Secret Marriage with My Demon Stepfather ( A Dark Fantasy Romance)

Episode 7

Dr. Parashar’s death just before our appointment... It doesn’t feel right—

“Mira,” Mom called, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.

“Can you go and check on Edward, please?” she asked. “Just to see if he is okay." I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“Yes, Mom,” came my automatic response. But as I moved up the stairs, with every step I wanted to go the opposite way. I couldn’t bear to be in the same room as him, or even near him. Edward had moved out of the room he shared with Mother the moment we returned. Mom is trying to look composed and unbothered, but I can’t even begin to imagine what it feels like for her. Nine years of marriage, and now Edward is a stranger.

I went to the first floor and stood outside the guest room door. I was ready to knock, but then I pulled my hand back. Remembering the past few days, would this be the same? Right now, outside the door, every interaction between us seems like a long-lost dream. What would he be like now?

I finally gathered enough nerve to knock, but no reply came. I knocked again; when silence followed, I twisted the knob and pushed the door ajar slightly.

“Edward,” I tentatively called. Still no reply. Forget it. I opened the door. “Edward!” I called again. Looking around the room, I saw the guest room was decorated in cool neutral colors with a luxurious four-poster bed, lamps on both sides, and a walk-in closet that was wide open. But my eyes fell first on the wheelchair. It was empty.

“Edward!” This time I raised my voice. There was no servant here to help him. When no reply came, I went to the walk-in closet; the only things I could see were a few formal and casual clothes, neatly lined. A servant had definitely helped with that.

“Where is he?” I whispered to myself. I turned slightly toward the full-length mirror—and gasped, nearly jumping out of my skin. Edward's dark eyes were looking at me with a void, stoic expression through the reflection.

“Were you looking for me, little bird?” His voice seemed deeper than before.

“Why do you call me that?!” I turned back quickly, looking at him and realizing he was nearly naked, with only a towel covering his lower half. Water dripped from the ends of his dark hair. His chest muscles glistened, and I could see them flexing under his skin as he stepped forward. I stepped back automatically.

“Because your heart always races like a little bird’s when you are near me.”

I put my hand to my chest, over my heart. I felt the pounding underneath. How did he know that?

“Well, stop calling me that,” I said, glancing at his state of undress again before looking away, flushed. “Wear something, will you?” I snapped. My gaze fell to his feet. “How are you standing? The doctor said—”

“The doctor is dead,” he deadpanned, his words taking the warmth out of the air itself. “There wasn’t much he knew about what he was dealing with.” His words settled in my chest with a heaviness that scattered my already spiraling thoughts.

“Do you know how he died?” I asked before I could even form a proper thought. His slow, answering smirk sent ice down my spine. I looked him over; he was too close and too tall, and none of the easygoing vibe I used to know remained.

“What did you do?”

“What do you think?”

I looked at him with wide eyes, words sputtering in my mouth. No, no, this can’t be right. I took a deep breath. Mom... Mom, I have to—

I tried to step out quickly, thinking only about dashing downstairs, but his arms snaked around my waist before I could even exit the closet. A drop of water from his hair fell on the shell of my ear and I shivered; his damn cold skin felt like fire against my back. I felt every hard curve of his body against mine. Fear gripped my heart.

“Let go—” His hand came over my mouth.

“Shh... little bird,” he muttered darkly in my ear. “Don’t make any noise.”

I kicked my feet and squirmed, struggling against his strength. The tip of his nose brushed the shell of my ear and trailed down the length of my neck, where he softly kissed the point of my pulse.

“Stay still, or do you want your mother to be in the healer’s place?”

Healer’s place? What? Doctor... I froze. “You...” my voice was muffled.

I felt his lips pull into an insolent smile against my skin. My training kicked in; I slammed my elbow into his sternum. The impact forced him back, causing a sudden tremor in his hold. I clawed at his fingers, tearing his palm from my lips, but he was a shadow in motion. He turned me around to face him, shoving me hard against the glass. Before I could even gasp, he had my wrists pinned high above my head, trapping me.

“Why?!” I tried to twist my wrists out and kick him, but his hold was almost inhuman. It was like fighting a brick wall.

“I knew what you were planning,” he leaned closer. I stood on my toes to create whatever space I could between us.

“I was planning nothing! You need help!” I hissed.

“Yes, yes, I do,” he whispered so close to my lips that they brushed against mine. Every muscle in my body went taut with tension; my pulse raced. “Your help,” he whispered.

“I am engaged!” I tried to push him. “You are my stepfather!” I hissed and tried to push harder, but the length of his body was pressed against mine. I swallowed. “I don’t think you understand our—your—situation!”

I wanted to scream, but as I looked at his face, I found I didn't want him to stop. I recognized how strange he was, from his eyes to the curve of his lips and the way his body felt against mine.

“No, no,” I said helplessly. “No, no,” I whispered, the words escaping in a helpless breath. The smirk that played on his lips stirred an unfamiliar sensation within me. This is wrong. “Let go of me, or I will scream.”

“No, you won’t,” he whispered darkly.

My lips parted, and I sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes were no longer green; they were black and void, staring right into my soul. His hold on me was so tight I knew it would leave a mark. He leaned into me, our lips nearly touching, and my heart lodged in my throat.

“Back to the matter. I do need help, but not—” He stopped, his eyes drooped, and a cloudiness came over his gaze as his grip loosened. He stumbled back, and I noticed a trickle of blood appear under his nose. He looked into my eyes one last time before he collapsed.