Page 41 of A Vow Of Hate


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His chest vibrated with a sound that rippled across the bare skin of my arms. He looked like the reaper, coming for my soul and dragging me into the depths of hell.

Killian dragged the knife over my throat before pressing the sharp blade into my flesh, with the tiniest prick. “This is your jugular vein. I could easily slit your throat and end this but you don’t deserve such an easy death. I will make sure you suffer more than my Gracelynn has.”

I batted his hand away and the knife dropped to the ground next to our feet. His nostrils flared and I pushed at his chest, balled fists thumping over his chest. “You think I don’t know?” I cried out.

I pushed him again, hard enough he stumbled back two steps. “You think it doesn’t hurt me? You think it doesn’t pain me? Gracelynn was my sister before she was your lover. I knew her far longer than she was in your life. I loved her far longer than you have and I was there. I. Was. There. In that fucking car.”

I stabbed a finger into his chest with every punctuated word. I didn’t care that I was making the situation worse. I no longer cared that Killian would probably hate me for the rest of his life. I no longer cared about anything.

Because I had come to realize that no matter how hard I tried to fix things, the blood staining my hands would never let me be a better person, for my sins were too heavy to carry.

“For hours, I was trapped in that car with my sister’s dead body while it felt like I was burning from the inside out. I was alive, breathing, yet dying a slow, painful death. Look at me!” I screamed, pointing at my veiled face. “Look at me. These scars are my reminder every day. I was there… crying for her to open her eyes. Begging her to say a word. Pleading for her to breathe. Just one more breath.”

The ache in my chest intensified but I wasn’t done yet.

My fist slammed into his chest. “You aren’t the only one who lost someone that night. I lost her too. And I lost more than you will ever know.”

Killian surged forward and I tripped over my feet when he slammed me into the wall again, his hand going to the back of my head and his fingers gripping my hair.

“Shut up,” he snarled. “Shut the fuck up, you maddening woman.”

I let out a choked gasp and my vision grew blurry, but I blinked the tears away. Not today. His head lowered, so we were eye-level. He was so close; I could taste him on my tongue. His bitterness. His rage. His own suffering.

“Show me who you were before I broke your heart,” I breathed, the fight finally leaving my body. I wanted to see the man behind the mask. I wanted to see the man who was hurt, not the man who sought vengeance.

Killian’s fist tightened around my hair, his knuckles digging into my scalp. I didn’t even wince. It didn’t even hurt. Nothing hurt anymore.

“He’s dead,” he growled in such an abrasive voice, and I trembled.

I gave him a bittersweet smile. “I don’t believe that.”

His eyes darkened and his lips twitched with a cruel smile. He brought our faces closer, his breath fanning over my lips through the veil. “I’m the monster you created, Julianna.”

Killian released me and took a step back.

“If you’re looking for something out of this marriage, Beasty… then know this, remember this, we are fire and water. A story laced with sin and resentment. We are incapable of being anything other than what we are now. Fire burns; water drowns. And that’s exactly what we are – a catastrophe.”

My knees weakened.

Killian’s eyes roved my veiled face. For a simple second.

My breath lodged in my throat.

He spun around and walked away.

I slammed a hand over my mouth and my legs gave out. I sunk onto the ground and let out a silent scream into my fist.

Our story was made out of broken bones, built on a splintered spine; the pages stained with blood and words cursed with devastation.

We were battle worn.

And perhaps… if we had met in another lifetime, our story would have been different. Less grief and more tenderness.

Perhaps in another lifetime…

We would have been just Killian and Julianna – without a past to hold us back.

Without tragedy in our veins.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Julianna

Dear Husband,

Some days, loneliness claws at me.

What I feel for you falls somewhere between unyielding loyalty and a pain that withers my heart.

Whether it is love or whether it is pain, I am filled with only one thought.

I miss the taste of you, I miss the warmth of your embrace at night, and I miss your unloving eyes and your indifferent touches.

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