“Story?” I echo, brows furrowing.
“The bride who was kidnapped on her wedding day is a hot topic,” Henry says, smiling kindly.
I slip my hands out of his and smooth my hair back. “Henry, I have to tell you something.”
His face falls. “Oh, god. Did he rape you? Are you pregnant?”
“What?” I shake my head vigorously. “No, of course not. He wouldn’t do that.”
“He wouldn’t do that?” Henry rises and stares out the window. “You seem to know a lot about what this man would and wouldn’t do.”
“I’ve been with him for weeks now,” I say. My skirts rustle as I stand and move to Henry’s side.
“Been with him?” He asks, his voice cold.
My spine stiffens, a shiver trailing down it. I know that tone. “Not like that, obviously.”
“Did you fall in love with him?” He snaps.
“No, Henry, that’s not it,” I stammer.
He laughs, a chilling sound. “Tell me, did he dress you up like this? Buy you jewels? Did you find someone richer than me to manipulate?”
“Henry,” I breathe, hurt straining my voice. “That’s not how it was between us. My feelings were real.”
The scowl slips away from his face, replaced by a loving expression. He reaches for me, running a hand over my cheek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be jealous of the man who took you against your will.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” I say.
Henry wanders away, rambling about Vegas and which news outlets he’ll invite. I don’t know how to tell him. And what’s worse, I’m afraid to tell him. Afraid because he can be volatile. But I have to tell him. I take a deep breath and move into the kitchen, closer to the front door.
“Henry,” I say, loudly enough to interrupt him. “I still have to tell you something.”
“Go ahead, darling.” He smiles, his fingers hovering over his phone.
I inhale sharply. “Henry I can’t marry you.” The words tumble out of my mouth abandon.
He’s silent for a moment before his eyes narrow. “What?”
“I can’t marry you,” I repeat, clenching my hands together.
“You’re distraught from the terror of your experience,” he says. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Yes, I do,” I say insistently. “Henry, I can’t marry you. Things have changed for me since I’ve been gone. I feel differently about you and about my life. I have to do what’s best for me.”
He laughs humorlessly. “You’re not going anywhere.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What?”
“The kidnapped bride leaving the heartbroken groom is not the way this story ends,” he hisses. “You will marry me.”
“Drag me up to that altar and I’ll say no,” I snap.
Henry glowers at me. He stalks through the kitchen towards me, but I hold my ground. “I have done everything for you,” he growls. “You would be nothing without me. You would be living in that hole in the wall in Brooklyn with no savings. Your parents will be in debt for the rest of their lives without me.”
“That’s something I’ll have to live with.” I back away from him, eyes narrowed.
Suddenly, his fist is raised above me, his face is red with anger. Fear courses through me, I’ve never been hit by a man before. I close my eyes and imagine that Altair bursts through the door. I imagine that he snatches Henry’s wrist and breaks it with a simple squeeze. I imagine that he whisks me out of this apartment and back to the portal, wherever it is now.
But when I open my eyes, Altair isn’t there. And Henry is still hovering over me. The rage in his eyes fades slowly as I stare at him. He lowers his arm, though his fist is still clenched at his side. “Get out,” he croaks. “I don’t want to see you again. I’ll leave your shit on the sidewalk for you to pick up.”
“Donate it,” I say, my hand already on the doorknob. “Where I’m going, I don’t need it.”
Chapter 15
Altair
Blood spurts from the Bloodbane witch’s throat, coating my claws in hot, sticky liquid. I soar upwards into the bright blue sky before wheeling around for another attack. My men are on the ground, fighting against the Bloodbane witches that have crossed our borders yet again. The clang of their swords against the witches’ daggers is loud. Dressed in light, golden armor, my soldiers stand bright against the maroon of the witches’ cloaks.
The witches have grown more brazen since Maaz made her appearance at the ball. This is the largest group that has ever been spotted so close to Desmarais. A coven of fifty witches equipped with their poison arrows and daggers. I grit my teeth, picturing Maaz in my mind. She’s behind this little invasion. It’s a message to me that she will have what she wants; my kingdom.
I dart towards the ground, wings pinned to my back. The witches shout, and a volley of arrows flies towards me. I clip my wings out enough to direct my drop and avoid the poisonous tips, darting between them. Just a few meters off the ground, I spread my wings to stop my fall and glide over the Bloodbanes. I snatch one of them in my jaws and crush her spine. She squeals before falling abruptly silent.
I toss her aside and her body falls back to the ground with a sickening thud. I bank right, towards a Bloodbane in the back of the fight, staying out of the fray. She’s working on a spell; I can smell it in the air—something burning. I streak towards her, claws outstretched. The witch pivots, her hood falling down to her shoulders. She’s young, barely out of adolescence. That doesn’t stop my claws from shredding through her.
My heart clenches in my chest as her corpse falls to the ground. She didn’t look much younger than Verity. Of course, the witch was far older in truth, but in
