Page 114

She nods, and the wetness runs onto my skin.

“What we have was never meant to happen.” The backing of the branding iron should be heated by now. I pull it out and away from the flames. “Life is cruel. Fate is crueler. And you…”

“What? I’m what?” Her focus darts to the heated branding iron. She doesn’t put up a fight when I manhandle her to her hands and knees. She lets me, trembling and hot and a sin. A terrible one. “I’m what, James?”

Her hair hides her face, so I swipe it to the side and over her other shoulder.

Better. I tower over her. The branding iron is at a safe distance away from her face. “You’re stuck with me.”

Ophelia’s consent isn’t necessary. For thirty million dollars, I became the owner of the most beautiful, precious, addicting thing this world has to offer. A walking, talking, and fucking seduction.

Nonetheless, I search her eyes. Wait for them to land back on me.

“I’m cattle to you,” she says to herself, looking at me without really seeing anything. “Cattle.”

“No.” She’ll only ever be as deeply humiliated as I let her. Being compared to livestock isn’t my purpose. This branding means another thing entirely. “You’re mine. There’s a difference.”

“I shouldn’t be into this.” Her fingers claw at the floor beneath her. “I don’t even know you. You fucking bought me.”

“True.” I move the branding iron out of her sight, squatting next to her. “It changes nothing. I’ll never have a heart. You’ll always be drawn to the darkness. We were meant to find each other. We’re fucked-up and twisted, andwrong.Yet you can’t help but think I’m the right person for you.”

“You’re going to brand me, then.” Hope fills her eyes. My unhinged monologue did that to her. “Because I’m yours. Forever.”

“I can’t imagine a life without you any more than I can imagine one without air.”

Self-preservation screams at me for these things I’m telling her. I would’ve been better off if I had sent her to an undisclosed location. Destroyed the monstrosity my ancestors started without this mess, without ruining everything for both of us.

Impossible.

I watch her, her wide eyes and blood and tear-stained cheeks. Obsession and longing are written all over her face.

I don’t know how to love her. I only know how to never let her go.

“You’re serious.” She blows out a breath, turning, still on her hands and knees, until we face each other. “You’re actually serious.”

“I always am. I’m keeping you.” I get up and dip the branding iron a second time into the fire, where the backing with my initials on it heats up. “I’m marking you.”

Her gaze follows my movements. Her chin wobbles. “Don’t leave me in the cell after that. Please. This,us, it isn’t meaningless.”

“You’ll be chained again.” I’m being brutally honest. I’ll never lie to her. “Never in the cell, though.”

A promise like that should never put a smile on a person’s face.

Unless, of course, it’s my person. “Okay.”

That’s the last thing she says before I lift the branding iron and lower it to her left shoulder blade.

Ear-piercing screams. Shaking body.

She doesn’t fall to the floor. She’ll never fall when I’m here to catch her. I throw the branding iron into the fire. Wrap an arm around her middle and hug her to my body.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her dark eyes catching mine, glistening with tears. “Thank you.”

Before I get to tell her she’s welcome, Ophelia passes out.

I cradle her in my lap, stroking her cheeks and running my fingers through her hair.

She’s there, unmoving.