A Vow Of Hate by Lylah James

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

Julianna

 

I gave Ragna a little nudge with my heel. It startled her and she took three quick steps forward, before relaxing into a steady walk.

“Good girl,” I praised, running my fingers through her mane while keeping one hand on the rein. Almost as if she understood me, Ragna snorted and sounded pleased.

“You’re doing good,” Gideon said, keeping up with my mare. He walked beside her, a steady hand on Ragna’s bridle to guide her, in case she went a little wild and I had trouble holding onto her.

This was my fifth time on Ragna. We were taking it slow, but every day I enjoyed this time with her. She was a gentle creature and we got along pretty well, while Gideon guided me with patience.

“You’re a natural.” Gideon smiled.

I flushed under his praise and fatherly smile, but I was far from a natural like he said. My horse did all the effort; I let her guide me into her personal space and did what she wanted. She let me on her back and didn’t buck me off. She accepted me as her rider and gave me a chance to sit atop a horse again.

Ragna was made for me.

I patted her long neck, rubbing my hand down the side of it. “Do you want to go for a gallop, my love?”

Gideon released the bridle and I steered Ragna toward the center of the big arena. She started slow, galloping. My thighs squeezed, my hips tightened for a moment, feeling an ache spread through my bones, but I ignored it. My hands clutched the rein and I nudged her with my heel again, encouraging her to go faster.

The wind blew on my face, my black veil fluttering, and the breeze caressed my bare skin. I breathed in, feeling my chest tighten before I released a loud exhale. My body loosened and I sat in a rocking motion atop Ragna.

I clucked my tongue and she understood my command, going faster, until my heart was in my throat and my stomach fluttered with butterflies I didn’t know I still had in me. I rode the wave, feeling her strength under my butt and against my thighs.

Ragna was a big girl, but God, she made me feel safe.

The wind streamed past her, whipping my black hair into my face, but I couldn’t help it. I let out a small laugh. The ground rushed by us and the only sound I heard were the pounding hooves and my heart thudding in my ears.

When we came to a stop, Gideon was there, his face slightly paled but an affectionate smile on his lips. “Damn it, little one. You scared me there for a moment, but then I saw that you got her. And she got you. You rode her beautifully, Julianna.”

I petted Ragna and she sighed into my hand. While Gideon held onto the bridle, I swung my right leg off and then released my left foot from the stirrup as I dismounted my mare. The moment my feet were on the ground, my legs gave out under me.

Both Gideon and I expected it and he was prepared, already reaching out to me. His arm wrapped around my waist, keeping me upright.

I let out a small shaky laugh. “Thank you, Gideon.”

He kept me anchored to him. “At your service, milady.”

“You’re a perfect gentleman,” I said, teasing.

He winked in response. Gideon was a handsome man and probably around the same age as my father, but he was vastly different. In his emotions, his words and the way he just was.

Bishop Romano wasn’t exactly a bad father. But he was guarded and too busy.

He expected perfection.

And well, my flaws were too many to count and I was riddled with imperfections from my body to my heart straight down to my soul.

Gracelynn was always his favorite, even though he never said it out loud. After she died, I became his only child and no matter that my flaws were too many to count, I was still his blood and the only family he had left.

His expectations of me were high, but I did everything he demanded of me.

In the end, I only ever wanted his approval. And I got that by marrying Killian, even though it killed me.

Once I felt that I could stand on my own again, I patted Gideon’s arm and he released me. My feet were unstable on the ground and my legs were shaking, but I leaned against Ragna, letting her support me.

Three years…

It took me three years… to find what I had been searching for.

The freedom I found in Ragna.

The undeniable connection between my mare and me.

The story between us – the look in her eyes and the way my heart squeezed.

I pressed my forehead against her nuzzle. “I love you,” I whispered to her. She let out a soft breath, speaking to me in her own language. I imagined she was reciprocating the same feelings.

“Julianna!” I flinched away from Ragna and looked over my shoulder to find Mirai running toward me, flailing her arms.

I took a step away from my mare and toward her. Gideon grabbed Ragna’s bridle and guided her back to her stall and strutted away as Mirai came to a halt in front of me. She bent over, hands on her knees as she gulped in several loud breaths.

I patted her back, waiting for her to catch her breath. “Why are you running?” I asked when she straightened. Her lips parted as if to speak, but she only ended up gasping some more. “What happened.”

“Killian,” she panted.

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach.

“Killian is here. On the island.”

My black dress swished around my feet as I walked as fast as my legs would allow me to the dining room, where Mirai told me Killian was.

I found him sitting at the head of the long dining table that could easily fit thirty people. He lazily took a bite of the juicy steak Emily had made for lunch today.

Killian must have noticed me entering the dining room, but he didn’t acknowledge my presence. I stayed by the pillars while he ate his food, enjoying his late lunch, and he never even glanced at me.

I watched him, quietly. His suit was unrumpled, his dark hair was slicked back and he was clean shaven; his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing his strong forearms, and his spine was straight against the chair, his shoulders tensed.

Killian Spencer looked every bit the royalty that he was.

He dominated every room he was in, and this dining room was no difference. The air sizzled with tension and cracked under the cold pressure.

He took his sweet time, carefully cutting his steak into precise pieces and taking slow sips of his wine.

Once his plate was cleared, he dabbed the corner of his mouth with his napkin.

“I’m sure you are aware of what is expected from you, out of this contract marriage,” Killian drawled, finally acknowledging my presence but still not looking my way.

I took a step forward, my shoulder squaring. I knew exactly what he was talking about. “I know what is expected from both of us, yes.”

“You haven’t fulfilled your duty as a wife–”

“I can’t get pregnant on my own, Killian,” I snapped. “I think you are well aware of that and if you don’t know how it works, I can give you an anatomy lesson. Shall I prepare a PowerPoint? How to impregnate your wife, will be the title.”

His jaw clenched and he gripped the table, his knuckles growing white. “You’ve chosen the wrong moment to be bold, Julianna,” he threatened slowly.

I inhaled sharply, my knees shaking.

“I wasn’t talking about fucking you or getting you pregnant. I was talking about your duties as my wife. Other than carrying and birthing my child.”

My lungs clenched. I licked my lips and swallowed down the acidic bile before I could gag on it. Killian made me jittery… and when I was anxious, I made mistakes.

Mistakes that could cost me dearly.

“Oh, right. I had to look pretty in your arms, smile at the camera, mingle with the people at charity events and parties, showing them just how happy our marriage is. A perfect lie. A pretty façade.”

“Yes,” he hissed. “Exactly that.”

“Well, you haven’t done your duties as a husband either,” I gritted, before I could swallow down the words. “So we are both failing at this contract marriage thing.”

His head finally snapped toward me, his dark eyes glaring. “It’s taking all my self-control not to wring your neck, Julianna Romano. But then again, I want your death to be slow and painful.”

“Spencer,” I shot back. “Mrs. Julianna Spencer.”

“You’re not my wife,” Killian spat.

“Too bad. We are legally husband and wife.”

He pushed his chair with a loud screech and stood up, rounding the dining table. He stalked toward me with long, powerful legs, his face dark with rage and his lips curled cruelly.

My back slammed against the pillar as he crowded into my personal space, pushing his chest against mine. I sucked in a harsh breath and my scars itched.

Kilian was too close.

I didn’t like it.

I couldn’t… breathe.

My heart hammered so hard I wondered if it bruised my rib cage.

His head lowered and his whiskey breath whispered over my lips, my black veil the only thing separating our mouths from touching.

He was too close…

His warmth surrounded me, his scent musky and unique… familiar. His eyes darkened, boring into mine.

Please. Don’t look at me so closely, for you’ll see my demons.

My sins.

My mistakes.

My lies.

My secrets.

“Our fathers expect us to consummate this marriage,” he said, his thick voice laced with an underlying threat.

“I know.” I buried my shaking hands in my dress.

“The mere thought of touching you brings me disgust, but I will enjoy breaking you.” His right hand came up. It brushed against my neck, almost tenderly, before he wrapped his fingers around my throat, squeezing in warning. “You will submit to me, Beasty.”

The venom in his tone pierced my heart, sinking its poison into my beating organ. The pain was… blinding and pure agony.

His thumb stroked over the healed scars along the left side of my neck. They were not as bad as my face and had healed into pink, faded lines. “Poor little Beasty,” Kilian taunted in my ear.

My breath stuttered.

My soul wailed.

My heart wrenched from my chest, laying at his feet, and he cruelly stomped on it.

Atone for your sins.

I reminded myself.

Beg for absolution.

I closed my eyes. I deserved this.

Salvation is in the hands of the one who you have wronged.

I inhaled a shaky breath, swallowing my cries and my injured pride. My hands landed on his chest and I gave him a hard shove, enough for him to let me go, and I stepped away from him, putting a safe distance between us. When we were too close, I couldn’t think. When he touched me…

Our eyes locked. “I don’t consent,” I murmured.

“You don’t have a choice,” he mused.

I gritted my teeth. “You’d take me against my will?”

Killian’s eyes darkened and his cruel face broke into a mocking smile. “I’m your husband. Your body is my right, Julianna.” He took a step forward and I skidded back, out of his reach. He advanced toward me again, like the predator he was. He was the master of the hunt.

And I was apparently his prize. I may be his trophy wife but I was not a martyr. I had been through worse and handling Killian’s hatred should be no trouble. Or I thought so.

When he was close enough, his arm snaked out and he grasped my elbow. Killian gave a hard tug and I stumbled into his chest. His head lowered and he pressed his cheek against mine, over my veil. His lips brushed against my right ear. “It’s my duty, isn’t it?” he rasped. “To consummate this marriage? To make you a wife, to make a mother out of you? My duty is to breed you and your job is to give me an heir, Julianna Spencer.” Killian spat out my full name like he was disgusted that his last name was attached to me.

“What century are you from?” I growled. “Definitely not this era. Rape is rape, whether you're my husband or not, you need my consent and I don’t give it to you.”

He chuckled heartlessly. “You’ll refuse me?” He grasped my left hand, his thumb stroking my wedding ring. He dragged the ring forward, over one knuckle, to reveal the imprint that the ring left. “You’ll refuse me while wearing my ring? My name is etched on your skin, Beasty.”

Killian’s name was engraved inside my wedding band, similar to how my name was engraved inside his. But he never wore his ring. The wedding band had left an imprint of his name on my ring finger.

I snatched my hand away, my other palm slapping against his chest. An act of short rebellion, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. Killian knew too many of my weaknesses. “Yes,” I said.

“I want to see you try.”

Goddamn it. He was a bastard. A heartless bastard. “The man I knew would never force himself on a woman.”

“You don’t know me. You know nothing, Beasty.”

“I know enough,” I snapped. “The man my sister so passionately spoke of was respectful. A decent man who would always do the right thing. That was the man she fell in love with... yet the one standing in front of me is nothing but a monster. A beast. You’re without remorse, Killian Spencer.”

There was a flash of pain in his eyes before he quickly blinked it away. A shadow covered his face and his jaw twitched. “You’re right. I’m not the Killian your sister fell in love with. You killed him that night; the same night you killed your sister. Bravo, Julianna. You single-handedly ruined two lives in one night.

“Three,” I breathed, the crack in my chest growing larger.

That made him pause. “What?”

I swallowed, my eyes burning. This fight had taken all my energy and now… Killian had left me feeling vulnerable. “Three lives. I ruined myself that night,” I said, my voice breaking. “You seem to forget that every time. You. Are. Not. The. Only. One. Who. Is. Suffering. I miss her too. I loved her too. And yes, I hate myself too. More than you can ever hate me. So no, your anger and your hatred does nothing to me.”

“If you want pity–”

“I’m not asking for pity!”

My voice echoed through the walls and his eyes widened. “Watch your tone with me, Julianna.”

“Or what?” I challenged, blinking the tears away.

“You will regret it,” he warned.

I gave him a bitter smile. “You still don’t understand, do you? What else can you do to hurt me when I’m hurting myself every day, every time I breathe.”

“I can do much worse.”

The pressure on my chest intensified. I let out a sigh, rubbing my temple. “We’re going in circles, Killian.”

He stuck a hand into the pocket of his slacks, his eyes piercing mine. “I came here to finish what we started.”

I nodded. “The heir our families desperately need.”

His lips pulled up, but there was no warmth in his smile. “How about we make this easy for ourselves? Just bend the fuck over and submit to me, Beasty. I’m sure you know what it’s like to be on your back and on your knees. You can’t be a virgin,” he paused. “Once the job is done, you’ll be paid bountifully every year. A payment for your services, as per the contract.”

My fists clenched into the fabric of my dress. “I’m not a common whore, Killian.”

He scoffed. “My apologies. I thought that was your job description. Truly.”

“That’s petty, even for you.”

He chuckled, his wide chest shaking.

“I’m not a vessel,” I said, my chin nudged high, and I channelled every ounce of pride I had inside my bones. I was my father’s daughter, after all. The Romanos didn’t let anyone step on them. True, I was paying for my sins. But I wasn’t weak and my husband had to see that.

“I’m not a vessel,” I repeated. “And my womb is not up for discussion, Killian. But I have a few conditions of my own before I give you my consent.”

His gaze fixated on me. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“No, it’s a simple compromise.”

“A compromise, you say,” he said slowly. “I don’t and won’t compromise with you.”

I watched as he spun around, walking away – leaving us mid-conversation. That was his way of saying that I had been dismissed.

But I wasn’t done.

Either Killian accepted my conditions or he’d never get the heir he needed. This time, the ball was in my court. I had all the power in my hands – or should I say my womb.

I took a step forward and called out to his retreating back. “It’s either that or your father doesn’t get the grandchild he desperately wants to see before–”

He came to a sudden halt, his head snapped toward me and his eyes turned to slits. “You’re a fucking bitch.”

Yes, I knew it was a low blow, bringing up his dying father. But it was the only way to get him to listen to me.

“We’ve already established that you hate me and I’m a bitch. Let’s move on, Killian.”

“What do you want?” he snapped, enraged.

“Dinner, every night for thirty nights,” I spilled out quickly before I lost the courage. “And I expect us to converse without throwing insults. Simple as that. After those thirty nights, we can then discuss consummating our marriage.”

I had to practically choke out the last sentence. Killian’s brows pulled up in confusion. His jaw tightened. His lips parted, as if to speak, but I was already talking over him.

“Dinner will be served at seven. I hope to see you there.”

And this time, I spun around and walked away, leaving him behind.

I rushed up the stairs to my room and once inside, I slammed the door closed and my shaking legs finally gave out from under me. I slumped against the door, sliding down until I was sitting with my butt on the ground.

What have I done?

I tried to inhale, but I couldn’t breathe through my panic.

What. Have. I. Done?

I clutched my chest as I tried to remember how to breathe. My room swayed and my vision blurred.

God, I was so dumb.

I should have kept my distance, should have let him do whatever he wanted. Once he impregnated me, maybe he’d leave me alone. Maybe he’d go away again until I gave birth.

That would have been the ideal situation.

So why… why did I ask him to spend more time with me?

Because I was stupid.

Stupid and lonely.

And now I had to pay for one more mistake.

Because those thirty nights would be absolutely cruel to my heart.