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The ground swayed underneath my feet and my bodice seemed to be squeezing my chest. I fought to inhale a desperate breath. My scars started to itch under the masquerade mask, my skin practically crawling. Sending the guests a tight smile, I excused myself and made my way out of the ballroom and into the dark, quiet corridor.
My eyes closed in relief and I inhaled shakily, my hand going to my chest – where a fathom of an ache seemed to burrow itself under my flesh.
A rough hand grasped my elbow and I gasped, my eyes flying open as I was slammed into one of the concrete pillars. A shadow towered over me, imposing and dangerous. Fear slithered down my spine until I caught a familiar spicy and musky scent.
My gaze roved his brutally handsome face. The masquerade mask was missing and now, I could see his dark eyes clearly.
“Killian,” I breathed.
“For the longest time I had wanted to hear Grace play the cello, but she was always too shy.” His chest danced against mine as he rumbled with a low, dangerous growl. “She said her sister played far better than her. I begged her, cajoled her to play for me, but she never did. Grace said she’d play it on our wedding day and I waited patiently for that day, only for it to never come. And here you are.”
My breath escaped me with a sharp exhale and my hands landed on his chest, trying to push him away – or maybe, to pull him closer. To wash away his pain and let it bleed into me.
“You’re taunting me,” Killian hissed before he flung himself backward, dragging himself away from me. “Tonight was your payback, wasn’t it? You must have known how much I wanted Grace to play the cello for me. She must have told you. You knew this and yet, you did it, on purpose. You. Taunt. Me. With your eyes. With this goddamn cello, reminding me of what I’ve lost.”
“No,” I choked. “That’s not true.”
His eyes blazed with rage. “Liar.”
He paced in front of me and I watched him drag a hand over his face, almost like he was fighting for control. The truth was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it, tasting its bitterness. I shook my head, strands of my hair coming undone from their pins.
“You told me once that Gracelynn would have hated the man I had become. Well then, let me ask you this.” Killian sneered, taking a step toward me, forcing me to move backward. “Would Grace ever forgive you? For taking her life? For taking away her chance at happiness and love?”
No.
Please.
Don’t.
His brutal words cut through me, as if he wanted me to bleed – like he was desperate to make me hurt. My chest ached and I breathed at him to stop. I looked for an escape but there was none. I was trapped against the wall. It hurt. But he wasn’t done yet.
“Don’t you think… Gracelynn would have hated the woman you have become?” he snapped, throwing my words back at me… so carelessly, so heartlessly. “You’re not the Julianna your sister loved either. How hypocritical of you to judge me when you’re the exact same.”
With a growl of fury, I lunged sideways and grabbed the sword – a rapier – off the wall. Killian came to a halt when I pointed the tip of the sword at him.
He grinned, almost cruelly. “What are you going to do with that, Beasty?”
“I thought we agreed to be courteous with each other,” I clipped
He straightened to his imposing height, his jaw clenching. “You pointing a sword at my face is most definitely not courteous,” he said, as if he didn’t just insult me, didn’t just throw such vicious words into my face without any care.
My fingers shook around the handle of the sword, but I didn’t let it deter me. I didn’t let Killian’s rigid expression stop me because that was exactly his game. Back and forth, playing with my feelings – being a monster underneath that gentleman façade.
“You started it. With your taunting and mocking words. When will you ever stop throwing my sister’s death in my face, Killian? I thought we were way past that.”
Killian took a step forward, without any care that I currently had a sharp sword pointed at him. The tip of the double-edged blade brushed against the middle of his neck. My eyes widened when it pricked his skin and a drop of blood trickled down his throat.
“You drive me utterly mad,” he said, his voice softening in such a deceptive manner. It was enough to make me waver and that was my mistake.
Killian surged sideways; his arm snaked out and I didn’t even have a chance to blink. He grasped my elbow, tugging me toward him and spinning me around so quickly, I gasped. My heels slid on the floor; my back collided into his chest and his hand grasped mine, the one holding the rapier until the sharp blade was no longer pointed at him. But the side of the sword was now against my throat, while he trapped me against his chest.
