Lost My Savior, Found His Pain

For years, I believed my unique blood was a gift to save the man I loved.

Now, he saw it as a poison.

At the urging of his venomous new lover, Kim, he believed I was a family enemy trying to destroy him.

He subjected me to endless torture, draining my life force to treat Kim' s fake pregnancy. Each extraction, which he saw as me faking my pain, was actually pushing my body toward total collapse.

I endured it all for one reason: to protect my innocent brother, Benny. But how could the man whose life I'd secretly preserved be so blind to the truth?

When they captured Benny and threatened his life, I offered my final sacrifice. I gave Cliffton my entire remaining life force, dissolving into light before his very eyes.

And in that instant, as his cured parents appeared to reveal every lie, he finally understood: he had just murdered his own salvation.

Chapter 1

For years, I believed my unique blood was a gift, a secret key to saving the man I loved. Now, Cliffton Faulkner, the man whose life I' d secretly preserved, dragged me through his estate, believing my every touch was a poison.

The slap was brutal. It woke me like a thunderclap. My head whipped to the side, my cheek burning. Dizziness swam behind my eyes, blurring the edges of the opulent room.

"Get up, you wretched creature!" A harsh, guttural voice, belonging to one of Cliffton's monstrous guards, sliced through the haze.

My body screamed. It was a dull, constant ache, a familiar companion these days. I tried to push myself up, but my limbs felt like lead. They were heavy, unresponsive.

A rough hand clamped around my arm. Calloused fingers dug into my flesh. Pain shot up to my shoulder. Not a sharp, piercing pain, but a deep, throbbing bruise that spread through my bones.

I gasped. My breath caught in my throat.

The guard yanked, ignoring my struggle. My body scraped against the cold, marble floor. The marble was slick, reflecting the dim hallway lights. It smelled of antiseptic and old money, a bitter mix.

"Move it! She needs you!" His voice was a snarl, laced with disgust.

He dragged me, not caring if my worn shift rode up, not caring about the blood that might be seeping from my latest wound onto the pristine floor. My hair tangled, pulling painfully at my scalp. Each bump, each jerk, sent tremors through my already weakened frame.

My vision swam. Sounds became muffled, like I was underwater. All I could focus on was the burning in my arm, the tearing in my muscles. My body was a puppet on broken strings.

We moved through the winding corridors. The air grew colder. The scent of disinfectant intensified, mingling with a faint, cloying sweetness. I knew where we were going. Always the same place.

Finally, the dragging stopped. I lay crumpled on the floor, gasping for air. My chest heaved, each breath a struggle. My eyes fluttered open slowly.

Cliffton.

He stood there, perfectly composed. His dark hair was just so, his suit immaculate. His eyes, the color of a stormy sea, usually held a cold fire. Now, they were narrowed, but there was a flicker there, brief and gone, when he saw me. Just a flicker.

His gaze swept over my disheveled form, over the bloodied shift clinging to my skin. Something shifted in his jaw. His lips, usually so firm and unyielding, pressed into an even tighter line. He looked away, quickly.

He swallowed hard. A subtle tremor ran through his shoulders. He composed himself almost instantly, a mask of cold indifference settling back into place.

"Adelaide," he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "Kim needs you. Now."

My heart, already a bruised mess, constricted further. Kim. Of course. It was always Kim.

I pushed myself up, slowly, painfully. My muscles screamed in protest. Each movement was agony. My eyes found Kim, lying on a plush chaise in the dimly lit medical wing. She looked pale, her hand pressed dramatically to her forehead.

"Look at her, Cliffton," Kim's voice was weak, theatrical. "Always so pathetic. Just trying to gain sympathy."

Another guard, bolder now, stepped forward. He kicked my side, a dull thud against my ribs. It wasn't hard enough to break anything, but it was enough to make me stumble, to remind me of my place.

"Get up, witch! Don't make him wait!" the guard snarled.

My head snapped up. I met Cliffton's gaze. His eyes were cold, unforgiving. No sympathy. No mercy.

"Don't try anything, Adelaide," he warned, his voice a low growl. "Or your brother will pay the price."

Benny. My sweet Benny. The thought of him, innocent and unaware, sent a fresh wave of fear through me. I couldn't risk it. Not for him.

"I... I understand, Cliffton," I whispered, my voice hoarse, raw. "I'm sorry."

I pushed myself to my feet, swaying slightly. My legs felt like jelly. I walked towards Kim, each step heavy. The air felt thick, suffocating.

Kim watched me approach, a smirk playing on her lips. Her "injury" seemed to disappear the closer I got. She had scraped her knee, a tiny scratch on her perfectly manicured leg. A "high-risk pregnancy" was her latest excuse for these theatrics. It was all a lie. I knew it. Cliffton, blinded by his hatred for my family, believed every word.

This was my life. A cycle of abuse, extraction, and misplaced blame. For years. How long could I endure it? How much more could my body, my spirit, take?

I reached the chaise. Kim stared up at me, her eyes glinting with a malicious satisfaction. She was enjoying this. Always.

I took a deep breath. This was the ritual. The familiar, agonizing ritual. I reached for the sterile kit on the bedside table. My hands trembled slightly.

Cliffton's voice cut through the air. "Everyone out. Now."

The guards, the medical staff, they all filed out, leaving just the three of us. The heavy door clicked shut. The silence that followed was suffocating. It pressed down on me, heavy and cold.

I glanced at Cliffton. He stood by the wall, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on me. What was he thinking? Did he ever wonder if I was telling the truth? Did he ever question Kim's endless "ailments"?

No. He didn't. His hatred ran too deep. His grief for his missing parents, fueled by Kim's venom, was a festering wound that twisted his perception. He saw a poisoner, a rival. He saw the enemy. He never saw the girl who loved him.

I sighed, a silent, internal sound. It didn't matter what he thought. It never did. I opened the kit. The instruments gleamed under the soft light. They were familiar, cold, and sharp.

I rolled up my sleeve. My arm was a map of old scars, faint silver lines against my pale skin. Each one a testament to my sacrifice, to his survival. To his contempt.

I picked up the smallest lancet. My hand shook. This was the hardest part. The beginning of the pain. I clenched my jaw, preparing myself.

The sharp prick of the lancet. A searing pain, like liquid fire. I bit back a cry. A bead of blood, thick and shimmering, welled up. It was more than just blood. It was my essence. My life force.

"Stop faking it, Adelaide," Cliffton's voice was a low growl. "You make a show of it every time."

He thought I was faking? After all this time? My blood was the only thing keeping him alive, the only thing keeping Kim's elaborate lie going. My body was a dying vessel, drained repeatedly. Each extraction took a piece of me, not just physically, but spiritually.

If he only knew, I thought. If he only knew what this really was. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. He saw a slow-acting poison, a weakening agent. He saw what Kim told him to see. He never saw the cure. He never saw the love.

I let the blood drip into the prepared vial. It glowed faintly, a soft, ethereal light. The regenerative stem cells, unique to my lineage, were potent. They were miracles.

Kim watched, her eyes wide, a strange mix of fear and triumph on her face. She saw the glow. She saw the power. She wanted it all.

The vial filled quickly. My arm throbbed, a deep, persistent ache. My vision blurred again. My body sagged.

"There," I whispered, holding out the vial. My hand trembled, but the vial was steady.

Cliffton snatched it. He moved to Kim, his touch gentle as he applied the glowing liquid to her scraped knee. The tiny cut healed instantly, the skin knitting back together as if it had never been broken.

"My love," he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a tenderness he never showed me. He kissed her forehead. "Are you alright?"

Kim leaned into him, a soft smile on her lips. Then her eyes met mine. A flash of pure venom, a silent message: You lose.

"She's done now, Cliffton," Kim purred, her voice sweet, but with an edge of steel. "Have her removed. I can't stand the sight of her."

Cliffton's stormy eyes snapped to me. The tenderness was gone, replaced by the familiar cold rage.

"Get out!" he roared. "And don't show your face here again until you're called!"

I stumbled backward, my legs barely holding me. The floor felt cold against my bare feet. My head was pounding. My arm pulsed with a dull ache.

I crawled away, not bothering to walk. I couldn't. My dignity, my strength, everything was stripped away, piece by painful piece. I heard Cliffton's voice, soft and soothing, comforting Kim.

"That monster," Kim whispered loudly enough for me to hear. "Always trying to hurt us, Cliffton. Always trying to undermine what we have."

"She won't touch you again, my love," Cliffton promised, his voice low and dangerous. "I swear it."

A sob tore through me. It was a silent cry, caught in my chest. Empty. Hollow. The pain was more than physical. It was a crushing weight in my soul. My heart felt like it was ripping apart.

Just as I reached the door, a bucket of frigid water slammed into me. It wasn't just water. It was ice. It shocked my already weakened system. I gasped, shivering violently.

"Clean up your mess, monster!" A maid's voice, full of contempt, shrilled behind me. "You think you can bleed all over our clean floors?"

I tried to stand, but my legs buckled. The cold water clung to my shift, making me even colder. My body ached, shivered uncontrollably. How was I supposed to clean anything? I could barely move.

I fumbled for the cleaning supplies, my fingers clumsy and numb. The floor was spotless. There was no mess. The maid just wanted to torment me. Just like everyone else. Just like him.

Hours stretched, then faded into a blur. I scrubbed, or pretended to. My body screamed for rest, for warmth. But there was no rest, no warmth for me. Only the cold, the pain, the endless cycle.

From within the room, I heard the soft murmurs of Cliffton and Kim. Then, the sounds grew more intimate. Laughter. Soft moans. The sounds of love. The love I would never have.

Tears streamed down my face. Silent. Hot. They were the only warmth I had left. Cliffton's face, his eyes filled with disgust, flashed in my mind. He hated me. He truly hated me.

A strange calm began to settle over the chaos in my mind. A weary acceptance. My body was failing. I could feel it. The last extraction had taken more than I could give. My unique gift, my curse, was draining me faster than ever.

I knew. I could feel the subtle shifts, the fading of the inner light. The end was near. Perhaps only a few more months. Perhaps weeks. My body was a clock, ticking down to zero.

The thought, instead of bringing fear, brought a strange, quiet peace.