Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
I was in love once. With a man who promised to save me. The first man to love me, to protect me, to touch me with a gentle hand. Damian. One of my father’s guards. He was assigned to watch me when I turned nineteen, and we fell fast and hard.
It was reckless, dangerous, but beautiful. He promised me an out. A way out of this world, a way to have the world I always wanted, with a man who wanted to protect, love, and cherish me.
Then he left. Like a thief in the night, he was gone, taking my heart, my innocence, and every bit of hope with him.
When I asked why I was assigned new security, my father said Damian was offered a new job. I didn’t believe it for one moment. Though no one knew about us, I think Damian ran off scared. That is the only thing that makes sense, knowing that if we were caught and tried to escape, he and I would be good as dead.
I feel him then, his touch, the whispers in my ear, the touches of passion and love in middle of the night. And it was love. At least he made it feel that way. Suddenly, that feeling is replaced with a chill up my spine when I feel someone behind me.
“Emelia. Stand. Now,” Nico says in a deep baritone, a quiet but powerful demand.
I wipe at my tears, refusing to let him see me mourning the most intimate loss I ever experienced. Standing, I right my dress, lift my chin, and square my shoulders. I turn, and he towers over me.
“What?” I sniff, doing a terrible job at hiding my emotions.
“I don’t want this either. Trust me. Marriage was the last thing on my agenda. But you have to learn to control these emotions you’re having.” He gestures at me up and down, and I feel the heat on my neck rising.
“These emotions? The ones where I despise you just as much as my father, you mean?”
He eyes me over. “You’ve known your destiny for long enough. I would have expected you to come to terms with it by now. We will get married in two days, and you will smile at that wedding. You will not show any disrespect toward me. We won’t become targets just because you can’t handle yourself.”
Just like that, I snap. I reach out and slap him so hard my hand burns. His head turns, but he doesn’t move it back. Nico stays looking to the left, his jaw tightening, and I brace myself for the impact from his retaliation. The slap was worth it. I hate this man.
“You ever lay your hands on your future husband like that again, and I will smack your ass so red you won’t sit right for weeks. Get your shit together. Are we clear?” He finally looks at me, and I gulp. The image of me over his knee and receiving painful slaps comes rushing in, and I want to slap him again.
“Whatever you say, husband.” The emphasis makes him smile at me evilly.
“Good. Now, back inside.”
We look at each other one more time, and it’s the start of a war between husband and wife. What a world, what a life this will be. I finally move and make a mental note to never forget the hatred I feel in this moment for this man.
WEDDING DAY
I look myself over in the mirror. My hair is styled in a slicked back bun that falls just above the nape of my neck. My eyelids are a smokey color, and my lips are stained a glossy red. I look like a stranger.
My dress, though I wish I was wearing it for someone I want to walk down the aisle to, is beautiful. It’s a mermaid gown, all silk with a lace overlay, off-the-shoulder with a sweetheart neckline, and the sleeves match the lace, connected by a thin piece of fabric under my armpit. The lace goes all the way down my arms and ends over the back of my hand in a point with a piece of elastic around my middle finger.
My brown eyes look large, and they’re filled with sadness. I don’t want to do this. I don’t. I look down at my white satin heels, and a tear falls.
“Shit,” I say under my breath.
Damian should be here. It should have been him. I hate him in this very moment for breaking all those whispered promises made in the meadow, the lies given against my skin as he kissed away the bruises my father left me.
“You can’t be crying. You will ruin your makeup, and if your father sees that, he will be very angry, Emelia. Please, let’s not set him off today. All types of men from other outfits are here, and we don’t need the scene. Can you just marry Nico with a smile on your face?” My mother enters the room like a mouse—quiet yet a disgusting creature you don't want to come near you. If I could, I would jump on a table and scream as I try to get away from her.