Page 2 of The Monster

Danger comes off him in waves, but strangely, for reasons unknown to me, I feel safe around him. God knows I can’t remember the last time I felt this way.

At home, I was always on guard—from my father, my sisters, my stepmother. I didn’t know what I would wake up to or come home to. Would they “accidentally” spill water on me or steal my books or tear my clothes? I wish I could say these things stopped when my three sisters left the house and got married, but my stepmother took it upon herself to continue the tradition of making me suffer.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss!”

In a normal wedding with a normal couple, that will be met with cheers and applause. But no one claps, no one whistles. The weight of hundreds of eyes press down on me.

The priest’s words hang in the air, echoing in the massive church. The silence is suffocating and oppressive, as if the cavernous space has drawn a collective breath and held it.

Nikolai moves closer to me, and I make a mental scan of my feelings. Fear is nowhere to be found. Instead, there’s curiosity.

He has full lips, and I wonder if it’s going to feel soft on my own. Is he about to give me a quick kiss, or will he force his tongue inside my mouth?

I shouldn’t feel excitement and anticipation thrumming in my veins, but I do. Jesus, I do. What is wrong with me? A few minutes ago, I was about to pass out from terror. And now, I’m … turned on?

Nikolai leans forward, head dropping to my level. Even at 5’6 and with four-inch heels on, he towers above me.

He brushes his lips along my cheeks, and something tugs low in my belly, but he doesn’t kiss me on the lips. Disappointment tastes bitter on my tongue, and I can’t believe I’m briefly entertaining the idea of making the first move instead.

His breath tickles my ear as he whispers, “Do not ever fear me, wife. I am your husband, and I will lay down my life for you.”

I’m still trying to process what he said when he plants a chaste kiss on my cheek and straightens back to his full height, his face devoid of expression, his eyes betraying nothing.

What have I gotten myself into?

2

NIKOLAI

My brothers called her the “plainest, dullest, most uninteresting Scranton” and the one who didn’t look like her sisters. They meant it as condescending, but I’m glad.

I’m glad she doesn’t look like anyone but herself.

Nina Scranton’s beauty hits me as solid as a punch. Her eyes are like pools of honey, the same color as her hair. She has a dimple on her chin and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks that even her makeup could not cover.

The soft cheekbones, the soft, plump lips.

My God, she’s perfect. Whoever called her plain was either blind or a fool or both.

And I’m about to sully her with my filth.

Two months ago, when my eldest brother, Ivan, casually commanded me to marry a Scranton, I didn’t think too much of it. I was used to receiving orders and carrying them out without question. It was just one of them.

Two powerful families from different parts of the world and leaders in their respective industries. Unifying through marriage. It’s a tale as old as time.

But as I hold her close after the farce of a wedding ceremony, the soft strains of music filling the air around us, I can’t fathom that she’s my wife. Barring the fact that we just met on our wedding day and we were both forced to marry, she feels unreal. The world falls away, and it’s just the two of us—my hands on her waist and her arms around my neck.

My blood tingles under my skin, and I fear that I can’t make myself release her once the song ends.

When she refused to look at me as she walked down the aisle and stood beside me, my heart sank. I couldn’t blame her. I look hideous. People, especially kids, run the other way when they see me. That’s not unwarranted, though. I am a monster inside and out—something I have to live with for the rest of my godforsaken life.

I’m so wrapped up in my head that it takes me a few seconds to realize she’s trembling slightly. Her eyes are on the buttons of my shirt, as if those are the most interesting things she’s ever seen.

The realization that she doesn’t want anything to do with me cracks me open. Obviously, I don’t expect her to fall in love with me or even be excited at the prospect of having me as a husband.

It still stings, however. The best I can do is put her mind at ease. That despite everything she heard about me—and I know she heard plenty—I’m the last person she should be afraid of.

“What are you scared of, little wife? Or should I call you Nina?”

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