Page 116 of Lethal King

I guess she’s not so fragile, after all.

“Bastard,” she wheezes.

“Bitch,” I retch back.

Leaning forward, I gather enough momentum to shover her back against the wall. The ceiling shakes, but the cloth stays wrapped tightly around my throat.

I’m starting to see black spots.

No. I won’t fucking go out like this.

“Listen carefully,” Rozalia rasps into my ear. “These are going to be the last words you ever hear: this is what happens to any man who tries to marry me.”

My face is on fire. My heart pounds against the inside of my chest. There’s no room for lies or half-truths anymore.

“I don’t want to fucking marry you,” I croak. “And I never did.”

To my surprise, that’s what finally eases her grip.

The lapse only lasts for a split second, but it’s enough. Shoving my glass shard beneath the slightest opening, I begin to cut the cloth from the inside out.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Rozalia asks, still seemingly starstruck.

“I said. I. Don’t. Want. To. Marry. You.

With blood gushing down from my neck, I call on all my strength and push.

It’s enough to send the glass shard cutting through the thick wound fabric strangling me.

I fall to the floor, gasping for air. But there’s no time to rest.

Spinning around, I catch Rozalia’s wrist right before her nails can dig into my eye sockets.

“I’ll never marry anyone,” she screams, her bright green eyes wild with bloodlust. “Let alone someone as despicable as you.”

“Are you fucking deaf?” I growl. With a firm twist, I whip Rozalia onto her back and roll on top of her. “I don’t want to marry you, idiot.”

She flails wildly under my grip, but it’s no use. Even with all the blood dripping from my hand and throat, I still easily overpower her.

“Liar!” she wails.

There’s a pain in her voice that cuts me harder than any glass ever could.

I can’t help but remember what Gabriel told me. About how she was sold to protect her family. About how it didn’t matter. About how she lost everything at such a young age.

About how she kept losing everything.

“I swear to god, if you don’t calm down…” I growl.

Still, the glass shard slips from my hand. Instead, I find myself wrapping a bloody palm around her throat.

“Kill me?” Rozalia spits. “Is that what you want to do? It’s always the same with you men. First, you want a wedding, then, if you can’t get that, you want a funeral. Well, go ahead, put me in the ground, you fucking—”

I shut her up with a kiss.

I don’t know what I’m thinking. Whether I’m delirious from blood loss or a lack of oxygen, it doesn’t matter. My mind is blank as I shove my lips against Rozalia’s and hold them there until she stops struggling.

Even through the metallic tinge of blood, I can taste her rosy perfume.