I Healed my Husband, the Leader of the Underworld

When my husband comes home injured, as a wife, I don’t ask questions but immediately tend to his wounds.

It was a reflex mechanism I faithfully engraved in myself over the past two years.

For a short yet long time, I never neglected to do it despite his blatant indifference.

Just like I’m doing it right now.

Even though my mother-in-law was just buried, I had to act as if my situation didn’t change. As if he wasn’t going to kill me about a week from now.

He was severely hurt and needed my help, but the fact that he came to me on his own this time, made me hope that maybe all my efforts have finally paid off.

As we walked down the empty hallway in the direction of our quarters, the flickering candlelight danced in the darkness. And upon reaching the room, I sat on the bed while Siegfried started to take his shirt off. The sight of his naked body still felt unfamiliar and made me unable to breathe normally.

He also showed up badly hurt on our wedding night. Covered in blood, he entered the room, ordering me to call a doctor and fell into a death-like sleep after being treated.

We didn’t see each other for a long time after this; he didn’t even bother to come home late anymore like he used to.

And when I asked the butler about my husband’s whereabouts, he simply said, “He is very busy.” The obvious smirk he had on his lips still lingered in my mind.

Suspicious that my husband was seeing another woman, I secretly sniffed the shirts he wore during his outings. There was no woman perfume on his clothes, but a sharp smell of gun powder and his natural body aroma always coated them instead.

There were also a few blood drops on his collar instead of the lipstick stain I was looking for.

I was relieved but I still didn’t know what he was up to.

In that moment, I regretted not reading the book till the end, now I had no idea what kind of person my husband was.

Well, I guess it’s no use overthinking about useless things, I just need to find a way to handle him.

While lost in thoughts, his shirt softly rustled as it fell on the floor, revealing his muscular back.

His well-toned skin was filled with scars, but what caught my attention the most were his tattoos that created a stark contrast with his usual perfect gentlemen image.

My eyes slid down his body, and a suffocating sensation gripped my heart.

There was a deep, vertically running wound on his lower back, dripping blood on his pants. It seemed like someone had brutally torn his flesh with a dagger.

This looked fatal, I thought.

It was rare for him to get hurt this badly. Did his mother’s death made him unable to focus on whatever he’s doing outside? Honestly, it was clear that something was eating at him today.

Our gaze met and I couldn’t help but tremble. Somehow, I still felt so insignificant in front of him, even though I tried so hard to appear bigger than life.

As the wife of an aristocrat, networking was one of the skills I had to master. Navigating through high society’s social circles while maintaining a perfect reputation always felt like going on the battlefield.

I recalled how much I struggled, but still I never wavered.

Not even once.

But every time I faced this indifferent man, it was so difficult to hold my facades up.

Siegfried moved closer and plopped down next to me.

If I don’t treat him, he’ll die. Then, he won’t be able to kill me anymore, I pondered.

“Milena,” he called my name, his voice sounding like he was gently stroking a beloved pet.

I flinched, anxious that maybe he saw through what I was thinking about just now.

Then, I felt him for the first time as his rough hand brushed against the untouched skin of my face. It was the first time I had ever felt the touch of a man on me, leaving me breathless.

He drew even closer than before, looking through my soul with those eyes of his, and I instinctively turned my head away, trembling with anticipation.

In this intimate space where our breaths mixed with one another, I feared my emotions would be too obvious.

And then, in that moment, he softly kissed me.

I stared at a hazy vision of him under my shaking eyelids. As our lips parted, I savored for the first time the delicate sound it made. He intensely watched me gulp nervously, carefully observing every movement I made, and making my heart race while his face remained calm and composed.

“Should I do more?” he asked.

I never thought the person who drew a sharp line between us for the past two years would be acting like this when he needed my help.

He went as far as offering to fulfill the desire of a woman thirsty for affection, in exchange for treatment.

I watched him move towards me, as if he was about to lay me on the bed, so I quickly reached out for his back.

Something damp and sticky instantly tickled my fingertips.

He let out a pained groan, and with quick breaths, I poured out all my strength to radiate healing light on the wound I just touched.

As expected, the more magic I used, the more I felt like my heart was being torn apart. I knew using my ability recklessly, when I wasn’t skilled enough, would eventually take a toll on my body. But still, I poured all my magic into healing his injury.

When I finally pulled my bloodied hands away, he was silently watching me. I struggled to not show anything, despite the pain tearing my chest apart.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said before standing up from my seat. I didn’t want to be involved in such a dirty deal.

“Just rest,” I advised.

Tomorrow happened to be the day my husband would ask me for a divorce. And for it to go smoothly, we needed to not consummate our marriage.

There was no need to complicate things by getting caught up in unnecessary affairs, when I knew he was someone who could just shoot me to make the process simpler.

He wasn’t supposed to get this wound. So, this night was an aberration, and could make the whole divorce thing go south for me.

“You must be feeling quite uncomfortable, so I’ll go to the guest room.”

After saying this, I left the room without looking back, and since he already got what he wanted, he didn’t hold onto me.

I leaned against the closed door, taking deep breaths and relieved that there were no maids in sight to witness my weak moment.

As I tried to move my unsteady body away, the door opened again. And before I could regain my balance, the solid body of a man wrapped around mine.

His body was hot, contrary to his icy eyes staring through me.

“Are you trying to neglect your wifely duties?” My husband asked in a chillingly low tone.

He lowered his head to whisper into my ears, “while being so dedicated to your social activities, it seems you have been eyeing another man, huh?”

In the meantime, my thoughts were running wild.

Divorce would be way easier if the spouses had not been faithful to each other. So, I saw his question as an opportunity. An opportunity to confess that I was in love with someone else other than him and shed the obsessive wife title off me.

It wasn’t the time to worry about living in this judgmental world as a discarded, and divorced woman. I should do that after I survive him. First, I had to stay alive.

“What if that’s the case?” As soon as my words fell, he pulled me deeper into his embrace.

And I had no chance to resist.

The door slammed shut with a loud bang, probably echoing throughout the house. He then confidently guided me back to the bed, and without hesitation, pushed himself in between my legs.

I felt like I was sinking in the soft blanket, as if I was immersed in a whipped cream cake. My neat golden hair was now disheveled while his deep blue eyes captivated me.

“Milena,” he whispered, teasingly caressing my lips with his.

“What’s your name?”

“……”

“Is it perhaps Milena Rochester?” he asked mockingly.

While I was trying to calm my surprised heart, he moved my head to the side, came closer to brush his lips against my ear, and made me feel things I never felt before.

“Wrong,” he coldly replied. “You are no longer a Rochester. You are Roham’s mistress”.

His hot tongue traced along my lower lip.

His hand tugged at the soft fabric between my legs, gently caressing my inner thighs.

“You belong to me, Milena.”

I trembled as the intruder thrusted through my throbbing flesh.

My lips parted in a gasp and his tongue instantly came in, curling around mine, making my head spin.

I couldn’t understand why this man was acting like that. Was it so unsettling to see the wife he didn’t want slip out of his control? Even so, for him to react like this after two years of indifference……….

The man lowered his head, biting hard on my neck. Tears welled up in my eyes, streaming down my cheeks, and through my blurred vision, I could see the smug smile on his face.

“I need you to understand your place,” he threatened, making my heart sink.

He persistently marked my skin throughout the whole night. Agonizing, I tried to push him away, but he held me tighter and whispered vulgar words to me.

“what’s the matter, you don’t want him to see them?

My delicate wrists were over my head, trapped.

“Just how special is he?”

“Why do you cherish him so much, hmm?”

I lied! He doesn’t even exist, I cried in my head.

“Who is it?”

In the darkness of the night, Siegfried persistently asked for the name of the one who stole my heart, and bitterly complained while he punished me for not giving him an answer.

While I desired him, I had no experience to dominate that man in bed so, without saying a word, I let him take me.

He ravaged my lips, and I made no effort to stop him.

Because of this marriage, returning to Milena’s family was not an option. Her eldest brother thought she was stubborn and stupid for having persisted in this marriage. Her second brother hated Milena for killing their mother, and there was presently no news about their father, who left to do business in a foreign country.

Well, it wouldn’t change anything if he was there. I didn’t know him like the real Milena did; I didn’t know anything about any of them for that matter.

Moreover, if I were to return home as a divorced woman, my brothers, and the servants there would shame and humiliate me since I’d be seen as a disgrace. High society would laugh at me for the rest of my life. which I would probably spend in a monastery, where my brothers would send me so I couldn’t embarrass the family’s name any longer.

I had no friends to take care of me. Even when the real Milena was here, high society’s glamorous lights were her only friends. She might have had a lot of people surrounding her during balls and so on, but she had no one who wasn’t waiting for her downfall.

She was always lonely among those people.

As for myself, aside from the few empty friendships I made during those two years, I also had no one to help me. Nothing but jewelry and dresses.

People must be anticipating for when I’d get thrown out of the Duke’s mansion, but I didn’t want to be their ‘gossip of the season.’

My husband seemed like the best option, so I was ready to live quietly, holding my breath within these walls.

And even though I had prepared to fend for myself alone, losing the protection this estate provided me, still scared me. It’s the closest thing to a home I had in this foreign world after all.

So, if my husband wanted to make it hard for him to get rid of his wife, I wasn’t going to stop him.

I had no sexual experience in my previous or present life, I just surrendered my body to him.

And he took it.

He grabbed my chin and left kisses all over my face, my neck, my chest.

Every single one of them reminded me how he acted for those two years. Why did he change? Why now?

He continued as if he needed to make sure no part of me was left untouched by his lips. I was endlessly being eaten by him, every inch of me.

In the end, it hurt, so I pushed him as hard as I could but as if I told him a joke, he laughed, trapped my arms on top of my head and came crashing in again.

“What are you trying to do with those weak arms?”

A husband who was always tidy, but still gave off a sense of danger.

Siegfried was hard to meet in this house, still, during the rare moments I came across him, I always thought that if he was to ever show me his real face, I’d fear it. And my guess was correct.

His blue eyes, glowing in this dark room, were like shackles that bound me. He laughed at my painful moans and moved his hips deeper.

But even amid all that, I found him beautiful.

“Milena,” he whispered and took my tongue with his again before his rough hand gripped my neck so tightly, I felt it would break if he applied more force.

“The immature young lady that you are,” he chuckled seductively. “Dared to step into my territory.”

His hand caressed my face.

“To think you would get tired of me so quickly just like you get tired of your pretty jewelry.”

I couldn’t bear to see his face, so I closed my eyes. Then I felt him wrap my legs around his waist, felt his fingers part my lips, his lips on mine, his tongue around my tongue, teasing me and keeping me silent in the total darkness.

“You are mine,” he growled.

He lifted me from the bed with such force, it made my shoulder tremble.

He lowered his head while tilting my chin up, forcing me to look into his eye as he murmured, “And I am yours.”

His enchanting words penetrated my ears, sending shivers all over me.

“Remember, till death do us part” he reminded me as he wrapped my body so closely to his, sliding in and out so deeply, it felt like we were melting into each other.

And as I tried to breathe, the same scent I had smelled, when I secretly took his shirts, gently brushed against my nose.