Chapter 8 Chapter 8 The Night He Showed No Mercy

A raging fever of 103.1°F, and Jareth had the heartless nerve to forbid anyone from calling a doctor or even looking after her. He just threw Celestia on the bed and left her there like she was nothing-left to fend for herself.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden hue over the cold, indifferent room.

Celestia slowly opened her heavy eyelids. The moment her eyes opened, everything spun wildly. Her head felt like it was being crushed under a ton of bricks, her whole body floating in a warped haze where she couldn't even tell if she was dreaming or awake.

"You're awake?" A cold, emotionless voice broke the quiet. A tall figure appeared in her blurry vision.

With great effort, Celestia lifted her drooping eyelids and stared weakly at Jareth's face twisted in a mocking smile. As the memories of what happened before she passed out hit her, rage rushed up in her chest.

Digging deep for what little strength she had left, she propped herself up and croaked out, "Why...? Why would you do this to me?" Her voice was hoarse, but each word was thick with pain. What had she done to deserve this cruelty?

Jareth looked down at her pale face without a trace of warmth in his eyes. His lashes flicked slightly. "No idea what you're talking about."

Celestia shook from head to toe-not from weakness, but from anger. She wanted to scream, wanted to fight, but even moving took all of her energy. Gritting her teeth, she forced the words out:

"I heard everything... You set me up. You had that woman drug my drink, and then-you forced yourself on me..." That last part came out in a hoarse scream.

"Why would you do that? I've never done anything to hurt you! Why?"

Each word she said felt like knives carving out her already shattered heart.

Jareth stood there unfazed, not even a flicker of guilt. Only after she fell silent, completely drained, did he finally speak, lips curling into a faint smile.

"Because I wanted you." His voice was almost gentle, his eyes locked on her tear-soaked lashes as he reached out and twirled a piece of her hair between his fingers.

The smile on his face wasn't reassuring-it was cold, twisted, terrifying.

"My dear little wife, do you really not realize how many men are dying to have you? How many are ready to kill just to get close to you? I'm just one of them." His tone was strangely soft, even affectionate.

"You really think I'm gonna buy that crap?" Celestia let out a breathless laugh, full of bitterness. Hatred blazed inside her, the pain almost knocking her out again. His face-twisted with that sick grin-blurred in her vision.

"Why wouldn't you believe me? Don't you know how gorgeous you are?" Jareth went on, still stroking her hair with that same obsessive look in his dark eyes.

"You're so beautiful it drives me mad-makes me want to ruin you..."

Celestia's breathing grew frantic, her chest rising with every harsh gasp. Looking at the man she should call husband, she rasped out, "So that's what you want? My body? My money? Is that what all this is for?"

Unexpectedly, Jareth fell silent. Then, something dangerous flickered in his eyes.

"Your pain."

Her pain-he did all this just to watch her suffer?

Celestia's rage finally broke loose. With all the strength she could muster, she slapped him-hard.

"You're a monster, Jareth!" she spat out, right before collapsing.

Her slap, weak as it was, still left a stinging red mark on Jareth's cheek. He touched his face with his fingers, looking down at her limp body. Amused.

"You actually hit me?" he murmured with a chilling smile-calm on the surface, but somehow far scarier than if he'd screamed.

Celestia could barely cling to consciousness. Her body was too drained to even lift a finger. She just stared at Jareth in silence, her lips unable to form a sound.

There was a cold glint in Jareth's eyes, something predatory, almost feral. The next second, without any warning, he lunged forward and gripped her slender neck tightly. His fingers locked around her throat, his whole aura radiating violence.

He glared fiercely at her, watching her eyes roll back from lack of air. There wasn't the slightest trace of mercy in his expression-only rage.

"No one gets away with laying a hand on me!" he growled, veins bulging on his forehead, his anger burning.

Celestia tried to fight back, but her body betrayed her. She couldn't even muster the strength to twitch her fingers, much less break free. Her vision started to blur, breath growing thinner with each passing second, until she felt herself slipping.

Just then, Jareth flung her back onto the bed, hard.

The force of it knocked the air from her lungs. She let out a muffled gasp as pain shot through her entire body, almost passing out again.

"Don't think being a woman will save you. Next time, I'll make you pay double," he sneered, his gaze icy as it swept over her from head to toe. And just like that, he turned on his heel and left without a second glance.

Celestia stared at his retreating back, lips parted as if wanting to say something-but nothing came out.

Just as Jareth opened the door to leave, he paused, turning back with a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, and if you wanna watch us getting it on again, no need to spy from the balcony. I don't mind giving you front-row seats next time."

The last thing Celestia saw before blacking out was that twisted grin on his face. Then-nothing.

When she woke again, four days had passed.

The first two, her fever raged unchecked because no one came to help. It wasn't until the third day that the housekeeper panicked and called a doctor, who finally gave her fluids. By the fourth morning, her fever finally broke.

When she first regained consciousness, she felt completely hollow inside-like she was just skin and bone. She laid there blankly, staring at the ceiling for a solid half hour before her mind started clearing bit by bit. Even getting out of bed felt impossible.

Her head was spinning, but she still managed to throw on something and drag herself slowly out the door, using the wall as support.

The walk from upstairs to the ground floor took mere seconds on a good day. But for Celestia, every step felt like she was trudging through miles. By the time she reached the bottom stair, her legs gave out and she slumped to the floor, completely spent.

Right then, the housekeeper, Amy, walked out of the kitchen and saw her. She hurried over in alarm, dropping what she was holding. "Ma'am! You're awake!" She helped Celestia up and settled her onto the couch.

"Yeah..." Celestia croaked weakly, leaning back against the cushions. After she caught her breath, she looked up at Amy and asked, "Can you make me some food?"

She hadn't eaten in days. Other than some water and nutrient drips, her stomach had been completely empty. Now that she was conscious, the hunger hit her like a brick.

Amy looked torn, her face full of guilt. "I... I'm so sorry, Ma'am. Mr. Carrington told us not to help you in any way."

Celestia stared at her, stunned. Her pale face flushed red with suppressed fury. Was Jareth really trying to starve her out now?

Fine.

If he wanted her to give up that easily, he was dreaming.

"Can you at least tell me where the food is? I'll cook it myself," she said, forcing herself upright.

"You know how to cook?" Amy looked surprised.

Celestia nodded and headed toward the kitchen, "Lived on my own in high school. I'm not totally helpless, you know."