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I had never been in a position that could truly cost me my life, with a man who was my husband but wasn’t.
For the first time in a long while, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to go about ensuring my life or what would happen to me in the next hour.
I drew wrapped my arms around my legs and curled up on the bed. My breath quickened as the familiar warmth faded like it had yesterday, replaced with the other familiar feeling.
Again and again, our vows echoed in my head, and all I could think was of how Gavril had broken almost every single one:
Did I come here freely and without reservation to give myself to him? No. I had been forced to marry the devil against my will.
Would he honor me as my husband for the rest of my life? No, he had defiled me and nearly broken me in his bed.
Slowly, my trembling hand reached down to my sore pussy, and I winced. There’s one vow he kept. And at the thought of our final vow, I felt a sting in my nose.
Tears came, transformed into sobs, and refused to stop until I was crying on my marriage bed as my husband’s seed slowly oozed out of me.
As I cried, a part of me wondered if Gavril could hear me on the other side of the door.
A part of me wondered if he cared.
