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The ache in her voice claws at my soul, but she has to say these things, has to experience the pain so she can grow past it.
“Of course we love you! You’re being dramatic. We’ve always loved—”
“No. You used me. You kept me isolated. I had no friends. I had tutors and lessons. A princess in a tower. The only one who’s ever truly loved me—” Her gaze snaps to mine, and I feel as though my heart might burst. “Is the man I’m going to kill when I get around to it.” She shoots me a teary smile that breaks down every remaining wall between us.
“Darling.” Her father takes a step toward her.
She raises her gun. “No more pet names. No more pretending. You two are no longer my parents. I am a Knight, and I will forever be a Knight. If I ever see you again, you’ll be on the receiving end of a bullet.”
Her mother winces and shrinks back.
Her father sighs, then motions for the hired guns to approach. “You’re coming with us whether you like it or not.”
“Wrong.” She points the gun at his face. “I only go where I want. I onlydowhat I want. No one forces me. Not you and not them. And right now I want to pull this trigger.” She steps forward, her sadness breaking into a smile that makes my blood run deliciously cold. “I’m nuts, remember? You’ve been telling Luke that I’m crazy and that’s why he should cast me aside. And you know I have a penchant for violence.” She steps forward again, and her parents huddle against each other. “I’m that crazy violent girl, the one you had to keep locked away. And here you are, pissing me off. You know what I’m capable of.”
“Grab her!” Selene motions toward the armed men. “We’re leaving.”
They move toward her. The wrong decision.
I simply raise my chin.
The windows shatter as a gun roars, taking down first one hired gun, then the other. They fall, blood pooling from the headshots Clayton delivered from the roof of the east wing.
Selene screams. Cassandra smiles.
I pull my own gun and point it at the Carlisles. “Come here, my little vixen.” I hold my free hand to her, and she runs to me and takes it. “Put the safety back on,” I whisper in her ear. “I’ve got this.” Her safety is the most important thing, and though I’m proud of her, I don’t want her to have any accidents.
“Good.” She gives me a relieved finger squeeze and thumbs the safety back into place.
“Selene, Marty, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” I motion them toward the foyer with the pistol.
“Not without my daughter.” Selene’s gaze is still on the bodies, her tone shaky.
“She’s not your daughter anymore. She’s free, and she’s chosen me. Take a good look at these men.” I point to the gore and hope none of it splattered the Klimt I bought for my vixen. “Clayton is still on the roof, his crosshairs on your face, Selene. All I have to do is shrug, and your head will be splattered all over Marty. Hell—” I grin. “I could sneeze on accident, and then,boom, you’re done.”
Selene lifts her gaze to the shattered window. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.” I squeeze Cassandra’s hand. “And I’m rather inclined to do it anyway, given how you’ve treated my wife. Allowed her to be preyed upon, forced her to stay locked away, tried to clip her wings.” My anger grows with each sin I recite.
“Come on.” Marty’s wide, buggy eyes keep flicking between my gun and the east wing. “We need to leave.”
“Don’t come back.” Cassandra steps forward. “Ever. If you do, I’ll kill you.”
Selene’s face finally crumples, and she clasps her hands together. “Sweetheart—”
“Last chance.” She lets go of my hand and strides to the writing desk in the corner. Resting the gun on the table, she instead picks up a sharp pencil and turns toward Selene. “Test me, Selene. Maybe this time I destroy the artery and watch you bleed out.”
“Cassandra, no!” Selene backs away and almost trips over Marty.
“Go. Never come back.” My vixen brandishes her pencil and stalks them into the foyer, where they take to their heels and run to the front door. “I’ll kill you, I swear! You know I’m not bluffing,” she bellows and haunts their steps, me at her back as they jump into their car and their tires screech down my drive.
She stands with her head high and back straight. Cassandra vanquished her demons, and she did it with total control, total confidence. I marvel at the woman before me, the violent, turbulent, magnificent bride that is everything I ever wanted and more.
She turns to me and twirls the pencil between her knuckles, a mischievous smile on her plump lips. “I suppose the pen is mightier than the sword after all.”
“When it’s wielded by the right person, yes.” I tip her chin up and kiss her hard, staking my claim. I want to tell her how proud I am, but I let my body say it instead as I lift her, carry her back into our house, and kick the door shut behind us.
EPILOGUE
