My Immortal Life for His Lover

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My husband Alex discovered I was immortal and turned me into a blood bag for his beloved Bella.

When a stalker targeted Bella, he had me pose as her. I ended up beaten and crippled.

When kidnappers took Bella, he sent me in as her substitute. I got blown apart by explosives.

I tried to run, sobbing, desperate to escape but he always dragged me back.

He'd always say: "It's fine. It's not like you can die anyway."

What he didn't know was that I'd made a deal with a god to give up my immortality.

Within three months, my immortality would fade away entirely.

And yet he was still using me as Bella's human shield, right up to the very end.

He had no idea this would be the last time.

I woke up again and stared blankly at the wedding photo of me and Alex hanging on the wall.

The couple in the photo looked perfect together he was handsome, I was pretty. But there wasn't a single smile on his face.

Everyone said Alex loved me to the bone. What they didn't know was that I was nothing more than a stand-in for Bella his foster sister, the woman he truly wanted.

By day, I took Bella's hits. By night, I took her place in his bed.

All because they couldn't be together.

A few hours ago, I'd been attacked by one of Bella's obsessed fans.

The guy came at me with a knife, stabbing me over and over until I was covered in holes, bleeding everywhere.

Bella laughed from the comfort of Alex's arms and said, "Good thing you had Chloe pretend to be me. Otherwise, I'd be the one looking like a pincushion right now."

The way she looked at me like I was the lowest, most pathetic creature alive.

And Alex just gazed at her with that tender, adoring look of his, and said lightly, "It's fine. It's not like she can die."

I'd lost count of how many times I'd taken the fall for Bella.

A stalker hunted her I stepped in and got beaten until I couldn't walk.

Kidnappers took her I went in her place and got blown to pieces by explosives.

And now? A few dozen stab wounds. No big deal.

I looked down at my wounds in silence.

They weren't healing the way they used to.

My immortality was disappearing.

A few days ago, a divine presence from another realm had come to me. I was the one who'd asked it to remove my immortality.

It agreed.

In three months, my immortality would be gone completely.

After that, I would be ordinary. No powers. No protection.

I gave my wounds one last bitter look and let the memories of my life with Alex wash over me.

Everything that had already happened I'd endured it all.

Everything still to come I was powerless to change.

Some time passed. The bedroom door swung open and Alex walked in.

His handsome face was half-hidden in shadow.

He looked at my pale face and the wounds exposed on my skin, and his brow furrowed. "What's going on? Why is it taking so long to heal this time?"

I gave a hollow smile and said nothing.

He reached out and touched my face the face that looked so much like Bella's and let out a relieved sigh.

"Good. The face is untouched."

It felt like a needle to the heart. The only thing he cared about was how much I resembled her.

What about the dozens of stab wounds covering the rest of me?

He pulled me close, his grip carrying a raw, possessive pull.

I hissed and pulled back, whimpering, "That hurts."

But he didn't stop. He didn't care what I wanted.

He spoke coldly against my ear: "Then grit your teeth."

At the most intimate moment, I heard him murmur softly against my skin "Bella"

The tenderness in his voice as if I were the most precious thing in the world to him.

I stared up at the crystal chandelier above me, and in that moment, I felt my tears run dry.

To him, I was nothing. Just a body he used to fill the void she left.

A clap of thunder shook the air. Outside, rain came pouring down just like my tears.

Alex's phone rang. It was Bella. She was crying, saying she was scared of the thunder, saying she needed him.

Alex's voice went soft and gentle. "I'll be right there."

He didn't look at me once. No explanation. He just grabbed his jacket and walked out the door like I was a piece of garbage he could throw away whenever he felt like it.

About an hour later, Bella posted on Instagram: "Stormy night, so glad to have Alex by my side."

The photo showed two hands intertwined. On the slender white wrist of one hand was a tattoo a lush, blooming rose.

My heart clenched. I turned and stared at my own wrist.

In the exact same spot, I had the same rose. Alex had forced me to get it.

No wonder he always pressed his lips to my wrist like he was starving for it. He was pretending it was Bella's.

Something inside me shattered like broken glass.

Any tattoo on my skin would eventually fade away on its own my body rejected them, just like everything else.

So every few days, when the ink started to blur, Alex would redo it with that obsessive, almost unhinged intensity of his.

Day after day. Year after year. Hundreds of times. Maybe thousands.

Every single time, it hurt. I'd cry through it. He never cared.

My entire existence was just to feed his forbidden obsession.

I had tried to run before. But he always caught me.

The worst time, he locked me in the basement as punishment. For three whole months, he never once brought me water or food.

I'd gone in at 120 pounds. By the time he came back, I was barely 90.

I was practically a skeleton nothing but skin and bone. And yet I couldn't die.

At first I screamed and cried day and night down there, begging him to let me go.

Eventually, I didn't even have the strength to cry anymore.

When he finally came to get me, one look at the state I was in and he wasn't happy. I didn't look like Bella anymore.

He forced me to eat whatever would put weight back on the fastest. Fried chicken. Cream cake. Fatty cuts of meat.

Every time, I gagged and threw it back up.

He didn't care. He'd grab me by the hair and shove it into my mouth anyway.

The more he forced it, the more violently I vomited until all that was left was stomach acid. Only then did he panic and rush me to the hospital.

I spent a full month on IV nutrition before I started to stabilize.

Near the end of my stay, he came into the room and, seeing me slowly recovering, let a rare look of relief cross his face.

I watched him dully, too exhausted to speak.

He took my chin in his hand. His voice was softer than usual. "I'm sorry. I went too far this time. I promise I'll never lock you up again."

I pressed my lips together and said nothing.

He leaned toward me slowly, lips almost touching mine. I turned my head away. His kiss landed on my cheek.

His brow furrowed. His voice sharpened with impatience.

"Don't you dare push me away. It's been four months."

I had no strength left to fight him. I just let him take what he wanted.

The hallway outside was full of people coming and going. He hadn't even bothered to close the door. Anyone could walk in at any moment.

He didn't care how exposed I was.

He was fully dressed in his suit. I had nothing.

One wrong person walking through that door and I'd have nothing left.

I gripped the cold metal railing of the hospital bed with both hands, bit down on my lip until it bled, and fought to hold back every sound trying to escape me.

Tears slid down from the corners of my eyes. All at once, I felt a wave of humiliation so deep it nearly swallowed me whole.

Time passed, and I grew weaker and weaker. I started coughing up blood.

After the stormy night, Alex had taken Bella on a month-long trip to Europe. When they came back and he saw me, his brow creased.

"Why have you gotten so thin?"

I smiled faintly. "Nothing. I've just been a little sick."

He blinked, then let out a cold laugh. "What kind of trick are you pulling now? Are you upset that I took Bella to Europe? So you're using this as an excuse to mess with me?"

"We both know you can't die. So how could you possibly be sick?"

I lowered my head. A bitter smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"If you say so."

He stepped closer, tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Is this because I've been neglecting you? Don't worry. I can spend more time with you going forward."

If he'd said that to me a year ago, I would have been overjoyed.

Now, I felt nothing.

I shook my head. "It's fine. Spend time with Bella."

His brow furrowed deeper. He studied me coldly, watching for a reaction. When I gave him none, he shoved me away with a sneer.

"Don't be ungrateful."

I stumbled and fell, my thigh catching the sharp corner of the table. The pain was blinding.

Alex moved like he might check on me then his phone rang.

Bella's voice came through the speaker, breathless and crying. "Alex, I was trying to make dinner for you and there was a fire my hand my hand really hurts!"

Alex's expression changed instantly. "Don't move. I'm coming right now."

He was out the door before I could blink. He didn't look back once.

I stared at his retreating figure, a hollow, mocking smile on my lips.

Same as always. The moment Bella called, I ceased to exist.

Half an hour later, his bodyguard came in and said Alex had sent instructions I was to be taken to the hospital.

At the hospital, I found Alex pacing anxiously outside the operating room.

He saw me and said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world: "Bella burned her hand. She needs a skin graft right away."

"You heal on your own anyway. Give her your skin."

My chest seized.

My immortality was already fading. How was I supposed to heal from a skin graft?

We were down to the last two months, and he still didn't care about me at all.

I smiled a bleak, hollow smile and reached for the last thread of hope I had left. "What if I told you I can't heal from this one? Would you believe me?"

Alex's expression tightened. He looked at me with barely concealed disgust. "What are you scheming now? If you don't want to help Bella, just say so!"

The last flicker of hope went out.

Alex overrode every objection and had me wheeled into the operating room.

They strapped me to the table. Several pairs of hands pressed down on mine. Cold alcohol swabbed across my bare, pallid skin.

I told myself not to be afraid. But my whole body shook uncontrollably.

I felt like a cut of meat on a butcher's block. Something to be used up and discarded.

"Should we use anesthesia, Mr. Alex?"

The doctor asked from beside him.

I looked up at Alex, a faint, desperate hope rising in me despite everything.

Without a second's hesitation, Alex said: "No anesthesia. Bella will scar if we wait any longer. Just do it."