars - spiritually and physically. He needed it so bad, it broke my heart.

And then, in the middle of the night, out of breath in the aftermath of ecstasy, he whispered to me.

"Tell me you love me." Loki breathed against my forehead as I lay in his arms. "Not because of my blood in yours, or illusion, or guilt. Tell me you love me for no more but myself."

A choice between Tom and Loki was futile. It would always be Tom, despite my undeniable love for Loki. Tom had understood my mind, Loki took over my mind. It was intense for sure, and pleasurable as well, but it was unhealthy. And who could teach this thousands of years old god the real laws of love? I was too inexperienced myself.

"I love you, Loki."

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It went on like this for weeks, in constant change. There were evenings, when we sat beside each other, warmed by a fire, talking. I saw it in his eyes how much it meant to him, Loki became an entirely different person when he told me things and I actually listened, without judgement. His eyes shone brighter when we were like this, only outshone by when my lips where on his.

I listened a lot, learnt things about him which made my heart ache with compassion or burn with anger. Other times, and these times dominated, I didn't talk to him at all. I was very much different from before he –

The sole thought was unbearable. Actually becoming aware of my situation, of what had happened to me and the one I loved, whose name was so painful to say, I couldn't. Many panic attacks had come creeping up on me, and I had suppressed them all, by simply not feeling at all. I pushed my demons into a remote corner of my brain, violently and painfully, and locked the door. I needed to cope, to be there for myself – if not for myself, then maybe for this little one.

It never changed, it was always like that. The only change I had known then was physical, it was undeniable. I felt it long before human me would've ever known. Loki, attentive and intelligent as he was, noticed my pattern, but he didn't understand how it felt. Or perhaps he did, for pain was his old friend, but he lived in denial of it. He would've had to admit doing me wrong, and he couldn't ruin his triumph now that he finally had me. Yes, I believed deep down he knew exactly how I felt, and why.