Page 23 of A Vow Of Hate


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Mistakes that could cost me dearly.

“Oh, right. I had to look pretty in your arms, smile at the camera, mingle with the people at charity events and parties, showing them just how happy our marriage is. A perfect lie. A pretty façade.”

“Yes,” he hissed. “Exactly that.”

“Well, you haven’t done your duties as a husband either,” I gritted, before I could swallow down the words. “So we are both failing at this contract marriage thing.”

His head finally snapped toward me, his dark eyes glaring. “It’s taking all my self-control not to wring your neck, Julianna Romano. But then again, I want your death to be slow and painful.”

“Spencer,” I shot back. “Mrs. Julianna Spencer.”

“You’re not my wife,” Killian spat.

“Too bad. We are legally husband and wife.”

He pushed his chair with a loud screech and stood up, rounding the dining table. He stalked toward me with long, powerful legs, his face dark with rage and his lips curled cruelly.

My back slammed against the pillar as he crowded into my personal space, pushing his chest against mine. I sucked in a harsh breath and my scars itched.

Kilian was too close.

I didn’t like it.

I couldn’t… breathe.

My heart hammered so hard I wondered if it bruised my rib cage.

His head lowered and his whiskey breath whispered over my lips, my black veil the only thing separating our mouths from touching.

He was too close…

His warmth surrounded me, his scent musky and unique… familiar. His eyes darkened, boring into mine.

Please. Don’t look at me so closely, for you’ll see my demons.

My sins.

My mistakes.

My lies.

My secrets.

“Our fathers expect us to consummate this marriage,” he said, his thick voice laced with an underlying threat.

“I know.” I buried my shaking hands in my dress.

“The mere thought of touching you brings me disgust, but I will enjoy breaking you.” His right hand came up. It brushed against my neck, almost tenderly, before he wrapped his fingers around my throat, squeezing in warning. “You will submit to me, Beasty.”

The venom in his tone pierced my heart, sinking its poison into my beating organ. The pain was… blinding and pure agony.

His thumb stroked over the healed scars along the left side of my neck. They were not as bad as my face and had healed into pink, faded lines. “Poor little Beasty,” Kilian taunted in my ear.

My breath stuttered.

My soul wailed.

My heart wrenched from my chest, laying at his feet, and he cruelly stomped on it.

Atone for your sins.

I reminded myself.

Beg for absolution.

I closed my eyes. I deserved this.

Salvation is in the hands of the one who you have wronged.

I inhaled a shaky breath, swallowing my cries and my injured pride. My hands landed on his chest and I gave him a hard shove, enough for him to let me go, and I stepped away from him, putting a safe distance between us. When we were too close, I couldn’t think. When he touched me…

Our eyes locked. “I don’t consent,” I murmured.

“You don’t have a choice,” he mused.

I gritted my teeth. “You’d take me against my will?”

Killian’s eyes darkened and his cruel face broke into a mocking smile. “I’m your husband. Your body is my right, Julianna.” He took a step forward and I skidded back, out of his reach. He advanced toward me again, like the predator he was. He was the master of the hunt.

And I was apparently his prize. I may be his trophy wife but I was not a martyr. I had been through worse and handling Killian’s hatred should be no trouble. Or I thought so.

When he was close enough, his arm snaked out and he grasped my elbow. Killian gave a hard tug and I stumbled into his chest. His head lowered and he pressed his cheek against mine, over my veil. His lips brushed against my right ear. “It’s my duty, isn’t it?” he rasped. “To consummate this marriage? To make you a wife, to make a mother out of you? My duty is to breed you and your job is to give me an heir, Julianna Spencer.” Killian spat out my full name like he was disgusted that his last name was attached to me.

“What century are you from?” I growled. “Definitely not this era. Rape is rape, whether you're my husband or not, you need my consent and I don’t give it to you.”

He chuckled heartlessly. “You’ll refuse me?” He grasped my left hand, his thumb stroking my wedding ring. He dragged the ring forward, over one knuckle, to reveal the imprint that the ring left. “You’ll refuse me while wearing my ring? My name is etched on your skin, Beasty.”

Killian’s name was engraved inside my wedding band, similar to how my name was engraved inside his. But he never wore his ring. The wedding band had left an imprint of his name on my ring finger.

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