A Vow Of Hate

by James, Lylah

  A concerned look flashed over William’s face, but I was already walking away, my legs trembling.

  The moment I was in my room, I lunged toward the bed. But the wrinkled and torn papers on my mattress stopped me in my tracks. I had spent all morning reading through Arabella’s words again. Lost in her past, so inevitably intrigued by a ghost that I had forgotten just how tragic my own story was. With a deranged wail, I swiped a hand over my bed, shoving all of Arabella’s letters and poems onto the ground.

  I fell onto my bed, shoving my face into my pillows and letting out the scream I had been holding. I screamed until my throat was raw and dry, until I couldn’t breathe. How stupid I had been. How foolish I had acted.

  I could almost hear Arabella clucking her tongue at me in sympathy.

  Go away.

  I slapped my hands over my ears, shutting everything out. I was locked away in an ancient castle, with the ghosts of the past coming to haunt me. The old love stories didn’t survive in this cursed castle. How did I think mine would?

  Killian’s hatred for me was unstrained… boundless…it was a never-ending calamity of soul-wrenching malice and rage.

  Loving Killian Spencer was a death sentence. What we had, it was a catastrophe in the making.

  It wasn’t like I expected a happy ending, anyway.

  I didn’t deserve a happy ending. I was the villain, after all.

  A wretched scream left my throat, spilling into my pillows.

  My door creaked open and I sucked in a harsh breath, swallowing my cries before I peeked up from my pillow to see Killian coming into my room. Oh God, please. Have mercy.

  “Get out of my room, Killian.” I pointed at the door, my tone frosty and without any emotion. “You’re not welcome here.”

  “Why are you so angry, wife?” he taunted, closing the door with his feet. “You’re acting like your panties aren’t still soaked with your juices and that my hand wasn’t just up in there.”

  He brought his hand up to his nose, inhaling with a wicked grin. “My fingers still smell like your cunt, Beasty.”

  My nostrils flared at his crude words. The calmness that existed inside of me for the last three years was gone, disappearing with a single moment. I heard something snap inside of me. I felt it.

  “If you dare touch me ag–”

  Killian chuckled. “If I want to fuck you – whenever, wherever and however I want, I will. If I want to hurt you, I will. You are my wife, Julianna. You took vows. To love, to cherish and to obey… till death do us part.” His head cocked to the side, regarding me with such contained ease, it made me mad. “Do you remember my vows, wife?”

  He took a step further inside my room, but I was done. So fucking done with him and his games. I bounced off the bed, shaking with fury.

  I ripped through the laces of my bodice until my bra-clad breasts spilled out. His eyes flared with surprise and his jaw tightened, but I wasn’t finished yet. If Killian thought he had such control over me and my body, then I was going to prove him wrong.

  “Go ahead. Fuck me,” I hissed, my voice dripping with venom. “Do it. But know… I will never give birth to your child if you force me.”

  My words stalled him. I finally got a reaction, breaking through his cool composure.

  “You’ll hurt my child?” he said, his voice deceptively soft.

  I nudged my chin up, meeting his cold eyes without as much of a flinch. “Yes.”

  “You’ll kill another innocent life because of your selfish needs?” Killian sneered.

  I laughed bitterly. “No, I will save my baby from having to have a monster as a father.”

  That made him flinch and I realized that I had hit right where it hurt.

  I stalked closer, feeling truly brave for the first time since the accident. “And from having to live a life filled with vicious hate. No child wants to find out he or she was conceived through rape. I’ll be doing the baby a favor because you’re not worthy enough to be my child’s father.”

  We glared, fire burning between us until we stood in the ashes of what we used to be. His fists clenched at his sides, and then I saw the moment he chose to ignore my words and to turn the tables around again, in his favor.

  But it was too late, for I already knew his weakness. I might have been battle worn, bruised and bleeding, but I have had enough of being Killian’s plaything. Atonement or not.

  “Ballsy,” he mocked. “I have to say, I’ve missed your sharp tongue over the last week. You were too docile for my liking.”

  “You got what you wanted. You humiliated me over and over again–”

  “And yet you’re still standing here, with raging grey eyes and spitting fire.” He gestured toward me, where I was still in the state of half-undress.

  “Because you can’t break what’s already broken,” I snarled through my veil. “How many times do I have to tell you this before it gets through your thick skull?”

  He grinned, almost like he enjoyed seeing me snap.

  When he took a step closer, I put a hand out in warning. “Take another step toward me and I will scream.”

  Killian quirked an eyebrow in response. “Go ahead, Beasty. Be my guest. Scream as loud as you can, I dare you.”

  If I wanted to win this battle, I had to play dirty. Like Killian had done to me multiple times. He had pushed so many of my buttons, that I had come undone and I didn’t know how to stop.

  With jerky fingers, I laced up my bodice again. “You know what your problem is, Killian?” I said, my voice growing considerably soft.

  Surprise flickered in his eyes and I smiled. “You’re not tormenting me because you want to avenge Gracelynn’s death. No.” I shook my head with a bitter laugh. “You needed someone to bear the brunt of your anger and your own suffering. You used the fact that I was guilt-ridden over my sister’s death and because you can’t be happy in your life, you want everyone else around you to hurt. And I was the sacrificial lamb.”

  A shadow covered his face and I saw the moment his eyes grew darker, and for the first time, not with rage – but with something else. I had finally found the cracks through his cold, steel armor.

  “It’s not about vengeance any longer. It’s not even about Gracelynn’s death anymore,” I continued, pushing through because I was finally in his head.

  “It’s purely about your ego, your arrogance and your need to blame someone else over the fact that you failed at protecting your lover. You weren’t there when she needed you and that eats you alive. But you know what? Instead of trying to work on your own issues, you are so set on making me miserable, not realizing that it also makes you miserable. How fucking ironic, is it?”

  He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the hard gulp. “Are you done? Are you fucking done with your goddamn speech?” he barked, but I didn’t miss the quiver in his voice.

  Killian lunged forward with a snarl and slammed me into the wall. His body was on me, pinning me against the wall. I expected him to retaliate. I awaited his vicious words, but when his forehead dropped to mine and his wine breath fanned over my face, through the veil, my heart seized up.

  “I will never forgive you for this,” Killian whispered.

  There was the crack I had been waiting for and I finally sunk through, fighting my way deeper. Under his skin and into his flesh. I was in his mind, delving into his broken heart and holding his shattered soul together with threads around my fingers.

  I shook my head, a bittersweet smile on my lips. “You’re not a bad person. I remember the man my sister fell in love with and that man is still there, buried underneath all that ugliness. You just need to let go, to accept that Grace is dead and to move on, Killian.”

  Killian clenched his eyes closed and he took a shuddering breath, his chest pressing into mine. “I hate you.”

  “I know,” I murmured.

  His fingers circled my hips, digging into my skin but not to hurt. More like he was hanging on to me. Like he needed someone to ground him t
o the present, in this moment. “Grace would have hated the man I had become.”

  My chest ached.

  My hand came up to his shoulder, my fingers inching to the back of his neck and then his head. My nails scraped over his scalp, the softest caress, the way he liked it. “Grace would have forgiven you if you had promised her to move on.”

  His grip tightened on my hips. “She was the only good thing in my life,” he rasped.

  As if Killian had finally realized what he was doing, he stumbled away from me. I watched him run a hand over his face, his eyes squeezed shut, his expression pained.

  I reached for him, but pulled back right before my fingers could brush over his hand. He took a long, deep breath before his hand fell from his face.

  Our eyes locked.

  One painful moment.

  Two shuddering breaths.

  Three broken seconds.

  That was how long Killian allowed me to see what he had been hiding behind that cold exterior. The pure misery in his dark eyes.

  And then he blinked and it was gone.

  Without a word, he spun on his heels and stalked away. I watched him leave, feeling the most painful ache in my chest. My stomach was hollowed and the room swayed beneath my feet.

  “Julianna,” Killian said, one foot over the threshold of my bedroom and the other foot still inside. “Three days from now, our thirty nights are over. As per your compromise, we will fulfill the contract, however long it takes, and once you’re pregnant, we’ll go our separate ways, courteously.”

  There was no taunting.

  No sneers.

  No Beasty.

  My throat closed, but I found myself nodding. “Deal,” I breathed.

  Killian walked away without a second glance.

  Once he was gone, I crumpled to the ground and I let the tears fall, not holding back my cries. I let the pain wash over me, felt every crashing wave until my bones were shaking.

  I had finally accomplished what I had set out to do.

  I’ve torn through Killian Spencer’s façade.

  And now…

  He could move on.

  With someone other than me.

  But he’d find love again with someone worthy of him.

  And that was all that ever mattered.

  Since the beginning.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Killian

  The ballroom bustled with voices and laughter. I’ve heard over a hundred congratulations in the last twenty minutes, followed by handshakes and stiff smiles. The curiosity flickered in their eyes, but I did what I was best at.

  Eye contact was the easiest and most powerful way to establish yourself in a crowd of vultures and gossipers.

  Deliberate eye contact made the other person nervous.

  Steady eye contact put me in control – and that was exactly what I did. I dominated the ballroom with my gaze, unflinching, calm and contained. They’d smile shakily and look away first, yielding to me.

  At a very young age, my father had taught me how to place myself into political circles and how to make them bend to me and for my advantage. That was exactly why the Spencers were now one of the most influential families in the United States. My father was about to leave a legacy behind, a responsibility that now fell on my shoulders.

  A legacy I had to continue… and my heir would be expected to do the same.

  Bringing the champagne flute to my lips, I took a slow sip and nodded along at what Senator Richard Machias was saying. He was talking about a recent division in the Senate that had put all the members in a difficult position.

  Anything political was messy and chaotic. Some were spiteful and just plain nasty and then we had a bunch of them who just didn’t have any idea what the fuck they were doing.

  “Killian–”

  Richard said my name, but when the ballroom grew silent, buzzing with antsy energy, I instantly knew who had stolen everyone’s attention.

  I looked over to the entrance of the ballroom and my eyes found her.

  There was a breathless second.

  It confused me.

  The way my heart seemed to ache.

  Or the way my stomach dipped at the familiarity of this very scene.

  Before these uncalled emotions could take root, I shoved them away. Buried my feelings underneath my bones, because I’d rather not feel at all than feel too much.

  Julianna Spencer walked in, her shoulders set straight, her chin nudged up as she regarded the room with a regal look, a confidence I had never seen before. But only I saw the slight quiver of her hands as she buried them in her sleeveless, floor-length dress.

  Julianna wore a wine-red gown – with a sweetheart neckline that dipped dangerously too low. The satin bodice was a deeper color, cinched tightly around her waist in a corset style. The rest of the gown was flowy and heavy with multiple layers of tulles.

  Her hair was put up in a simple bun, with a few stubborn curls framing her face. The heavy diamond choker around her neck gleamed under the chandeliers. But it wasn’t her bold choice of gown or the expensive stones around her throat that caught my attention.

  It was the fact that Julianna had forgone her black veil.

  In its place, she had what appeared to be a custom-made lace and feather masquerade mask. The left side of her face was covered completely with the mask, while the other half of her face – only the right side of her lips and her jaw could be seen.

  Whispers filled the silence and Julianna took a shaky step forward. I placed my flute on the tray of a passing waiter and strode toward my wife, who clearly looked like she had been dumped in the middle of a warfare.

  The moment I reached her, her hand snaked out quickly and her fingers circled around my elbow, practically leaning her body weight into me.

  My brows furrowed when the top of her head reached my shoulders, instead of my chest. “Are you wearing heels, Julianna?” I asked slowly.

  She gave me a jerky nod.

  “Are you fucking serious?” I hissed. “I thought you couldn’t walk in heels because of your limp.”

  “I can’t,” she breathed. “But I’ve been practicing for the last six days. I didn’t want to be found lacking by these people. And apparently, heels are the way to go when it came to masquerade balls and gowns.”

  My arm curled around her waist. “For fuck’s sake. They’ll find a reason to talk, alright. When you faceplant on the floor and embarrass yourself.”

  Her hand tightened around my elbow. “You won’t let me.”

  No, I wouldn’t.

  Because embarrassing herself meant embarrassing me.

  I could feel the stares of the guests burning holes into my back. My head lowered and I placed a chaste kiss along the length of her unveiled jaw, her skin soft under my lips. “How do you expect to walk and dance in these heels?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know.” Julianna let out a small nervous laugh. “But I trust you won’t allow me to embarrass myself. So, dear husband, good luck.”

  “You. Are. Such. A. Maddening. Woman.”

  The right corner of her lips curled up. “And so, I’ve been told.”

  It was the first time I had seen Julianna without her veil. Granted the black mask covered most of her face, except the right side of her lips and jaw…

  But it was still something.

  Her lips were full and soft, painted a deep red. Familiar.

  From my peripheral vision, I saw both my father and Bishop Romano watching me carefully. “Your father is here.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Julianna?”

  “Just give me a second.” She took a deep breath and released a shuddering exhale. “Okay, I’m good now. Let’s show them how good of an actor and actress we are.”

  “Civil and in love,” I said.

  “Civil and in love,” she whispered.

  That moment in her bedroom had cleared the bridge between us. Julianna had been correct in everything she had said to me, practically spitting venom i
n my face and hitting me right where it fucking hurt.

  It should have made me more enraged, but it only doused the fire coursing through my veins. Sure, I still hated Julianna. She was still to blame for Gracelynn’s death and that would never not to be true.

  But for the first time in three years, someone other than Grace had looked into my soul and saw me for who I was.

  How ironic that that woman turned out to be the reason why my heart was dead.

  As much as I found vast differences between the two sisters, there were also too many similarities. How could two people be so different yet so alike?

  It confused me.

  It maddened me.

  But insanity was just another word for tragedy. Because no insane lovers ever ended up with a happy ending.

  And that was exactly my story – something half-written, left incomplete with the hopes that there would be a different ending in another lifetime.

  Julianna and I couldn’t ever be together. Our marriage began as a contract, stained by Gracelynn’s blood and crumpled under my need for vengeance. We were poison and there was no antidote. We were too toxic together for us to be anything other than what we were now.

  Husband and wife – in name only.

  But at least we had found a middle-ground. Something we both agreed on.

  An heir was needed.

  And once that job was done, we would go our separate ways.

  Until then, we would be… courteous.

  Julianna

  My fingers clenched around the curve of Killian’s elbow as he guided me around the ballroom. His long legs were taking shorter steps, purposely matching my own shaky ones. I leaned into his side, feeling the strength in his body and he took my weight without any complaint.

  Killian introduced me to the guests, one by one. All the names became jumbled in my head, until all I was doing was nodding and smiling along. Playing the perfect Spencer wife. My cheeks were starting to ache, but never once did my smile waver.

  Once we had made our introductions, Killian guided me toward the far end of the ballroom. Away from everyone. He grabbed a flute of champagne, handing it to me. Even through the simple black masquerade mask he wore, I saw the grim look in his dark eyes and his lips thinned. “How are your legs? You’re starting to limp more heavily.”