Page 7 of Royal Beast (Royals of the Underworld #1)

DARCY

T he pressure in the room is thick, nearly suffocating.

I shift in my seat, trying to weigh the pros and cons of this decision.

I glance back at the contract, where I tossed it on his desk.

Smoothing my hand over my skirt, I look up at Kellan.

His jaw is locked and he’s got his arms crossed, a simmering frustration clearly boiling under the surface.

I know that my hesitation is probably setting him off, but I need to know that I can maintain a semblance of control in this situation, so I pretend not to see it.

“Can I get a pretty new dress for the ceremony?” I ask. “I know that this whole thing is just a formality, but I’d like to at least look the part.”

The tension in the room eases up and Kellan’s eyes soften a little as he gazes back at me. “Of course you can. I’ll have my brother’s assistant take you somewhere nice to pick something out.”

I nod, then pick up a pen and glance over the paperwork once more before slowly signing my name.

It’s official.

I’m going to marry Kellan Brannagan.

I’m going to sell my life away to pay for my father’s debts and protect my family. The reality hasn’t fully sunken in yet, but I feel a knot of anxiety grow as I think about what I’ve just agreed to do.

“Clary,” Kellan says, leaning over to push the button on his intercom. “Can you come in here for a moment?”

A young woman enters and Kellan gestures to her. “This is my brother’s assistant, Clary Woodcrest. Clary, this is Darcy Flynn. She’s going to need your help to pick out a wedding dress. We’re getting married.”

My eyes flick to Clary, taking a moment to absorb the girl in front of me.

She has the kind of effortless beauty that screams old-school glamor.

Her honey-blonde hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders with bangs that frame her heart-shaped face.

Clary has on a tight cardigan, buttoned halfway up, with pearl buttons that glint under the light over an A-line pink dress.

She tilts her head slightly, studying him. “Married?” she asks, curiosity in her tone. Kellan forms his lips into a thin line and shakes his head, indicating that he’s not willing to elaborate. Clary shrugs and offers me a smile instead.

“Alright, I can see I’m not going to get any more out of you so maybe Darcy will tell me the story,” she teases lightly.

I fully expect Kellan to snap at her, but he just sighs and gives her a fond smile that has my stomach clenching. Am I jealous? I try to brush the feeling aside. It’s not like this marriage is real, anyway.

I wait as Clary makes some arrangements. After a few moments, she and I head out and get into a waiting car. Clary gives the driver the address of a local boutique.

“So, you’re Darcy,” Clary says once we’re settled in the back seat. I nod and smooth a hand over my skirt.

“Kellan has mentioned you before, but I didn’t know you were dating.”

“We’re not.” I give her a tight-lipped smile. “This is a marriage of convenience. It’s just business.” I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. I can see her tense up, placing her hands in her lap. Damn. I’ve made things awkward.

I could use a friend right now, so I take a deep breath and try again.

“Thanks for coming with me,” I offer. “I would have picked something out for myself, but I guess Kellan wanted me to have help.”

“What sort of dress are you looking for?” she asks, eyeing me up and down. “Something black, similar to what you’re wearing now?”

“I want to keep it simple,” I tell her as I bite my lip. “I usually wear stuff like this when I’m working because it makes people take me more seriously,” I confess.

Clary glances around for a moment before saying, “It’s hard dealing with the men of the world, especially ones like the Brannagans. I get it.” She gives me a soft smile.

We arrive at the boutique and Clary escorts me inside. She introduces me to the proprietor, Maureen, an older woman with frizzy red curls and red, cat-eye glasses. “Welcome, Clary. What can I do for you today?”

“I’m not the one shopping for a dress, Maureen,” Clary says, pushing me forward. “This is Darcy. She and Kellan are getting married today. She’s looking for something simple but elegant.”

I feel put on the spot when Maureen looks me up and down, tilting her glasses to take me in. “Okay, let’s see what I have,” she says, relief filling me when she doesn’t ask any follow-up questions about the hasty wedding.

She shows me a few formal wedding dresses, but I explain that I don’t want anything huge and fancy, definitely not a ballgown. “We’re going to the courthouse,” I explain to her. “I just want to look nice.”

“We’ll have to work with what I’ve got in stock,” she says with a sigh, then rifles through a nearby rack before shoving a dress at me. “Here, try this.”

It’s short and lacy with an A-line skirt, a high neckline, and long sleeves. I slip into the fitting room and pull it on, giving myself a once-over. It’s pretty, but I’m not sure if it’s my style, so I step out and show it off to Clary and Maureen for their opinion.

“You look nice,” Clary says, a hesitant smile on her face. Maureen folds her arms and leans back, then shakes her head.

“It’s all wrong,” she declares, then rushes off to find something else.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Clary asks once we’re alone. “I know what it’s like to be tied to one of the Brannagans. If you want to get out of here, I would?—”

I clear my throat, cutting her off. “Thanks for the advice,” I tell her. “And I get it. But I know what I’m getting myself into.”

Clary shrinks back and nods, though the concern doesn’t leave her eyes.

I’m saved from the conversation when Maureen returns with another dress and presses it into my hands. “Take this one. I think it will work.”

I step back into the fitting room and pull off the lace dress, slipping into the one Maureen just brought.

This one feels much more my style. This dress is also short, with an empire waist and off-the-shoulder bishop sleeves.

The bodice is tight, with a sweetheart neckline and ruching over the chest.

As I smooth my hands over the material, I’m struck by the fact that I’m about to get married . It’s like it didn’t feel real until just now.

I step out in a daze, and Clary and Maureen both light up when they see me. Maureen gives me a giant grin and a thumbs-up.

“Perfect,” she says. “Let’s get one in your size and make sure it doesn’t need any last-minute alterations. Oh! What is your shoe size, dear?”

Clary nods and smiles, and that’s all the reassurance I need. I feel my nerves settle as Maureen rings us up. I almost have a mini heart attack at the price, but Clary simply presses Kellan’s black Amex into Maureen’s hand and that’s that.

Clary helps me into the dress and fiddles with my hair, pinning up the back but leaving a couple of strands by my face. She carefully wipes off my dark lipstick and paints on a blush pink one from her handbag before declaring that I’m ready.

I glance in the mirror and blink, struck by the fact that it only took a little bit of work to make me look like a bride. I smile at her and thank her profusely.

“Ready to go?” she asks. I nod, and she follows me to the town car, opening the back door for me. “I’m taking a cab back to the office. Kellan wants you to meet him at the courthouse,” she explains.

I take in a deep breath and give her a quick hug. “Thank you for helping me,” I tell her.

“Good luck, and you’re very welcome,” she says, rubbing my back. I head off in the town car, wondering once again whether I’m making the right decision.

Kellan is waiting for me outside when I arrive. He gives me his arm and escorts me up the steps. He doesn’t comment on my attire. He only gives me a soft smile as we head into the judge’s chambers.

“Kellan, my boy!” Judge Hammond declares, pulling him in for a bear hug. The older man pats Kellan on the back with a broad hand, then squints at me before giving a nod of approval.

Kellan leans in and whispers something in his ear then palms a bill into his hand. Any hope I had for the judge seeing through our charade is instantly dashed. This man already knows Kellan. He’s probably one of the judges in the pockets of the Brannagan family.

“Let’s get this thing started,” the judge says, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles benevolently at us. “Take her hand,” he instructs.

Kellan takes my hand, and a tingle runs through me. But as I gaze into his eyes, the pit in my stomach grows.

“We’re here today to witness the union between Kellan Brannagan and Darcy Flynn,” Judge Hammond states. “You begin a new life together today founded in love, honesty, respect, and friendship.”

What a farce. Our marriage is a business transaction, nothing more.

The judge continues, as though this is all perfectly normal.

“Kellan, do you take Darcy to be your spouse and live as partners, to build a marriage that grows stronger and more loving as time passes?”

“I do,” Kellan says, the intensity in his gaze rooting me to the spot.

The judge repeats the question, directing it at me, and I swallow hard, trying not to cry.

“I do.”

Judge Hammond begins to wrap things up, saying stuff about love and trust, but I barely pay attention, too stuck on the ridiculousness of the whole thing.

He presents the marriage certificate, and when it’s my turn to sign, I decide that even though I’m doing this to help my family, I’m still going to try to find a way to fix this mess and get out of this sham marriage.

Once it’s done, Kellan gives me a kiss that leaves my toes curling before tugging me away. We head back to the waiting town car and drive in silence to his office.

“Rory, we’re back!” Kellan calls out. He takes my hand and pulls me into his brother’s office. “This is Darcy. She’s my wife,” he introduces. “Darcy, this is my brother Rory.”

“Welcome to the family,” Rory says, though his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Kellan nudges me toward a chair. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go get us something to celebrate,” he says, leaving me alone with my new brother-in-law.

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Rory says once we’re alone. “Kellan is my brother. You might be his wife, but if you cross him, I have no qualms about getting rid of you—permanently. Is that understood?”

I nod, clenching my fingers around the arms of the chair. Rory’s icy blue gaze is cold and calculating as it bores into my soul.

A part of me is suddenly relieved that I’m with Kellan. He may be doing this for his own benefit, but at least he isn’t as cold as his brother.

Kellan returns, passing both of us a glass of chilled bourbon. He lifts his own glass, inclining his head toward me.

“Here’s to my new bride,” he says, looking entirely too pleased if the smug grin on his face is any indication to go by. “May she never forget her place, which is by my side.”

Kellan and Rory clink glasses.

I feel ice cold all of a sudden.

Shit.

How am I going to explain this to my dad?