---- Chapter 6 | stared at her, my mind unable to process the sheer monstrosity of her demand. My living blood bank. She wanted to turn my body into a medical supply closet for her convenience. "No," the word escaped my lips, a choked whisper. Blake's grip on my arm tightened, his knuckles white. He leaned down, his voice a low, menacing growl in my ear. "Don't even think about it, Ellen. Remember your father's grave." The threat, once again. The ultimate leash he held around my neck. The fight drained out of me, replaced by an icy, bottomless despair. | looked at his face, so close to mine, and saw a stranger. The hero | had married was a ghost, a figment of my imagination. This cold, cruel man was the reality. My head drooped. My shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine," | croaked, the word tasting like poison on my tongue. A grim satisfaction settled on Blake' s face. He released my arm and pushed me toward a nurse. "Take her," he commanded. "Draw as much as you can." ---- | was led into a small, sterile room and forced into a chair. The nurse, a kind-faced older woman, looked at me with pity in her eyes. She tied a rubber strap around my arm, her touch gentle. "I'm sorry, dear," she murmured. The needle was cold and sharp. | watched, detached, as my own blood, dark and red, began to flow through a clear tube, filling a plastic bag. It felt like my life force was draining away, leaving me even more hollow than before. Celesta stood in the doorway, observing the process with a proprietary air. "Take another bag," she ordered the nurse when the first one was full. "We need to have plenty in reserve." The nurse looked alarmed. "Miss, we've already taken the maximum recommended amount. Any more could be dangerous for the donor." "| don't care about 'recommended amounts," Celesta snapped, her voice sharp. "| care about my safety. Do as | say. Or I'll have Blake fire this entire hospital." The nurse paled but complied. She prepped my other arm. The world began to feel distant, the edges of my vision turning gray and fuzzy. | felt cold, a deep, internal chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. | was lightheaded, dizzy. The steady beeping of the machines around me seemed to fade into a dull hum. ---- Just as the second bag was nearly full, my body gave up. My head lolled to the side, and the world went black. When | woke up, the first thing | felt was a dull, throbbing pain in my side. It wasn't the sharp pain of a bruise or the ache of a strained muscle. It was a deep, surgical pain. My hand went to my side, over the thin hospital gown. | felt a thick bandage, taped securely to my skin. Panic, cold and sharp, pierced through the fog in my mind. What had they done? | tried to sit up, but the pain was too intense. | cried out, a weak, guttural sound. Anurse rushed in. It was the same one from before. Her face was etched with guilt and sorrow. "What happened?" | gasped, my hand clutching the bandage. "What is this?" She couldn't meet my eyes. She just wrung her hands, her expression miserable. The door opened, and Celesta swept in. She looked radiant, refreshed, as if she'd just had a spa day. She glanced at me on the bed, a look of mild disgust on her face. "Oh, you're finally awake," she said, her voice bored. "You' ve been unconscious for three days. So dramatic." ---- "What did you do to me?" | whispered, the words trembling. She waved a dismissive hand. "Don't be so theatrical. The doctors discovered that | have a degenerative kidney condition. It's very rare, a side effect of my powerful spiritual lineage, you see. | might need a transplant one day." She paused, letting the words hang in the air. "And since we already knew you were a perfect match for my blood, Blake had the doctors check if you were a match for a kidney, too. And you were! Another miracle! So, to be proactive, we had one of your kidneys removed and put into storage. For me. Just in case." The room tilted. The air rushed from my lungs. | felt as if | had been struck by lightning. They had harvested my body. They had taken a part of me, without my consent, while | was unconscious. | was no longer a person. | was a collection of spare parts. "You... you can't," | stammered, my mind reeling. "Oh, but we can," she said with a smug smile. "Blake signed all the consent forms. As your husband, he has that right." She stepped closer to the bed, her eyes glinting with pure sadism. "Honestly, I'm doing you a favor. You're so weak. Now you'll be lighter." She reached down, intending to pull me up, probably to inflict ---- some new, twisted punishment. Something inside me, a primal, cornered-animal instinct for survival, exploded. The years of abuse, the death of my father, the constant humiliation, the theft of my blood and now my organ-it all coalesced into a single, blinding flash of rage. With a strength | didn't know | possessed, | swung my arm, knocking her hand away. The force of the blow surprised both of us. Celesta, caught off balance, stumbled backward and fell to the floor with a loud, undignified squawk. At that exact moment, the door flew open, and Blake rushed in. He saw Celesta on the floor, her face a mask of shocked indignation. He saw me, half-sitting up in bed, my eyes blazing with a hatred so pure it was almost incandescent. And he, as always, saw only what he wanted to see. He saw his damsel in distress and the wicked shrew who had wronged her.