#5: Ancient Pacts

My wedding veil choked me with each second that passed.

My one-night stand was my husband? 

Here, right before me, standing at the altar with about a hundred people as witnesses, he appeared less dangerous than he did yesterday. It was clear now that this man belonged in the better parts of town and not in a tavern. Never in a tavern.

My hands would not stop shaking. Pain throbbed behind my eyes. My knees buckled. And yet, I still stood in place, staring at the man that would be my husband in the next few minutes.

He was so kind yesterday. Kinder than I would have normally expected with the kind of crazy plan I had. This was good. By some weird way of the fates, I had landed in the hands of a good prisoner.

The priest’s words blurred together, and I only shifted my attention away from my new prisoner when I was prompted to say, “I do.”

Perhaps only a fickle moment in time went by before the priest announced, “You may now kiss the bride.”

It could have been the myriad of feelings that were swarming through me then, but I could swear that the world stilled for us. A gust of warm air hit my face as Lord Aubrey lifted my veil, and I took a deep breath as I really gazed at him for the first time today. 

He stood taller than me, just like before, and his black hair fell in strands, shaping his face well. My eyes then fell to his rosy pink lips, and I couldn't help but notice how they were in a tight straight line. He didn’t smile. His eyes didn’t hold the warmth they did last night. He just stood and looked at me… like I was another task to wipe off of his to-do list.

Without warning, he leaned down. Memories from last night played before me. The way he asked for permission before he kissed me. The way he demanded control and yet guided me at the same time. The way he looked at me as though I were more than a crazy stranger.

Our lips touched, and I was forcefully brought back to reality. There was nothing in this kiss. It was brief. Emotionless. Cold.

Cheers erupted from the crowd, but it all felt like noise. Noise that I felt like I desperately needed to escape from.

Luckily for me, we didn’t stay there too long, and soon we were out of the cathedral.

My parents might as well have been the happiest they had been in years, and they had every right to be by their books. They had just traded one of their daughters for a finer position in society. 

So that was it? Trade off one daughter and forget that the other one ever existed.

The need to escape everyone gnawed at me even harder. I needed to escape. But look where that landed me earlier?

“Mrs. Aubrey, your mother asked that I escort you to the carriage,” a sharp voice pulled me out of my misery, and when I turned to find its owner, my eyes met a woman about my age. I recognized her. She was Thelma, Ophelia’s favorite maid.

Seeing her hurt more than the wedding.

With a single nod, I allowed her to lead me to the carriage that was supposed to lead me to my new world. It appeared even finer than the carriage I had used in getting here. The cushions were a soft velvet and even the air smelled sweet. Of course a man like him owned something like this.

Getting in, I held my breath and waited for my husband to join me.

What I didn’t expect was for Thelma to get in behind me and shut the carriage doors.

My fingers tingled and my ears rang. Before I could even utter a word, Thelma reached into her petticoat and brought forward a piece of paper.

“What is this, Thelma?” I asked, my voice heavy.

The calm expression she wore earlier shifted to one of panic in an instant. “It’s from your sister. She wanted me to tell you she is safe and that she is sorry about all of this… and for everything. She explains everything in this letter,” she told me, before shoving the paper in my hands.

All of Thelma’s words brushed over me, but not without each one digging cuts of betrayal into my skin. The tears I had been holding back began to resurface, and I could hardly seem to hold myself together anymore.

“She had been planning this for a long time now, hadn’t she? And she didn’t bother to tell me, but she could tell you… and she just left without so much as a g-good bye?” The words fell out of my mouth in a frenzy as my voice varied in pitch.

Thelma shook her head. “That’s far from it. Just read the letter and then you’d understand… be careful, Lady Quinn.”

Before I could open my mouth for more argument, Thelma basically ran out of the carriage, locking the door behind her.

Yet, I was still so full of this pent-up rage, sorrow, and all-around confusion, and I had absolutely nothing else to do with it other than open the letter, and so I did.

It read:

Dear Quinn,

I’m sorry.

I know you must hate me right now, and you have every right to. But if I stayed, they would have buried me in silk and called it a wedding.

I found Father’s ledgers a month ago. The payments. The names. The symbols written in red.

We aren’t rich because of trade. We were never rich on our own. We’re rich because of them and they aren’t men, Quinn.

They wear skin like costumes during the day. At night… they aren’t human. I heard one of them outside Father’s study. The sound it made didn’t belong to anything God created.

And our family made a deal with them centuries ago and now they have come to take a daughter in exchange for gold.

It’s happened before us. It will happen after us.

I was supposed to be next.

That’s why I pushed you to live a little. To have something before they locked you into a cage like they planned for me. I wish I could have told you sooner, but they were watching me and I hate myself for leaving you like this.

I am so so sorry

Mother doesn’t care whether we love or breathe or beg. Only that the pact is honored.

So I ran.

Call me selfish. Call me a coward because that is what I am. I didn’t want to die.

And if they chose you instead… again, I am so, so sorry.

If the man you marry feels wrong, if he looks at you too long, don’t let him smell your fear, and don’t let yourself trust him.

And Quinn?

If you ever get the chance to run. Run!

Love you always,

Ophelia.

My heart thundered against my chest.

I slept with a monster last night?

I had just married a monster?

My parents had sold their souls?!

Air wouldn’t reach my lungs. Black spots danced at the edge of my visions. I could have sworn that I was ready to meet my maker.

The doors of the carriage flew open, and on instinct, I hid Ophelia’s letter behind me. I guess speed was magically granted to me when it was a matter of life or death.

Dark brown eyes regarded me up and down, and my heart found a new reason to throw a fit. “I know what you are.” My mouth was faster than my head.

“Funny,” Lord Aubrey said softly. “You didn’t seem afraid when you begged to share my bed last night.”