CHAPTER 1 — The Demon’s Bride
Evelyn slammed the chapel doors open and stormed down the aisle, heels clicking on the stone floor. Blood ran from her thorn-cut palms and soaked into the black gown. She was late. Way too late.The organ cut off mid-note. Silence crashed down.Blackthorn servants sat like statues. Ashford relatives wouldn’t meet her eyes. No one moved. No one spoke.She reached the steps and stopped her breath ragged.Lucius Blackthorn waited there, arms loose at his sides,dressed in black like death itself. Tall. Broad. His raven black hair cascaded down his face. He didn’t speak. He just watched her come, eyes never leaving her face.The priest jumped straight into the vows, voice shaking. “Do you, Amelia Ashford, take”“I do,” Evelyn snapped, cutting him off.Lucius grabbed her hand before the priest even finished turning the page. His fingers locked around hers hot, tight, impossible to pull away from. He slide the ring on slowly. His thumb brushed her knuckle once, deliberate. A shock ripped through her body. She clenched her jaw to hide the gasp.“Do you, Lucius Blackthorn, take...”“I do,” he said, low and flat his gaze still locked on her .The priest rushed the rest. “You may kiss the bride.”Evelyn braced.Lucius stepped in close. She expected him to be rough and brutal. Instead, his hand cupped her jaw gently, and his mouth met hers soft but firm,like he already owned it. Heat exploded through her body. For one second her lips parted against his before she remembered who he was and jerked back.Fake claps echoed once, then died down.He seized her arm and marched her back down the aisle. His grip bruised. She matched his stride, refusing to stumble.They burst into the reception hall. Food sat untouched on silver platters. Wine glasses raised in fake toasts that never reached their lips. Whispers followed her like ghosts.“…finally paid the debt…”Evelyn snatched a goblet from a servant and downed it in three gulps.The wine burned her throat. She needed it to stop shaking.Lucius watched her the entire time. Never looked away.“You’re shaking,” he said quietly, leaning close so only she heard.“I’m fine,” she snapped.He tilted his head. “Most brides cry, faint or beg.”“I’m not most brides and I’m not going to beg.” His fingers tightened on her arm. “You will.”Her stomach flipped.A servant appeared at his side and bowed low. “My lord, the bridal suite is prepared.”Evelyn’s heart slammed against her ribs. Tradition demanded they go now to consummate their marriage which is a sign for sealing the contract.Lucius dragged her toward the stairs. She yanked her arm but he didn’t let go. They climbed fast. She counted the steps to keep from panicking.He kicked the bedroom door open.She stumbled inside and spun around, ready to fight. I’m not going sleep with you tonight. Pick any of the excuses as the reason for it I'm sick, tired, and the worst of it all I'm freaky bleeding. Lucius shut the door behind him. Click. Locked.He didn’t move toward the bed. He stayed by the door and stared.Evelyn backed up until her legs hit the mattress. “Say something.”He took one step forward. Slow.Another.Evelyn backed up until her legs hit the mattress. “Say something.”He took one step forward. Slow.Another.He stopped inches away. Close enough she felt his heat.She lifted her chin. “Back off.”He didn’t.Instead he leaned in, mouth near her neck. He breathed in deep. Once. Twice.Evelyn froze.He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.“You smell different from the bride I chose.”
