Page 87
Story: Till Death and Daisies Bloom
The word 'bonding' hit me like a physical blow. After everything that had happened, they still expected me to commit to him for the rest of my life. Still thought they could drag me back to that life like nothing had changed.
"No." The word came out stronger than I felt.
Her eyebrows rose in perfect arcs. "Excuse me?"
"I said no. I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm not bonding with anyone. And I'm certainly not honoring any contracts I was committed to as a child."
The air around us seemed to thicken with tension. Her pleasant mask slipped, revealing the cold fury underneath.
"You don't have a choice in this matter," she said, her voice cutting through the evening sounds like a blade. "You can run, you can hide, you can play dress-up and pretend to be someone else, but in the end, you'll do exactly what you're told. Just like you always have."
The casual cruelty of it–the assumption that I was still the same frightened girl who'd bent to her will for thirty-five years–sparked something dangerous in my chest.
"Watch me," I said.
Xavier moved then, faster than I'd expected, his hand shooting out to grab my wrist. "Enough of this. You're coming home."
His fingers closed around my arm like a vise, and suddenly I was back in my cottage kitchen, his hands around my throat, the world going dark as he squeezed?—
"NO!"
The scream tore from my throat with volcanic force, echoing off the surrounding buildings and causing every head in thevicinity to turn our way. I twisted in Xavier's grip, my free hand clawing at his fingers, panic and rage warring in my chest as that familiar crimson energy began to build.
"Let go of me!" I shouted, loud enough that several people stopped walking to stare. "Get your hands off me!"
Xavier's grip loosened and I yanked myself free, stumbling backward off the bench. My chest heaved as I glared at all of them–my mother with her cold disapproval, Xavier with his predatory smile, the hired muscle pretending to look casual while blocking my escape routes.
"Help!" I called out, my voice carrying across the park. "Someone help me!"
Several people were converging on us now, concern clear on their faces. A woman with a stroller had pulled out her phone. A group of college students were advancing from the fountain.
And in the distance, I heard the sound of running feet and familiar voices calling my name.
"What's going on here?" A young man from the college group pushed forward, his friends flanking him. "Miss, are you okay?"
"She's fine," one of Xavier's men said smoothly, intercepting him. "Just a family disagreement."
"I'm not fine!" I shouted, my voice cracking with desperation. "They're trying to take me against my will!"
The college student's face hardened. "Hey, back off. She said no."
But even as more people gathered, I could see how this would play out. Xavier's men were professionals–they'd have some story ready, some explanation that would make this look like a domestic dispute rather than an attempted kidnapping. My mother would use her charm, maybe even some subtle magick to convince everyone I was having some kind of breakdown.
And I'd disappear back into the life I'd died escaping.
That's when the shadows deepened.
Not gradually, but all at once, like someone had dimmed the streetlights. The gathering crowd shivered and looked around in confusion, an inexplicable chill running down their spines.
"I believe," a voice said from behind Xavier's men, smooth as aged whiskey and twice as dangerous, "the lady asked you to let her go."
Pride materialized into the circle of light cast by the streetlamp and everything about him screamed apex predator. Gone was the vulnerable man from the café, replaced by something timeless and lethal that made the hired muscle take an instinctive step backward.
"Sir, this is a private family matter," one of them started, but Pride's gaze silenced him mid-sentence.
"Family?" His lips curved into a smile that held no warmth whatsoever. "How fascinating. And you are?"
"Her fiancé," Xavier said, puffing out his chest in that alpha posture that had once intimidated me. Now it just looked pathetic compared to the controlled menace radiating from Pride.
Table of Contents
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