AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Not that it mattered—I was quite certain that I could wear a burlap sack and he would still have me, as was his right as my husband. He had said he wouldn’t ‘take what I wasn’t willing to give’ but I didn’t believe it for a moment. I was going to have to endure his big body on top of mine, spreading my thighs, penetrating me, filling me up…
I shoved the thought aside. Why had my mind showed me all that in such graphic detail? I wished I could forget it but the images were burned into my brain. There was nothing to do but get dressed and go out into the bed chamber and take my medicine, as my old nurse used to say. It would hurt and I would feel violated, but afterwards I would kill him—in that way I would have revenge for both myself and my brother.
Blindly, I searched through the drawers, looking for something to wear. All the night gowns were made of soft, silky, thin material not unlike the underslip I had worn as my wedding dress.
At last I decided on one the exact color of my hair and slipped it over my head. It had a deep V-neck but it was no worse than what I had worn to the wedding. The outlines of my nipples could be seen through the thin material—they were tight with fear.
The gown fell to my ankles and had sleeves that came down to my elbows. I wished for some kind of slippers but didn’t see any—my bare feet were cold despite the thick carpet. But then, I always had cold feet.
Telling myself there was no point in waiting any longer, I took a deep breath and left the closet. Then I unlocked the bathing chamber door, expecting that Liath would probably grab me the moment I came out. This was not going to be pleasant.
Bracing myself, I pushed open the chamber door only to find…
My new husband asleep in the middle of the huge bed.
9
I couldn’t believe it—was Liath really asleep? His deep, steady breathing seemed to indicate it was so.
I tiptoed into the room, closing the bathing chamber door quietly behind me. The glowing chandeliers which floated magically near the ceiling had dimmed their lights and the fairy crystals were singing a soft, sweet lullaby so high it was almost inaudible.
I crept to the huge bed, which was two steps up on a raised dais. Sure enough, Liath was sprawled in the center of the mattress, taking up most of it with his long limbs. His eyes were closed and he was breathing in a deep, regular rhythm that wasn’t quite a snore.
Then my eye caught on something else.
I hadn’t found any weapons I could use in the bathing chamber, but on the night table to his right, Liath had left the dagger he had worn to our ceremony. It was still in its sheath but the moonstones in the silver hilt gleamed in the dim light, almost as though they were calling to me.
I couldn’t believe my luck! Here was the perfect opportunity to take my revenge and I didn’t even have to endure the indignity and pain of a wedding night coupling first.
Stealthily, I crept around the bed, taking my time and walking as quietly as a cat. When I reached the right side of the bed, I stepped up onto the dais, my bare feet making no noise at all on the wooden steps. Once there, I reached for the hilt of the dagger. Keeping my eyes on my sleeping husband the whole time, I drew it silently from its sheath. It came out without a noise—a heavy, lethal weight in my hand.
I would have liked to simply lean over the bed and slit his thick throat, but alas, the bed was too big and I was too small. If I wanted to kill him, I would have to get up onto the mattress with him—there was no other way.
I had no idea how light or heavy a sleeper he was so I told myself I had to be prepared to move fast. Slowly, carefully, I climbed up beside him, expecting every moment that my movements would wake him.
And yet, he slept on.
He even continued to sleep as I leaned over him and put the shining blade to his throat. I knew I should kill him at once—slit his throat and leave him choking on his own blood. But I had never done any violence before. So instead, I took a moment to study him—my husband…my brother’s killer—as I tried to screw my courage to the sticking place.
His hair spilled like a mane of moonlight over the dark blue pillow almost obscuring his curving horns. His lashes were thick and dark—surprisingly long for a male’s, I thought. They lay like fans against his high cheekbones. He had a straight nose and full lips. It was a handsome face, except for the long, white scar that marred his deep gray skin. I wondered why he didn’t use his magic to heal himself and erase it.
