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“Well, I do not wish to die.”

He regarded me with narrowed eyes. “No, that I know. So you have decided I am the better choice.”

“Do not flatter yourself.”

“Then say it, Evie.” He moved closer to me, ever closer, until he was looking down at me, the firelight catching his blue eyes. “I want to hear you say it.”

“You know what this will mean, don’t you?” I laughed incredulously. “My god, Azriel, you are going to ruin me. You are going to ruin us.”

“I don’t care.”

“You will when you are cast out from all good society.”

Azriel shrugged. “There is no good society, Evie, and I have never sought its good opinion.”

“But… I mean, how do you even intend to make this legal?” I was scrambling now, my will to escape screaming at me to find something, anything, to make him rethink his plan. “You cannot marry me, not for two years. I am not permitted to take another husband in my mourning.”

“You will come with me to the civil register and there we will be wed.” Azriel put his glass down on the side table. “The clerk owes me a large debt, and is not in a position to refuse. He may fear for his reputation, but will not refuse me.” He spread his hands with a satisfied smile. “So you see, Evie. There is no impediment to our marital joy. Now.” He took another step closer to me, so we were almost touching. “I want to hear you say it.”

I glared at him, clutching the glass so hard I thought it might break and shred my hand to bloody ribbons. He had thought of everything. He had planned it all out. And there was truly no escape for me. Finally, amidst a storm of butterflies in my stomach and bile rising in my mouth, I gave him a brief nod.

“I accept your proposal.”

Azriel threw his head back and laughed out loud. “My proposal?” His eyes were sparkling when they landed back on me. “What a demure way to put it.”

“Your threat, then.” I closed the distance between us, jutting my chin out defiantly. “I accept your threat, and your violence, and your brutality.”

The glass fell from my hands and shattered as Azriel seized my chin in his hands and backed me into the wall beside the fireplace. I stared at him wide-eyed, full of fear and fury, wanting to run and tear his eyes out at the same time.

“Say you will be my wife.” He squeezed my face hard enough to leave a bruise. “Say it.”

“I just did.”

“Say it.”

I tried to shake my head, to push him away, but he held fast. “No.”

“Fucking say it!” He bellowed in my face with such ferocity I was sure a servant would come running at any moment.

“I will be your wife!” I scratched and clawed at his neck. “You’re hurting me! Let me go!”

He brought his mouth down on mine, his tongue forcing my lips apart and muffling any sounds of protests I made. He consumed me hungrily, violently, and it wasn’t a kiss so much as a claim. Another seal of his ownership on my body.

When he finally pulled back, loosening his grip on my face, we were both panting. He trailed a hand down my bodice, gripping my waist, and lay his forehead against mine.

“You’re mine now, Evie.”

“I will never be yours.” I shoved him away from me and headed for the door. “And don’t think I’ll marry you in a pretty white wedding dress either.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

I should have run. I should not have stopped. But the tone in his voice was so lethal, that it sent shivers down my spine, and froze me to the spot. It was all I could do to turn and face him. His eyes were dark with desire.

“I am going back to my room. You have what you wanted.”

“Do I?” He took a few steps towards me. “You are mistaken.”

I held out a hand, foolishly, as though that would ward him off. “I do not know what you think you may have this night but-”