Under the vampire Lord's protection-Chapter 549: The errors of the past

"Good morning," Atticus’ voice, despite being of the comforting kind in its depth, still rang like thorny vines against Arabella’s eardrums.

The young woman straightened to a sitting position, wincing as the cuts on her back rubbed the sheets beneath them.

Not calm but defeated... Arabella had gotten to a stage of mind numbness that left very little to be reflected on her face.

Her hand went over to her uncollared neck, but aside from her eyes widening very momentarily, she made not another peep.

"I took the liberty of removing it again," the General sat at the edge of the bed, facing a well garnished breakfast table, "I don’t want to see it on you,"

Arabella cleared her throat very sheepishly before finally daring to say something, "Would you please put it back on before leaving me, sir?"

In reply, the man halted all movement, and just turned his head back, the glare on him not so threatening but... A bit dubious.

Was he going to strike? Yell at her?

Well, if yes, what did it matter anymore? In that place, they were going to do to her what they wanted and that was that.

"Was that the reason they gave for lashing you?" he asked.

"She gave that reason for the slaps and kicks," her hand instinctively traveled up, cupping her bruised cheek, "Unless you want me to receive such treatment,"

"I do not," he declared simply.

Eyes on her still covered lap, Arabella did not move, aside from breathing. That was until a cool breeze slipped through the window and grazed her skin, prompting her to rub her own arms as the hairs on her body stood up.

"Are you cold?"

She merely nodded without looking up from her lap.

"Come closer," he ordered.

The young woman pushed the sheets off her still exposed body and scooted forward to sit next to him, only flinching when he stood so suddenly to reach for the nearest cloak.

"I was thinking a full gown would do it, but if you claim they punish you for such things then you may don this cloak when in my company," he said while wrapping her shoulders in the fabric, "Carry no weight over it. It’ll all end soon,"

That got her to look him in the eyes. What was that supposed to mean? What sort of end could he have been speaking about?

But Atticus did not elaborate and instead, after caressing her cheek very lightly with the back of his index, he picked a small bit of cheese from the table and brought it to her lips.

"Take a bite,"

She did not argue and opened her mouth, allowing her teeth to work.

The stinging that coursed her jaws did not burn as much as the lacerations on her back, but it did cause her to squeeze her eyes shut momentarily.

"Did your former husband feed you like so?" he asked, his voice a lot tamer than before.

Noting how his eyes watched unblinkingly as she chewed was uncanny to say the least. Silas did sit with her while she ate but never fed her with his own hands.

"No," she murmured after swallowing her first bite.

The triumphant smirk that decorated his face after the answer was just as unsettling as his questions about Silas.

It was as though feeding one’s partner by hand was a requirement... A solid and irrefutable proof of love.

The man was still competing with another he believed had become the shadow of a ghost in her life.

She knew better than to think Silas was a figment of the past to be left behind, but Atticus did not.

"Eat more of it," he pressed the piece against her lips.

As she chewed, his other hand went around her body, under her arm and then through the cloak right to her breasts, gently squeezing at them.

The action wrenched a jolt out of her, but not as violent as they used to be.

"Focus on your breathing and chewing. Let me take care of everything else," he grasped her nipple between two fingers and played with it.

Arabella obeyed and clutched her own hands together on her lap.

"Did he worship and give your body attention the way I do?" he whispered.

"He did," she winced.

Atticus retrieved his hand and turned back to the table, "Well, in my company, you are free to eat whatever you wish,"

"Thank you," was all she could offer in response.

"From what I understand, you do a lot of reading," after a short pause, he continued, "If I may ask, what is it you prefer reading about,"

If he may ask, huh? Well, he just did...

"History is my favorite subject matter to read about," her hand, still hesitant, extant towards the rich dish of plump grapes.

"Why is that?"

Her shoulder gave a little shrug, "There is something about the tales of the past that I find fascinating,"

"Do you perhaps fancy the idea of living in the past?" he poured himself a glass of juice.

"Not in the slightest," she shook her head, "But I find that if one kept a paper trail of the past, they might learn the patterns and start predicting the future itself,"

His hand froze for a bit, his eyes flickering in her direction. Even then, however, the young woman did not budge or react at all. Arabella merely chewed on her grape and swallowed it.

"And what future do you predict for us then?" he dragged some letters along while asking that question.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she stopped all doings to look at him, "Us?"

"Yes, us. The two of us and all of us as a species,"

She didn’t even blink, "As a species, I believe that we are doomed to repeat the errors of our ancestors until we learn. As for the two of us well, I believe that I have no other choice but to obey and obey I will until death claims my soul if I must,"

Atticus put down the glass that was in his hand and just stared at it, the veins beneath his skin becoming more and more visible as he pressed on the thing.

Was he going to hit her? Perhaps threaten to hurt her family again?

Come to think of it, he never once, since they had met, made a mention of her family.