Jealousy Turning Saints Into The Sea の小説・ストーリー

He stood in the center of Bella Vida Salon, surrounded by the scent of expensive oils and silver hair, feeling like a monster that had forgotten how to wear human skin. "I’m sorry, Isaac. That’s—I don't know where my head is." Santiago’s voice was a rough rasp. "I shifted into something irrational. Jealousy is a pathetic look for a man I just met yesterday." Isaac didn't stop sweeping. The rhythmic swish of the broom was the only sound. "Especially for a fake mate." "Fake. Right." Santiago's hands felt too large for his pockets. "No excuse for acting like a possessive prick. It's been years since I ran with anyone. I’m out of practice on what’s civil."

A mate, maybe even a child and a very happy me, but why was things turning out this way? Why does the moon goddess have to be so cruel?! It seemed like I had displeased the moon goddess in some way because at that moment, I felt something or someone grab onto the back of my dress. I stumbled backwards, a small gasp leaving my mouth as I twisted my head around to stare at who had caught me. “Did you really think you could run from us, you slut?” The warden snarled, his grip against the back of my dress tightened. The fabric clung tightly around my neck, making it hard to breathe. I tried to slap his hands away, forcing myself forward to see if the fabric might rip.

On the deck Helios’s golden light was getting brighter his eyes turning into two suns. "Brother, Sister " Valerius said, her eyes on the two Celestials. "You look so small. Time has not been kind to those who stayed in the light." With a flick of her scepter the Queen did not fire a cannon. She fired the sea. The water between our ships turned into black spears that shot out of the ocean really fast. "Get ready!" Captain Vane screamed. The Sea-Singer reacted fast. She raised her arms and a big wall of water rose to meet the spears. The impact was like a thousand windows breaking at the time. The spray was so strong it almost knocked me off the deck.

As Elena's yacht slowly drifted away into the darkness of the open sea, the silence on deck, permeated with the smell of gunpowder and sea salt, gave way to the roar of the engines. The guards were still on high alert, but I was blind to the world around me. The primal monster of jealousy surged through my veins with such ferocity that my earlier, cool, "strawberry juice" outburst was completely gone. My eyes throbbed with anger and that terrible indigestion.

Fool. Turning a hunter is madness. Turning this hunter borders on sacrilege. If Selene survives I've created an abomination that both factions will hunt on sight. If she dies I've broken laws than kingdoms for nothing more than arrogance dressed as hope. I stare at the statue of a saint missing half its face. "I should have let fate finish its work." The words sound like a confession. A faint scrape answers me. I turned Her fingers twitched. It is so slight that no human eye would catch it. A tiny tremor goes through the hand that is lying near the altar's edge. Then her fingers curl once against the stone as though she is grasping for a dream.

Horror and rage explode in my chest. “No!” I shout. I surge up from my chair, knocking it backward. “You lie! Get out of my head!” The room goes dead silent. All of them stare at me with wide eyes. Joseph reaches for me. Bernard stands up slowly. “Elias, what is happening?” Joseph asks. I don’t hear them at first. I point at the statue. “You will not speak those things. I cast you out by the blood of Christ!” The invisible hand strokes faster. I groan and double over, gripping the table. Holy oil spills from the vial as I fumble for it. I pour some on my head, rub it frantically over my face and neck. I flick the last holy water toward the statue.

Maybe saints didn’t live in statues, but in stubborn girls who sang lullabies to their own shadows. Thunder growled in the distance, the Saints’ answer to my retreat. But this time, the storm felt different—not an end, but a beginning. ******

I heard the jealousy in me crawl out slowly through my voice. He turned my face to look at me and then watched me in amusement before tracing his hands to my stomach and then into the skirt caressing my upper thighs. A moan escaped my lips and I bit my lower lips in an attempt to stop another from doing the same. My hands beside me gripped the wall, helping my shaky legs from giving up on me. "Baby girl, I can do whatever I want to cause I'm Saint," He said scornfully. "You can't do the same because I own you," He added. "I'm the only one that can make you feel this way."