by Winter Fox
I didn’t trust Esther, so I kept my mouth firmly closed around her. If it bothered her, she didn’t show it. She would simply bustle into my room, and do what she had to; before wandering back out into the hall to get on with whatever else she was supposed to do around here.
This morning she had come in carrying a large zip-up clothing bag, which she hung up in my room. She was with another woman—that I didn’t recognize—who carried two boxes. Those were deposited at the bottom of my bed. When I raised an inquisitive eyebrow, she spoke brusquely.
“Your wedding dress. You’ll need to get yourself ready.” Then they both left.
“Bitch,” I muttered under my breath.
I climbed down from the windowsill, where I had been sitting reading one of the books that Emma had brought me. I had been starting to worry that I wouldn’t get to see the dress until the day.
It wasn’t that I cared how I was going to look. I couldn’t give a damn. But I needed to know that there was somewhere to hide a knife, until I was alone with Charles. I ripped the protective bag off of the gown, and smiled in relief. I was going to be wearing more clothes tomorrow than I had in the last two months.
“You’re going to look beautiful.”
I froze at the sound of his voice. I didn’t understand how my body could want him so much, just by hearing him speak. I touched a finger to the expensive ivory lace which layered over the dress. Then I turned to face him.
“I don’t care how I look.”
Adonis was standing in the doorway to my room. His muscled left shoulder was resting against the doorframe, and he had his arms crossed over his chest. He looked beautiful, but he also looked haunted.
“But you will still be beautiful.”
I nodded toward the dress. “I’m not an expert, but I reckon that dress cost more than I could hope to earn in a year, back home.”
He nodded, but said nothing.
“And when I wear it, I’ll feel more trapped than I ever felt when I was on the streets. It’s true, money doesn’t buy happiness. It just makes the cage shinier,” I said bitterly.
He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.
“You’re about to step into a very dangerous cage, Cara. You have to do what he asks of you, or he’ll have you killed without a second thought.”
“Perhaps being dead would be better,” I suggested.
He darted across the room with his trademark supernatural speed. Laying one hand on each of my shoulders, he pulled me close enough to him that I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.
“Except I don’t think you’d prefer the part where he gave you to Erebus first.”
I stiffened, and tried to step away. But he held my shoulders tightly.
“You must be so proud of yourself, master,” I hissed, bitterly.
His eyes darkened. “Honestly. I don’t think I’ve ever been proud of myself.”
The anger which I’d so desperately tried to keep a lid on, started to bubble up inside me.
“Well you should be proud. You once told me that you’d take my hope, and tear it from my body. You’d crush my faith with your bare hands, and shatter my trust completely.”
His face registered shock at hearing his own words repeated to him. “I did,” he admitted.
“Well, congratulations. You did all of those things, Adonis Olympus. And you did them so fucking well, that I am broken beyond repair. You should be so very proud.” The tears had begun again. I hadn’t realized that there were any left.
He stepped closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I tensed, and tried to move away from him. But he was far too strong. I managed to tip my head back so that I could look at him through my tears.
“I hate you.”
“I know,” he replied, before he leaned down and crushed his lips against mine.
I tried to push him away, and I tried to tell him “no” but my body defied me, and I melted into the kiss. Pressing my body against his.
He slid his hands down to cup my ass cheeks, and lifted me easily into his arms. I wrapped my own arms around his neck, and kissed him with an urgent depth. He started toward the bed, and I whimpered with need for him.
How could I need this monster?
He dropped me on my back, onto the bed, and stood over me as he urgently ripped his clothes from his body. I followed his lead, and slipped out of my flimsy robe. He was so hard, so ready for me, as he dropped his jeans, letting himself spring free.
I touched myself between my thighs, and wasn’t surprised by the wetness that I found there. It was time to accept the hard truth. This man was not my master. He was the king of my body, and I was pretty sure that I was the queen of his.
He dropped onto the bed on all fours, above me. He quickly found my slick, wet folds, and positioned himself at my entrance. I moaned in anticipation, throwing my head back against the soft bed.
“I will always hate you,” I cried.
“I know,” he growled, as he found his way inside me, and we both cried out in pain, pleasure and torment.
This time we weren’t making love—at least not in the traditional sense—we fucked like animals. He moved with a hard, and unforgiving speed within me, and I moaned and bucked. Grinding myself against him, begging him to take me deeper, harder.
When the first orgasm hit me with the weight of a freight train, I dug my nails into the flesh of his back, and tore stripes into his skin. He didn’t slow down; instead he sped up and as his body slammed against my throbbing clit, I found my pleasure dragged out into one long, torturous moment of delirium.
I pushed upwards, hard, and he let me roll him onto his back. Our bodies stayed connected the whole time, and we continued the relentless pace of our fuck, but with me on top. I raised myself up, then ground down against him, and it was his turn to throw back his head and moan.
His hands found my full breasts, and he grabbed them painfully tight. But that pain just served to send me over the edge again, and this time I held his gaze while I came. And when the pleasure distracted me from my rhythm, he pulled me down against his body, and took control back. Thrusting himself deeper inside me.
When he worked himself up to the point of his release, he shuddered, and like a striking viper he sank his teeth into my neck. The pain was sudden, and vicious, but it only made me race toward my own final release. And I understood then, that he was marking me. Just as I had marked him with my nails. We were both leaving the remains of ourselves on each other’s bodies.
Because when tomorrow came, the only thing that I would have left of Adonis would be the marks that his teeth had left on my neck. And the only reminder he would have of me, would be the torn flesh of his back.
His body stiffened, as his release came, and my own orgasm came alongside it. We both allowed our bodies to become lost in this final moment of our togetherness, and I drank in every pulse of pleasure, as I stared into his eyes.
When the moment was over, and all we could hear was the quick, sharp sounds of our own breathing. I leaned down, and laid my forehead against his.
I felt the weight of a thousand words settling between us. I knew he wanted to speak them, just as much as I did. I also knew that neither of us would say anything. What was the point? What would we say?
Suddenly, I was saved from my tormented thoughts, because he was pressing a cloth against my mouth. And I was so surprised and shocked that it took me a moment to fight against him. I was too late though, and the world faded quickly into darkness.
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was that it was almost dark. The second thing was the searing agony at the top of my left-hand thigh. I groggily pulled the blanket away from my naked body, and slowly lifted back the burn gauze which was pressed against my skin.
What I revealed, brought an uncontrollable sickness rushing to the back of my throat, and I leaned over the bed to expel the contents of my stomach. Every time I retched a new agony fired through my thigh. And for a time I was trapp
ed in a never-ending circle of pain and nausea.
When I had nothing left to leave my stomach, I sat up, and spotted a note on the bedside table. I swallowed as I picked it up and read the two words which were written in Adonis’ hand.
Forgive me.
I dropped the paper onto the bed, and turned my attention back to the burnt, and bubbled wound on my thigh. I was sure I could still smell the burning of human flesh in the room, and I gagged again. The light in the room was fading, but it was still just bright enough for me to read the word—no, the name—which I would carry on my body for eternity.
Olympus.
Forgiveness was not an option.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I woke on the morning of my wedding day, and I felt surprisingly calm. I checked the wound at the top of my thigh, and I was pleased to see that it had healed amazingly well already. I wondered if succubi healed quicker than ordinary women.
Thoughts of last night—of Adonis—lingered at the back of my mind. But I refused to dwell on it. I needed to be focused today, of all days. Today was the day that Charles Olympus would die. And if the opportunity to kill his son arose, then I wouldn’t turn that down either.
I opened the door to my bathroom and stepped inside. I quickly showered; before returning to my room to do my hair and make-up. I made myself look as good as I possibly could, for two reasons. Firstly, I wanted to try and seduce Charles. If he was distracted, then killing him would be a lot easier.
Secondly, I wanted Adonis to want me. It was childish, and pointless. But it was true. I wanted him to watch me marry his father, and know that he could never touch me again. Because, despite what he’d done to me. I was sure that he wanted me, just like I wanted him.
I stepped into the dress, and managed to fasten it myself; before turning to the bed, and rifling underneath the mattress. When my hand found the cold steel of the knife—which I had stolen from my dinner tray, earlier in the week—I pulled it out and hastily stashed it beneath the thick folds of heavy material.
I stepped into my ivory shoes, and I was ready. I looked at myself in the mirror, but didn’t recognize the woman who stared back at me. This Cara was cold, and her green eyes were dark. She looked haunted, in the same way that Adonis had looked haunted last night. She looked like she was out for revenge—a killer.
That won’t do.
I quickly called a weak smile to my face, consciously softening the look in my eyes. The result was much better, and just in time. Esther pushed open the door, and gestured at me to follow her.
“It’s time for you to get married.”
The wedding was to be held at Charles’s house. Which wasn’t ideal for me, because I had no idea of the surrounding terrain. Escaping was going to be tough, but it was also going to be made tougher by the swirling snow which had begun falling in thick flurries, as we drove to the ceremony.
When we arrived, I was quite surprised to see no other cars parked outside the front of the sprawling estate—if I had thought that Adonis’ house screamed money, then this house screamed world domination. Eric pulled the car up at the bottom of a set of steep steps, which were guarded by a pair of stone lions on either side.
Esther took me by the elbow, and started tugging me up the stairs. “Come on, you don’t want to be late.”
“Where are all of the guests,” I asked.
She huffed. “He’s marrying you for your womb, not love. All he needs is witnesses. Myself and his son will do fine for that.”
I bit my lip at the knowledge that Adonis was going watch me marry his father. That was just too weird—especially after last night.
We walked into a large entrance hall, and were greeted by a burly security guard, wearing a gun on his hip. For a fleeting moment I though he was going to search me, and find the knife. I held my breath in panic.
But then, he gestured to an open doorway. “You’re to go straight to the ceremony room.”
“Thank you,” Esther said; before she gripped my arm and hustled me through the door.
Charles stood at the far end of a sumptuously decorated room. One wall was made up of floor to ceiling windows, which were all draped with rich cream and gold fabrics. The floor was carpeted in a deep pile cream carpet, and the walls were lined by a set of high-backed golden chairs.
There was a man, who I presumed to be the vicar, or the priest—or whatever incubi used to marry them—standing next to Charles. Then my eyes fell on the suited man standing at Charles’s right-hand side. The man who had fucked me into ecstasy the night before. The son of the man I was about to marry. Adonis.
His eyes met mine for the briefest moment, but they were devoid of any emotion. I had no idea what he was thinking. Then before I knew it, I was standing next to the man who had killed my father.
“I wondered if the irony of a Christmas Eve wedding was lost on you, Cara,” Charles murmured.
I kept my eyes facing forward as I replied. “Seventeen years, to the day, since you killed my father.”
He smiled grimly. “Seventeen years since you stole half of my sight.”
“I’ll steal the other eye, given half a chance,” I murmured, and I thought I heard a soft huff of laughter from Adonis’ direction.
Suddenly, there was no time left for chatting. The celebrant, began reciting the words which would bind me to my enemy, forever.
“We are gathered here to join this man and woman in marriage.” He didn’t speak very joyously, and I suspected that he knew the real reason as to why we were here.
It was a very short ceremony. All I had to say was “I do.” Then before I knew it, we were pronounced husband and wife, and both the celebrant and Esther quickly left together.
Adonis stood unmoving, next to his father. He had the same haunted look on his beautiful face, as he had yesterday. He hadn’t said a word during the whole service.
Charles turned to his son. “Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”
“Congratulations, Charles.” He bowed formally, and looked to me. “And to you, Mrs Olympus.”
I wondered if he was referencing the brand on my leg, and my hands clenched into fists. But then, Charles laid a hand on my hip, distracting me from my anger.
“There’s a cake. Why don’t you go and cut it, wife? Then I do believe you and I will retire to the bedroom. No sense in waiting.”
I shuddered, and crossed the room to the cake stand, if only to get away from his disgusting touch. But if Charles had thought that I would be out of earshot over here, he was wrong.
“Is she branded?”
“Yes.” Adonis’ voice was flat.
“Why did I not get to witness it?” Charles snapped.
I picked up the silver knife which had been left for cutting the cake, and I looked back over my shoulder as Adonis answered his father. I saw him shrug dismissively as he replied.
“I did it in her room.”
“Where there are no cameras?”
Cameras? What the fuck?
“Exactly,” Adonis replied, in a bored tone.
“You put her to sleep, didn’t you?” Charles’s voice barely concealed his anger.
“I did, because I’m not a fucking monster, Charles.”
“You’ve been a monster for eighty-seven other women, Adonis. It’s a bit late to start getting a conscience now. Especially over my property.”
Adonis fidgeted a little. “I’ve kept my end of the deal, and you have what you wanted. May I leave now? I have a plane to catch.”
Charles looked back toward me, and I snapped my head back toward the cake.
“You see how eager he is to walk away, Cara? I don’t know what he made you believe. But he is a monster. He always was, and he always will be.” Charles was standing at my side now.
I turned to face Adonis. If I was totally honest with myself, I had believed—right up until now—that he was going to do something to stop this marriage. I think I had always believed that he was somehow going to save me. And now, I tru
ly realized that he was leaving, I was consumed by a heartbroken hatred.
“Good bye, Cara,” he said, sadly.
I narrowed my eyes, and I almost laughed aloud as I found myself wondering what I was supposed to call him now. He’d fulfilled his contractual obligations with me, and handed me over. He was no longer my master. I finally settled on a compromise.
“Good bye, monster,” I said.
Charles laughed out loud. Startled by the sound, I looked toward him. “Oh, Cara. Perhaps you and I might have more fun in store than I had expected.”
Not likely.
When I looked back for Adonis, he was gone.
I felt Charles lay his hands on my shoulders, and he breathed into my ear as he spoke.
“You’re mine now. If you’re well-behaved and do as I ask, then you and I may well get on. If you are disobedient, or if I get so much as an inkling of you plotting against me; then I will make you suffer.”
“Yes, master,” I ground out.
He took my hand, and led me to the door. “Now, come. It’s time you served your purpose.”
He led me up a wide staircase, which swept right through the center of the house. Once we reached the upper hall, he led me into a large bedroom, which was dominated by a dark, wooden four-post bed.
I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, turning to face him as he closed the door behind us.
“Now. You need to understand something, Cara. I want a child from you, and I want it quickly. I killed your father for the chance to put this baby inside you. It would have happened a lot sooner, if you hadn’t of run away.”
“And if I don’t let you?” I asked.
He took a few steps closer to me, and smiled dangerously. “I know you love my son.”
“I hate your son,” I countered.
“No. You don’t. You love him. Just as he loves you,” Charles spoke conspiratorially.
I blinked in surprise. “He left,” I stated.