A Vow Of Hate by Lylah James

CHAPTER THREE

 

Killian

 

I twirled her around and she threw her head back, laughing. There was just something about her laugh; the way she was so soft and carefree. And I knew that laugh was only reserved for me.

I remembered the first time I met her. She had been watching me as I prepped Coal for a ride. The horse had been enthusiastic and it had felt her presence before I did.

Gracelynn.

My Grace.

“How do you want our wedding to be like?” I asked, pulling her closer to me. She fell into my arms and her smile turned… wary. It always did whenever I brought up the topic of our upcoming marriage.

Her lack of enthusiasm or the look of caution on her face was making me nervous. Was it possible she was having cold feet?

Or maybe she wasn’t ready to get married yet…

“Something simple,” Grace said, looking thoughtful. “But beautiful.”

I grasped her jaw in my hand and smokey grey eyes met mine and fuck, she intoxicated me with the madness in her gaze. There was just something in it.

So many secrets.

So much pain.

Loneliness and fear…

There was just something in them that screamed, don’t abandon me; keep me together.

“Do you want this marriage, Grace?” I asked and then the urge to kick myself was strong. Why torment myself with such a question, to give her an easy way out?

But as much as I wanted Grace as my wife, I needed her to want this as much as I did. My bride would come to our room at her own will and not because it was her duty to warm my bed.

Her eyes widened at the question and she grasped my hand in hers, squeezing with her all her might. Her chest rattled with a shaky breath. “Of course, I do! I always dreamed of my wedding and you – before I even met you.”

Thank fuck. “Why do I feel like there’s a but in there?”

Grace swallowed. “We still have so much to learn about each other.”

“I’ve been courting you for six months and we still have four months until our wedding.” I ran my fingers down the length of her white-blonde hair. The color was so light, her hair was almost a platinum white and silver shade that illuminated her round face. It made her grey eyes pop. “Plenty of time for us to still get to know each other.”

Grace was transparent, which meant she was a bad liar. Her eyes were the mirror to her heart and soul. They never lied, and today, they held such heartbreak in them – I could have drowned in them, like some mindless lover.

She came up on her toes and her lips brushed along my jaw, before they finally landed on my own waiting lips. A whispered kiss.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Grace?” I rasped into her mouth.

Her arms wrapped around my neck and she pulled away from the kiss, before burying her face into my throat.

“A secret,” she whispered. “Don’t hate me…”

“I could never–”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” another voice cut me off. “I didn’t know you were here, Killian. I was just coming to get my sister. We have plans.”

I looked back over my shoulder, where Julianna was standing. She fidgeted on the spot, looking a little guilty to have interrupted us. Goddamn it. Why did she always have to get in the middle? If I didn’t know better, I’d say she did it on purpose.

True, Julianna was supposed to chaperone because Bishop Romano had strictly forbidden me to meet with his daughter alone – even though she was my fiancée and we were about to get married in a little over four months.

Apparently, it had to do with the traditions that had been passed down in his family. Probably something about making sure I didn’t defile his daughter before our wedding.

Fuck that – I just wanted some time alone with my wife-to-be.

Grace pulled away and I reluctantly let her go. “You were going to tell me something?”

“Tomorrow? My sister can be a little impatient.”

I gestured toward the stables and the horses. This was our secret hideaway, our meeting place. I waited for her here every night, without fault, and she always came to me. “I’ll be here.”

“If my father finds out we’ve been seeing each other alone–”

I brought her hand to my mouth, kissing the back of it. “We’ll just say Julianna has been chaperoning for us.”

My lips lingered over the back of her hand for longer than it should and Grace gave me a tender smile when I finally let her go.

I watched her walk away.

Not knowing it was the last time I’d see her.

She walked away…

Not even leaving her shadow behind.

Because the next time I saw her, her cold body was in a casket.

Buried with the secret she wanted to tell me.

Julianna

My wedding ended just like it began. Without any joy, but with much heartbreak. After Killian left me at the altar, my father and William Spencer did everything to please the guests. They knew there would be gossips, but they’d also do their best to bury them – as they always did.

My father-in-law introduced me to the guests, one by one. I talked; nodded when I had to; smiled when I was asked to; laughed when I was expected to.

The guests stared and openly judged.

Why the black veil?

Killian married her only because he had to. This will be a loveless marriage.

He didn’t even bother to lift her veil or kiss her.

I wonder if the rumors about her scars are true. Is that why she hides behind a veil?

Killian left her at the altar.

They whispered behind my back and gave me the fakest smiles when I locked eyes with them. I kept my head high, gaze unflinching because these people were nothing but vultures.

Filthy rich but heartless. They were looking for a weakness and I wasn’t going to let them step over me.

Not today and not in this lifetime.

By the end of the evening, I was more mentally exhausted than ever and it was taking a toll on my body. My legs had grown considerably weaker, trembling under my own weight and the heavy dress. My limp was more pronounced and I flexed my toes in my ivory, pearl flats. They were custom-made to match my dress.

My face had started to itch, my skin feeling stretched tight over my bones. The urge to scratch my flesh was strong and I fidgeted with my hands, burying them into the thick tulles of my gown so I wouldn’t end up doing something embarrassing like lift my veil and claw my face until it bled.

When I woke up from my coma, pain came in a series of waves, similar to grief. And for the longest time, I wanted reprieve from it. Popping the sleeping pills like my life depended on them, I chased the numbness – the world between reality and unconsciousness.

Until I started to obsess over it.

We were all addicted to something that took pain away.

But me?

Well, I needed it.

Pain buried its fangs into my flesh, tearing into me, sinking its poison into my veins and I craved it more than I wanted solace or needed salvation.

Pain was a dwelling of madness, but it was exactly what kept me sane.

After dinner, I excused myself – not that I was needed, anyway – and Selene helped me back to my room. This part of the castle was eerily quiet and dark. The castle was built in mid-1800s and nothing had changed. The walls were still the same. The windows, the doors, the wooden planks – everything was still antique and practically ancient.

I was very much interested in anything historical, but I never imagined that I’d get married in a real castle and definitely not as beautifully deserted and grand as this one.

I itched to explore every corridor, every room and crevice of this place, to let the history of this castle bleed on my fingers. I heard these walls held a tragic love story and it called to me. The echoes of the whispered heartbreak lured me into its depth the moment I stepped foot into this castle.

The wedding was over and done with. I had two weeks to explore this Isle and all the secrets that came with it. Just not tonight.

All the fight had left my body and I swayed on my feet as we climbed up the stairs that led to the East swing, where my room was located. I barely even noticed the frames on the walls or the chandeliers decorating the corridor.

The moment I stepped into my room, my legs gave out from under me and I sagged onto the floor, my gown practically enveloping me.

“Do you think Killian will come to you tonight?” Selene asked, while slowly unlacing my wedding dress. “It’s your first night as a married couple, after all.”

“He didn’t even kiss me at the altar. I don’t think he’s coming to my room tonight.” I hoped not.

“I think your father expects–”

“… bloody sheets in the morning?” I cut her off, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Julianna!” Selene hissed, outraged. “I was not going to say that.”

I shrugged and lifted my black veil off my face. Selene was the only person who has seen me without the veil.

She had seen all of me.

Every single flaw.

All the little imperfections that marred my skin.

Selene took a deep breath, once again composed, before she pulled apart the last lace and I could finally breathe. The corset had been pushing into my chest and against my rib cage for hours. “I was going to say that your father expects you and Killian to get along.”

I took out the pins holding my hair up and in place. “Because they need an heir and my womb is on lease?”

Selene threw her hands up, letting out an aggravated sigh. “Why are you so cynical, Jules?”

“Not cynical. My fantasy had long turned bitter and now, I choose to live in reality,” I said, my voice detached from any human emotions. “I know why my father and William have arranged this marriage. I know what Killian needs and I’m fully aware of what my job description is as Killian’s wife. They need an heir and I’m just a breeding machine.”

Selene stepped in front of me and helped me to my feet. My legs wobbled but we successfully rid me of my heavy gown until I was standing in a white chemise and panties.

“Holy shit. I feel so light,” I groaned, massaging the stiff muscles of my neck and shoulders.

She stared at my uncovered face for less than a second before her gaze shifted, but the unmistakeable pity in her eyes had my stomach hollowing with sorrow. My eyes landed on the mirror behind her head and I stared at my reflection.

The first thing I used to notice whenever I looked in the mirror were my eyes. But now, all I saw were the jagged lines across the left side of my face. The scar tissue had healed, but not before leaving the lasting effect of the burns and the glass shards that had cut through my face so cruelly. The skin felt stretched tight along the messed-up tissue – my mangled flesh, lumpy and taut, pink and daunting – ugly.

I touched my cheek, feeling the bumpy scars under my fingertips. The map of scars on the left side of my face told a story, a haunting one. My fingers brushed against the faded silvery ribbons on my forehead, my slit eyebrow and through the uneven dents and lines etched in my cheek, where once it was soft skin.

It looked like someone had taken a sharp knife to my face, cutting through my tender flesh, as if it was slicing apples.

Beautiful, they’d say.

Beasty, they now whispered.

Gracelynn would say that we got our beauty from our mother, for her looks had been praised by many. But now, the word beauty was just an ugly reminder of my tarnished past and my broken future.

The idea of Killian lifting my veil at the altar had almost paralyzed me, but I knew he wouldn’t. Killian Spencer was more than just cruel. For he was still loyal to his old love.

And even if he had tried to lift my veil – I wouldn’t have allowed him. Consequences be damned.

“I think I’ll take a warm ba–”

The door crashed open, causing both of us to flinch, and I scrambled for my smaller veil, the one I always wore.

“Oh, Killian,” Selene gasped.

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. I let out a frantic yelp while trying to pin my veil in place. My skin crawled and the sick feeling was back again. Like I had been catapulted into the air multiple times and I had the need to throw up now.

“Get out,” Killian said, his voice low and threatening.

“Well, I–” Selene looked between Killian and me, and when I took a shuddering breath and nodded, she gave me a tentative smile before walking away.

The door closed behind my back, leaving me alone alone in the room with Killian.

“Why are you here?” I clipped, my whole body shaking.

“Our fathers expect us to consummate this marriage,” Killian spat, his words violent and harsh to my ears. I heard him shift around in the room, felt him move closer to me. I kept my back to him when realization finally dawned on me that I was only in a thin white chemise and panties.

“Consummate this marriage?” I let out a humorless laugh. “You couldn’t even bear to kiss me at the altar.”

He was considerably closer now, his warmth spreading across my back. He was so close I felt his breath fanning at the back of my neck and the fabric of his pants brushing against my bare legs. My skin peppered with goose flesh and I trembled at the nearness of him. He crowded into me, pushing me against the vanity.

Killian made me feel small and vulnerable. But he was no merciful man.

“Turn around,” Killian ordered.

“I don’t take orders from you,” I breathed.

My heart stammered when his fingers grazed my elbow. “Maybe you should just shut up and do as you’re told, wife.”

I spun around, locking eyes with Killian. My hands landed on his chest and I pushed, putting some distance between us. “Two years haven’t changed the fact that you’re still as much of an asshole as the last time I saw you.”

Killian grasped my elbow and tugged me closer. My legs were unstable, so I wobbled on my feet before crashing into his arms. He lowered his head so we were eye level. “Two years haven’t changed the fact that you killed your sister,” he hissed into my face.

My scars itched. When I flinched, the corner of his lips curled with derision. His handsome face darkened and he looked like a fallen angel, with the insistent need for sick vengeance.

“Are you going to throw that in my face for the rest our lives?” I tried to sound strong but my words only came out choked. “I know what I did that night. I have the scars to prove it!”

That was my first mistake – showing him my weakness. Because Killian only did what he was best at. He fed on my rage and my vulnerability.

I had a habit of hiding behind my veil, not just my face but my emotions. Except, Killian could still see me.

A thin piece of fabric was not enough to hide me from his hatred.

Or to protect me from his anger.

And his endless humiliation and torture.

The veil did nothing but remind me that I was damaged goods…and I was at Killian’s mercy.

At the altar, there had been no vows to love and to cherish me. There was no honor in our union, no love in our story… and no redemption for our mistakes.

Killian Spencer vowed to make me suffer for the rest of my days.

That wasn’t a wedding. It had been a one-way ticket to eternal damnation.

He jerked me closer, his lips hovering over mine. I could feel his breath on my skin through the black lace veil. He smelled of his cologne and aftershave, mixed with a strong scent of alcohol. His fingers tightened around my wrist and I winced, feeling his nails dig deeper into my skin. His eyes darkened; they were almost pitch-black.

“Why… why do your eyes look so much like hers? It fucking haunts me,” Killian whispered, the roughness in his voice growing deeper. “You. Are. Every. Reminder. Of. What. I. Lost.”

His bitter words dripped venom, but I didn’t blame him. We were poisonous together. Toxic. And there was really no cure.

“If I remind you so much of her, what makes you think you can consummate this marriage?” I hissed, while also breaking into cold sweats. “Tell me, Killian. Can you really sleep with me? Fuck the woman who reminds you of your broken heart?”

He let me go, like I had burned him, and pushed away from me. The hand that had touched me; I watched as his fingers flexed before he curled them into a fist. Rage and disgust swirled in his bottomless, dark eyes.

Killian took a step back. “You have no fucking idea what you are playing with. You will regret taunting me.”

“What else can I lose? I’ve lost my sister and my freedom. And now I’m stuck with a man who loathes the mere sight of me. You can’t hurt me because I’ve already reached my threshold of pain and misery. But keep trying, dear husband.”

He cocked his head to the side, his stance changing from furious to… almost aloof. He was silently sizing me up, taking my challenge as a threat. After a second of dreadful silence, filled with unmistakeable tension, he finally shifted on his feet and walked away.

When he reached the door, he paused – only to spin around and face me once again. His piercing gaze seemed to knock away my defenses, digging under my flesh, sinking into my bones and burrowing underneath the cage around my heart.

Killian burned me on the spot with a single cutting glance.

And my ashes laid at his feet.

“I will break you, Beasty.”