Page 35 of The Devils' Darling

And she shouldn’t be made to marry me.

Her chest hitches in a small sob.

“Did he touch you?” I have to ask.

I don’t want to hear the answer, but I can’t not know. If I want to be there for her, then I need to know everything, no matter how bad things get.

But she shakes her head, and I almost collapse with relief.

A male voice comes from the top of the stairs. “Go on, Father. Down the stairs. Everyone is waiting for you.”

A short man in his sixties appears. He’s clearly anxious, his expression troubled. When he takes the first couple of steps, I see why. Rufus is behind him with a gun aimed at his head.

Fuck. Are we seriously going to get married with a priest at gunpoint? Each time I think this can’t possibly get more messed up, things step up a level.

Grigoriy moves away from Mackenzie and comes to the cage. He unlocks the gate, swings it open, and steps back.

“Come on, then. This is your big moment. Don’t let me down, son.”

I’m just grateful to be out of the cage. Though it wasn’t like the bars stopped me seeing out, being free of them makes me weak with relief. Now, if only I can get us both out of this basement, but I guess it’s going to take marrying Mackenzie to do that.

I’m not hesitant for my sake. I’d happily marry her tomorrow, but she’s already told me, clear as day, that this isn’t what she wants. I know she’s worried about Dom and Tino, too, about what will happen to the four of us. She’s right to be worried. They also made their feelings clear. The bruises Dom gave me when he found out I’d proposed have barely had the chance to fade.

My father’s gaze drops down my body, and then back up to my face. “We should have gotten you a suit, but it’s too late now. Come here. Stand beside your bride.”

I do as I’m told, standing beside her, in front of the priest. She doesn’t look at me, and I can’t blame her. Don’t young girls grow up with the idea of how they want their weddings to be? Don’t they play dress-up, and imagine who their future husbands will be? If Mackenzie ever did that, I guarantee she never pictured things going like this. In a basement, with a terrified priest, and a collar around her neck.

I close my eyes and duck my head. Shame soaks through me, into my skin, penetrating my muscles, sinking right down to the bone.

What kind of man am I? I’d fucked her while she’d been cuffed to the bars by a collar, naked apart from her panties. I’d fucked her while two strange men were watching, and then they’d come over her, too.

How could I do that to her? I’m supposed to love her, and instead of protecting her, I was the one who needed her comfort.

I want to punch myself in the side of the head, to throw myself against the bars of the cage until I break my bones. I’m a pathetic excuse of a man. How could I allow her to be desecrated like that, when she was already dripping with the cum of two other men, and she’d had my semen still leaking from between her thighs?

Those same men are down in the basement with us now. They stare at her with hungry eyes. She’s a thing to them—a vessel to be used—and I treated her no differently.

But even as I’m thinking these things, my body reacts to her presence, blood flowing to my cock. Jesus Christ. When she was collared and on her knees, covered in cum, all I’d wanted to do was to grab her hair and thrust my cock into her mouth and fuck her face while tears flowed down her cheeks. I’d wanted to come down her throat, and fill her mouth, so she coughed and choked, and my cum trickled from the corners of her lips.

Realization hits me hard and fast. I’m the same as him. The same as the man I hate. Deep down, I share his sickness. In time, will I become him? If I do, I’m ruining her by marrying her.

“Let’s begin,” Grigoriy says to the priest.

My head snaps up. “No.”

She’s too good for this. She deserves so much better than me. Better than any of us.

“Kirill,” she says, her voice breathy, “it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. None of this is fucking okay.”

My father unholsters his weapon. “Do not push me, Kirill. I said you will marry your woman and give us an heir. You need to grow up and become a man.”

“No,” I say again.

Mackenzie’s small hand slips into mine. I can’t help but look at her. Tears shine in her eyes.

“Please, let’s just do it,” she begs. “We can figure everything else out after.”

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