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H e wanted to marry me. And I despised him, even despite the pleasure he brought me.

The idea of marrying this guy makes bike rise in my throat, much less staying here any longer.

I thought he’d changed. Such a fool I was. He’s still the sick, sadistic bastard from when we first met.

Punishing me for simply lowering my hand without meaning to? I know I was supposed to stay still, but come on! I couldn’t help it.

The way his fingers and mouth do things to me… how could I possibly resist grabbing him and begging for more?

And when he licked his own cum mixed with my blood, I couldn’t believe it.

Hell, I still can’t.

How can someone so cruel, so wicked, be so tempting to me?

He’s a beast, a monster of macabre, but he tortures me with pleasure and pain in a way that makes my own body turn against me.

As much as I want to despise him, to destroy him, my body still craves more—it betrays me.

But there’s still the matter of my salvation. I hate to admit it, but his ways of following God sound right. And maybe he takes it too far, but what if he’s telling the truth, that the Lord spoke to him?

I’m terrified of going against Jacob and losing my life. But I’m also terrified of losing my soul.

As soon as he lets me leave his bedroom in the morning, I dart to my own room and curl up in bed, hoping and praying my blanket can hide me.

I miss my family. I miss my stupid job. I miss my friends, what few I had.

But Jacob has convinced Amelia that I’m fine, and I’m sure Jinxed has already hired someone else to fill my place in my absence.

And my friends… the only two I had worked at the club. I doubt they’d come looking for me; those relationships were superficial at best.

It was always hard to fit in, being the weirdo goth girl, and I was used to be singled out and secluded from the girls my age. Teasing and taunting became normal for me from the time I was in junior high, and they only got worse in high school. Out in the real world of Philadelphia, I thought it would get better, but I grew used to plastered on smiles and bitter retorts. My collection? Weird. My makeup? Weird.

Yet now I had a man who was devoted to saving me, so he said. Who wanted to marry me.

Maybe something was wrong with me, but he claimed to love me anyway. To worry for my salvation. And that meant something to me.

God… I missed Amelia. Maybe he’d still get me that phone he promised, even though I’m almost certain he won’t. But if he does, maybe I can call her. I miss her voice, her presence in my life. And I know she feels bad I haven’t talked to her.

We can talk stupid baby stuff, right? Girl things.

Because now I’m bringing a new life into this world, whether I wanted to or not, and at least that’s something positive to look forward to, yeah?

I can’t believe I’m pregnant.

Even more than that, I can’t believe Jacob would hurt me while I’m pregnant with his child.

God, what am I doing?!

“Get up.”

That voice… it’s authoritative and commanding in a way that makes me sick. Because I recognize it as Jacob, and this wasn’t all some sick, twisted dream my deranged mind conjured.

No, it’s all deathly real. So painfully, dreadfully real.

“We’re getting married today,” Jacob says softly then, and the tenderness in his voice does little to calm me. I know it’s a lie, that honey-coated tone.

Because when he’s kind to me, the shoe eventually drops later, and he goes back to being wicked.

“I don’t want to,” I whisper, closing my eyes.

I know what I’ll see if I open them.

Untamed rage that assures me he will kill me if he doesn’t get his way. But I’m tired of this game of his, this hot and cold.

Just kill me , I want to scream. Get these mind games over with and just do it.

But I don’t want to die.

And he knows that I’ll do anything to stay alive.

Instead of launching into violence and punishing me, Jacob’s voice is soothing. “I know I haven’t been the most… gentle with you.”

“That’s a fucking understatement,” I snap, opening my eyes to see a face full of not resentment or rage, but of remorse.

How does he switch so fast? I don’t understand.

“Perhaps you could teach me…” Jacob trails off, his sincere eyes meeting mine, “to be gentle.”

My eyes widen. “What?” I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m serious. If we’re to be wed, then it isn’t all about me. It’s about you, too,” Jacob says with dead seriousness that I can’t force myself to believe.

There’s no way he means it.

No way he’d give up punishing me, demanding respect and obedience.

No one so brutal with their blade would give it up. I saw the satisfaction in his eyes as he cut me; it’s an adoration I could scarcely hope to find for myself. He only truly loves his guilty pleasure.

I refuse to believe him. I won’t. I can’t.

It’s like he sees it in my eyes, the defiance, because his expression instantly changes. It darkens, his emotions shuttering, to become a stoic mask of indifference.

“I tried to offer a common ground,” Jacob says, shaking his head as he backs away from the bed. “But I see you’re not up for it. No matter; the wedding is still going on. You may not like it, but this is for the best—for both of us.”

He turns away from where I lay on the bed.

“Get dressed. I’ve already placed a gown in your closet for this occasion.” His tone leaves no room for argument.

I have no choice but to obey, slipping free from the covers and onto the hardwood floor. I walk over to the closet, throwing it open with a little too much force in my rising ire. Within is indeed a white dress.

It’s an A-line gown with lace and sparkles sown into the fabric in beautiful spirals.

My breath catches at how beautiful it is. And it’s for me . From a man I know would chase me down to the edges of the earth to have me.

It’s both a terrifying and warming thought.

But mostly the former , I think with dread.

Slipping it on after removing my clothes, I have a little difficulty with the zipper on the back, and Jacob moves to help, his hands sliding sensually along my skin once he zips me up.

I inhale sharply at the contact. “I don’t want this.”

And yet there’s a part of me that’s already warming, already craving, the pleasure I know he can provide me.

My eyes close as Jacob whispers, “I know you do. Even as much as you might try to deny it, your body and soul want me. You want me.”

I say nothing, merely bite my lip to distract myself from his honey-coated words. Pain blossoms beneath my teeth, and I taste blood.

“You desire me, Amy Dean. And you shall have me. In life and death,” Jacob croons. “There’s no escape from this place, from me, and it’s time to give into your true desire; your true purpose in life.”

His voice lowers, his lips just a hair’s breadth away from my ear.

“Neither Heaven nor Hell could keep you from me after we’ve bonded in flesh and blood.”

I shudder, slowly turning to face him.

“Come. Your sister is waiting for the ceremony,” Jacob beckons, guiding me to the bedroom door. But alarm bells are already dinging in my head.

My sister? What is she doing here?

And if she’s here… she can never escape. She’s trapped, just like me. There’s no way he’d let her go, let anyone go.

It’s either repent or perish.

Repent or perish.

Repent or perish.

My mind repeats this on a loop, my breathing beginning to quicken as this fully dawns on me.

We’re not going to get out of this house alive.

I know Jacob will just keep finding reasons to punish me; know he’ll never stop. And I’m certain those punishments will just keep escalating. There’s no way out of here. Hell, I don’t even know where ‘here’ is.

But maybe if my sister is with me… she can help me try to get out. Whatever it takes, though, she comes first. I have to protect her.

Yet it’s when he takes me to the barn, when I see the gory state my sister is in, that I finally scream in hate and agony. My sobs can be heard for miles, as long as this place isn’t soundproof, which it probably is. What has he done?!