They didn't even let me kill myself to end my misery when I lost the will to live.
It was also the time I was the most thankful to Roman. He ended the agonizing and unending suffering I was going through. Not one caused by shallow physical torture as what happened in my first two lives but the type of pain that has roots on your heart and soul. Aiden didn't see me as a person in a way that, even if wickedly, both Dwayne Thornbury and Kalil Montara did. To him I was simply a vessel that could only be discarded after it gave to him what he wanted.
I begged him to let me die, but he didn't even bait an eyelash. He would come to my chambers in the middle of the night, no matter what I was doing or how I was, he would strip me from my clothes, mount on me like an animal, and try breeding me over and over again, then he would leave. It came to a point where I didn't even feel physical pain anymore, I just wanted him to be over with that.
Every child that never-was gave me a temporary will to live, until it all evaporated when I lost them. The most painful was still the first baby that I didn't lost with a premature miscarriage, as he was born, but dead. I was only 18, and the nine months I had him with me were one of the only hopeful moments of my existence, I didn't care about the Astrophels treated me, or anyone else, as I could only think that I wanted to be strong and live for my baby.
We learned that I was expecting for a baby male when I was on the 5th month, and they chose the name right away. They didn't let me chose any of it, but I didn't mind it, as Dove chose a beautiful name for my boy.
Adrian Nathaniel Vernon Joshua Daryl Hans Astrophel.
The nine months that followed were everything to me, the nausea and dizziness were constant from beginning to the end, but I didn't mind it, as long as it was fine with the baby. He was born on December 3rd, in late Spring, of the Fire element and with Yang energy in him. But he was not alive. I had lots of complications during childbirth, it took me more than 16 hours to work it out, and I almost died too. I wish I had.
But whereas to me, I was going through grief, Aiden saw that as a 'failed sample' and didn't even give me time to rest before trying again, after his mother told him that the after-birth was the best time to breed again. He had no mercy on that. None at all. He wanted 'another Adrian', but to me, there was never going to exist another one.
All of that made me hate the fact that I was an Alderidge. Being one of them made people look at me as if I was a golden goose ready to give them my eggs of gold. They only wanted me for that, that was my only use in their eyes. Bearing children. I was never a being with its own will to them, never my own person. And I used to wonder if it would all be different if I had been born in any house other than mine.
Hopeless thoughts, as the damned Gods kept reincarnating me as Amaya Alderidge. Every damn time. Amaya fucking Alderidge. And even though I still low key hate it, because of all I went through for being of this house, I don't think like that anymore. I'm looking at the full picture with a different perspective now.
Margaret used to tell me, 'If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.' I didn't understand it back then, but now I do. She was a wise Fae, always telling me things I couldn't understand, but that I knew were right. I lived with her for around five years, and she made a change in my very existence in just that little time.
With short wavy dirty blonde hair, peridot green eyes, and tanned skin, she was a handful taller than me, and always mysterious. She never told me where she was from, or how was her past, just as I didn't tell her mine, and we lived on that pace. I knew she wasn't naturally from Edelon, and that she was an elder Fae around 800 years old, maybe more.
She also never had children, and she took me in as a daughter. Even though we had no blood-relation she took care of me better than Selene ever did in my four lives. Margaret was an angel in my life, an angel of life, just as much as Roman was always my angel of death.
We lived in her cottage, and she would do everything, so I would hunt for us and protect us, using the martial skills and the little magic I manage to learn. Margaret would complain that I didn't know how to do any household work, than proceed to teach me with the most care in the world. At night, we would watch the starry sky in silent, and when she felt sleepy, I would read a book for her.
That was our routine. No shortcomings, no bad feelings, no chaos, no disgrace, no abuse, no traumas. A simple life. I didn't need luxury, or a Royal title and territory to live peacefully, I only needed that much. And sometimes, as if knowing what I was thinking, she would come to me, pet my hair and say, 'She who knows that enough is enough will always have enough, sweetheart.'
"…Siren? Little Siren?" I blinked as uncle Christian's call brought me back. I met his citrine gaze, still blinking. "Are you alright, little Siren?" He asked worried.
Nodding, I gave him a soft smile, but I didn't reach my eyes.
He held me tighter in his arm, as if to reassured that I was not alone in this life, and I gulped, doing my best to keep my emotions in check. "It's okay. I'm here. Uncle's here, little Siren," he kissed my forehead softly. "You must be tired, it's late, let me put you to sleep!"
Uncle Christian put me on my bed carefully and covered me with the lilac blanket. He bend down, began caressing my hair softly, and started humming a lullaby that was definitely sleep inducing because it was making my eyelids feel heavier and heavier.
The last thing I remember was his cinnamon scent.