Page 143 of Massacre Monday

Chase chuckles. “Go on, then.” He waves a lazy hand. “You wanted to play queen. Now let’s see you bow.”

Pen’s face burrows in my chest, and I clasp the back of her neck to hold her close, then press my lips to her head through my mask. I won’t let them touch her.

After the first two men finish, the next move up to use Elina’s holes as she whimpers, and Chase’s laughter grows loud enough to echo off the high, painted ceiling.

“Enough.” The word is spoken low from my chest and is barely a breath, but it comes out sharp as a blade.

The last few rows of maroon-robed figures turn toward me, their black masked faces stoic and cold. No one on stage seems to have heard my outburst, so I think about raising my voice.

Pen glances at me, a lace veil covering her worried brow, but my eyes never leave the scene on the altar. My jaw clenches as tension coils through every inch of my body.

“It’s tradition,” Pen whispers to me with terror in her eyes.

My smirk is devoid of mirth. “And what do we say about tradition, pink cheeks?”

Her eyes lock onto mine. Steady. Fierce. “We’ll create our own.”

That’s my girl. My fingers release her neck, only to grab her chin and lift her face toward mine.

“That won’t happen to you.” Despite my voice coming out smoothly, I can’t eradicate the rough edge behind it. “You’re mine. And if they think otherwise—” My thumb brushes over her bottom lipsoftly as murder fills the gaze that I lift toward the elders. “I’ll remind them.”

Pen shudders in my hold.

Chase seems to quiet his braying as the elders finish with Elina. The circle of men takes a pause to readjust and wash theirhands and dicks in the ceremonial bowls surrounding the edges as the newly appointed Chase and Elina Warrick leave through the side door, her sniffles still lingering in the dusty atmosphere.

With a deep inhale, I whisper to my bride. “You need not fear anything here.”

She nods slowly, but still seems unconvinced.

I dart my gaze around the corners of the room, where the flames of the standing candelabras glow ominously. “Because I will burn this place to the ground before anyone touches what’s mine. And that’s what you are. My wife. My queen. My final, irreversible claim. So say the words you have to, Pen, but know that you and I are out of here as soon as it’s over. We’ll say ourownwords to each other. Fuck this system.”

Her chest rises with a breath as she narrows her eyes and smiles dangerously. My partner-in-crime. “Got it.”

The robed men resume their spots in a ritualistic circle. Each represents a phase of the moon and dons a long bronze necklace to represent it. The center man lifts a bell and rings it three times to signal our approach. The others chime until the count of calls is nine.

Tucking Pen’s hand against my arm, I lead her down the aisle, and with every step, despite my resolve, my heart pounds harder in my chest. When we arrive in the center of the half circle, Pen takes her spot and kneels before me as I lift her veil.

Her golden eyes shift until I whisper, “Focus on me.”

She nods and does as I command.

The elder rings a deeper, longer tone, and Pen clears her throat to speak her vows.

Kneeling before me, her beautiful face lights up as she becomes solemn. Less afraid than she was a moment ago. Now, it feels like it’s just the two of us. And maybe the scripture is written forBonakanos, but I take them for my own.

“I pledge fealty to fidelity, a covenant to constancy, and an oath to obedience.”

Unexpected emotion heats my chest. I never expected to be in this position with someone I loved. SomeoneI chose. But here she is. My wife. My life. I swallow through a tight throat and give my scripted response. Except I mean it.

“I appoint you as my vassal.”

With a sexy smirk, she nods. “Surrendering all my veneration to my Viscount.” Her palms raise as her head bows to me.

She opens her hands to offer me a smooth white stone—cold, like something stolen from a corpse’s chest cavity. Even the moon chalice looks hungry for it. The elders lean forward ever-so-slightly, like beasts waiting to see if I’ll feed them.

It’s one I can put in the Moon Chalice in front of the pulpit. Doing so would signify that the elders may use my newly appointed as they wish. It’s a sacrifice to give away your virgin wife to the gods for increased blessings.

But fuck them.