"Indeed, they did." He paused by the window, glancing out at the gray cityscape before turning back to me. "Are you nervousabout tomorrow? It's natural, of course. Most brides experience some... trepidation."
Trepidation?
No, Thayden, trepidation is what you feel when you’re scared of spiders and you see one crawling up your arm.
This was not fucking trepidation.
This man had threatened my family and was holding their lives above my head as leverage.
But I kept my expression carefully neutral. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be able to see the truth beneath—that I wanted to kill him. "I'm fine."
"Good. That's what I like to hear." His smile widened. "After all, we wouldn't want any last-minute... complications. Not when your family's wellbeing depends on everything proceeding smoothly."
There it was. The reminder wrapped in a yard of silk but still sharp as the tips of briar thorns.
He moved closer, abandoning all pretense of casual conversation.
"You do understand what tomorrow means, don't you, Elariya?" His voice dropped lower, more intimate. "You'll be mine. Completely. Ineverysense of the word."
I took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. The vanity table pressed against my spine.
"I understand the terms of our arrangement," I said carefully.
"Our arrangement." He chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. "Such a clinical way to put it."
Before I could respond, his hand shot out and captured my arm, fingers digging into the silk of my sleeve. He pulled me forward with surprising strength, hauling me flush against his chest.
His other arm snaked around my waist, trapping me there.
"Let me be clearer," he murmured against my ear, his breath hot and unwelcome. "Tomorrow, you become my property. My wife. Mine to do with as I please."
"Let go of me." I pressed my hands against his chest, trying to create distance between us. But he was stronger than I'd expected, all lean muscle beneath the refined exterior.
I pushed harder, twisting in his grip. "Thayden, release me. Now."
But his hold only tightened, fingers bruising where they gripped my arm.
With his other hand, he grabbed my face and held me there, so when he crushed his lips to mine, I couldn’t move.
I struggled to break away from him, but he was too strong.
He kissed me, and it felt like being poisoned. Like death had come for me and sealed my fate.
How twisted that Wolfe kept associating himself with death, yet I felt alive when he kissed me. He’d been the absolute antithesis to Thayden.
My despicable husband-to-be pushed his tongue against my lips, demanding entry to my mouth, and that snapped me. Using all my strength, I shoved him hard and slapped him across the face.
The sound cracked through the chamber.
For half a heartbeat, he pulled back and simply stared at me. Then something ugly shifted in his expression.
His jaw tightened, and a low snarl tore from his throat before his hand came at me fast and brutal. The back of it struck my cheek, snapping my head to the side.
A cry tore from my lips. Pain burst across my face as I stumbled and fell, my shoulder hitting the marble floor hard enough to rattle my bones.
I barely had time to breathe before his hand fisted in the front of my gown, and he hauled me upright with a violent jerk that stole the air from my lungs.
“You little bitch. You forget yourself,” he hissed.
