Page 38

KANE

I don’t know what type of spider bit me, but my dick is still hard.

Even with the sight of the fuckers in front of me clearing their plates of human flesh, it won’t go down.

Four helpings they’ve had. Four fucking servings of a human being have been consumed without any of them throwing up, all while my dick has been hard.

Lennox doesn’t touch the wine, neither do I, and I move Delilah’s glass away from her untouched plate. The sickly sweet stench of the thin slices of meat fill the entire cathedral, turning my stomach as it remains untouched in front of us both.

I don’t let go of her hand or reduce the pressure of my hold. As soon as they’re drunk, we’ll run. We’ll get the fuck away from the cannibals and her parents. Each guest has had at least five glasses of wine since I’ve begun counting, but they don’t slur their words.

Helene uses the lion head of her stick to knock the edge of the table.

Without uttering a word, Rowan stands, and the masked guards clear the room.

They roll out the carcass, only to wheel in another structure.

This one is made of wood with a raised bed in the middle.

It looks like a medieval gurney as it rolls through.

I lean forward to make out the design on the posts.

Serpents are carved into the wood, winding their way up to the top of the post, where it ends with its open mouth exposing the fangs.

When the guards step back from the altar, I notice the curved horns on the other end of the posts.

Harkin politely tucks his chair back under the table before he comes to stand behind Delilah. He places his hands on her shoulders as Rowan says, “Now, it’s time for the entertainment.”

My fingers tighten around hers, and I look at Lennox. The motherfucking cunt avoids my eyes. He allows this sick fuck to pull the strings, sitting at the other end of the table like a little fucking bitch.

Delilah’s arm shakes, her nails digging into the back of my hand as she screams, “No! Get the fuck off me!”

Unbothered, Harkin roughly drags her backwards as he wraps his arms around her chest, lifting her off her feet.

The chair slams into the ground as I abruptly stand and use her arm like a rope in tug of war. Meeting his eyes, I grit, “Take your hands off my wife.”

He scoffs and the masked guards get closer, the crackle of electricity moving with them. Sharp spokes dig into my ribs, transferring the current from the cattle prods directly into me. My muscles spasm and my hand opens without my control.

“Get the fuck off!” Delilah screams, kicking out as multiple points of the cattle prods dig into my side, my back, and my nape. “Kane!” she shouts through her tears.

I try to push forward but the masked cunts get closer, circling me and pushing the cattle prods into my chest. Black spots dance at the edge of my vision as she’s roughly slammed to the bed of the new structure.

She continues kicking and spits into her father’s face.

“Don’t fucking touch me. You sick fuck!” Her fight lifts her back off the bed as the heel of her bare foot connects with Harkin’s thigh.

My pretty girl.

She continues screaming profanities as her father forces her down onto the bed.

Delilah’s head sits between the long winding serpent posts, and her father pulls on the cuffs bolted through the wood.

He secures her wrists to the top frame as she kicks out again.

Her foot slams off the ram’s horns at the other end, and the sharp points curve outwards, catching the sides of her feet.

The kicking and screaming doesn’t rock the structure or move it in any way as the crossed base remains flat against the stone altar, with a large lion’s head carved into the middle of the wooden base.

“RUBY!” she screams in anguish. “KANE!”

Once she’s held in place, there’s another tap, and the guards take a collective step back from me, taking away the current.

They take another step when the tap comes again.

Rowan walks around the table. He stops in front of me, then puts his filthy fucking hand on my shoulder.

Squeezing once, he smiles from ear to ear as he says, “You have a choice to prove she’s your wife.

Or her father can pass her from his family to ours, himself .

” He turns his head slightly and extends his voice.

“You’d enjoy the repeat, wouldn’t you, Harkin? ”

They both chuckle, in that way that sleazy old fuckers do when they have an inside joke at the expense of someone with less authority than them.

Delilah screams out in pain. And I freeze.

I fucking freeze, just watching as her father grips the hem of her dress, then pulls until the fabric tears through the middle to her chest. Her arms are restrained, preventing her from covering her naked body as the lace hangs on by a few threads at the neckline.

She doesn’t have anything on underneath the dress, and he exposes her further by grabbing her ankles and wrapping the leather on the other side of the support around them.

Her knees are bent, thighs apart, for everyone to watch her.

Her face is red, matching the rest of her body, as she stares with wide, horror-filled eyes at the guests seeing her.

Humiliation. They’re going to make her feel the humiliation of not being allowed control and knowing that there are witnesses.

It gets worse as she plants her feet against the horns and tries to break free from the restraints.

All it does is expose her even more. Rowan pulls me forward.

I stumble over my own feet, but I don’t fall. He pushes harder against my back and repeats, “It’s all your choice. Who do you want her to feel?” He pushes again, physically and verbally. “That sweet girl will be welcomed, by you,”—another push—“or by her own father. Choose.”

Lead fills my feet as I walk forward, away from his hand and coaxing, to Delilah.

She lifts her head, continuing to fight all while staring right at me.

Staring at me to help her. Staring at me like I’ve done so many times, when she would keep me company and float through the walls of my cell.

But unlike her, I don’t leave. I walk up the two steps to the altar as her father steps aside.

He stands sentry at the top of the gurney, to the left of the serpent.

The stick taps against the floor and Helene slowly makes her way to stand at the other side.

There’s a foot of space between them and the structure, but they watch.

The fucking cunts watch , impatiently, as Delilah begs, “Kane? Please?”

I stand between her spread thighs, between the horns, and look down at her. There are tears escaping as she thrashes. Her bottom lip wobbles. Her eyes are brighter because of the tears, and the fear I caused is nothing against the terror making her pale now as she hoarsely prays, “Please don’t.”

Something brushes my belt. I pull my hips back as I’m forced to look away from Delilah. Rowan stands beside the horns, his hand outstretched towards my dick, and he says, “You seemed to be struggling, nephew. The venom will help you if she’s outgrown your tastes.”

Delilah whimpers, squirming away from him as Lennox takes the other side. He’s the only one who doesn’t look at her. He turns, giving her his back as he looks out at the guests who are still fucking talking, drinking, and laughing .

Helene taps her stick against the floor, showing she’s worse than the others with the sheer glee on her face. She offers, “Her father is here to give her away to her new family.”

“No one fucking touches her,” I snap. “Or me. Move the fuck back.”

They take one step back. I can’t stop them looking at her without doing what they want. So, I fold over her and hold my weight up with my hand wrapped around the frame. Delilah’s whimpers brush my cheek as I slowly lower my zipper. The entire room falls silent.

“Look at me,” I whisper. “Only me.”

“Kane,” she sobs as her face splinters. “Please.”

Metal gliding on metal makes us both look up towards the sound.

Harkin unsheathes a small blade, then places it flat against his palm.

Closing his fingers over it, he drags it down in a purposeful line.

Helene does the same with another blade.

His has the ram’s horns coiled around the handle while hers is adorned with a lion’s head in the center of the handle, its mane fanning out into the engravings etched into it.

Both of them hold their bleeding fists over each serpent’s mouth. The wooden structure must be hollow, because their blood travels through it and leaks down to stain Delilah’s dress. The white lace soaks up every drop and it runs down her ribs to pool under her hips.

I lower my head, so my lips are directly above her forehead, press a gentle kiss to her hairline, then whisper, “It’s just me and you. Focus on me, my pretty girl.”

She sobs louder as I softly trail my lips across her skin to her temple. My tongue pokes out, tasting her tears, and I line up at her entrance. She doesn’t—can’t—fight me as she begs, “Please, stop, no!”

“It’s just me, your Kane. We never left the cabin.” I press my lips to her cheek and inch forward. “You’re looking at the stars with your head out of the window.” Another inch. “Just like you wanted, I’m claiming your pussy as mine while they sparkle. Remember, my beautiful Delilah?”

“Ye—yes,” she stutters around her sob as I push deeper into her. “Just me and you.” She wildly shakes her head, flinging her tears off her skin as she cries louder, “Please! Stop!”

“Shh, you’re mine.” I hold each of the serpents bracketing her head and lower my hands so they’re closer to hers. “Hold my wrists, koukla mou.”

The leather cuffs rattle through the bolt as she wraps her fingers around my wrists, still begging me, “Kane, please.”

More blood flows through out of the small holes between the engraved scales in the serpent as I fully bury myself inside her.

Her tears are on my lips, but I need more, so I bite her cheek, sucking them into my mouth.

Just the taste of them does something to me, knowing that the salt coating my tongue belongs to one person who ruined me. I grind against her.

Her screams vibrate against my skin.

“KANE! PLEASE!”

My hips move faster, loving the way she feels.

How her fear fucking soaks my dick and she clenches along with her screams. But more blood flows and the conversations behind me restart, reminding me that we’re not alone.

I kiss her wet cheek again and move my lips as little as possible to stop our audience eavesdropping.

“Don’t scream for anyone other than me.”

I get a small nod. The wood creaks as I fuck her in shallow thrusts. My belt buckle claps against her inner thigh. Her tears soak into the collar of my shirt as she pushes her face into the crook of my neck.

And I continue whispering into her ear. “That’s my fucking wife. No one gets to have anything from you. Only me.”

The blood trickles down, seeping through my pants and sticking to her thighs.

“J-just me an— And you,” Delilah whimpers into my neck.

Her nails dig into my wrists and the sounds in the room are increased. Cheers and glasses clink together while I shield her, myself, us, from them.

“Always, koukla mou,” I promise.