Page 15 of A Debt of Darkness

“I’ll explain you have other plans,” Ryan says, failing to conceal his smirk. “They’ll understand, but we shouldn’t wait too long before introducing her.”

The last thing on my mind is how to introduce her to mycoven. It won’t happen until I’m satisfied Ivy has accepted her place. They can wait. I cannot.

I’m dangerously possessive, and one false move could provoke an unfortunate response. I’d regret it later, but that wouldn’t stop me from lashing out now. I’m too excited, too consumed. Anyone getting in the way of what I want is likely to experience the extent of my power, and Ryan stands still, reading my mood with unnerving accuracy.

“Fresh refreshments were sent to her room. Would you prefer I send them to yours?”

I shake my head and he bows his.

Ivy moans again and I snatch her into my arms, clutching her against me as I turn and race to her bedroom. I’d prefer my room, but she’ll be more comfortable in hers and we don’t need any further delays. She senses my agitation—or determination—and her delicate heart races. I’m surprised something so small puts her on edge, but things will change by the end of tonight.

I lock the door behind me, preventing unwanted interruptions.

“I don’t feel…”

“It’s okay,” I say, gently. “I’ve got you now.”

Her glazed over eyes stare at me, reaching for me through her daze. I don’t like it. I want their spark, their fire. I want them to dazzle me again. I want her resistance so I can crush it.

“I feel funny,” she mumbles. “What happened?”

I press a soft kiss against her forehead and she doesn’t flinch. It’s good. She’s accepted this, accepted me. I’d prefer her to show me, but she is too stunned to react.

“You fainted, Ivy. You haven’t eaten enough.”

“Is it done?”

Her eyes well with tears and I don’t want them. Not over this. Not at the thought of being my wife. She isn’t and she won’t understand the nuances of what we are and the difference between our ties and those of marriage. She doesn’t understand how significant she is to me, yet she’s upset by being something even less important.

“The wedding?” I swallow, hoping I’m mistaken.

She nods and I wish she hadn’t.

“Yes,” I say. “You’re mine.”

Ivy stutters.

“And I’m yours.”

She cries.

I don’t want these tears. Not these bitter, broken ones made from disgust and loathing.

“It’s okay. You’ll understand. In time, you’ll realize how precious you are.”

Her lip trembles, and she’s on the verge of collapse. She’s about to plunge into despair and I won’t let this happen. Not tonight. Neither of us deserves this.

“You’ve barely eaten since you arrived. You’ll feel better once you’ve had food.” I risk appearing desperate and she seems confused. “Please, Ivy. Eat.” I double down and swallow. “For me. Just a little. Please.”

Her teeth roll over her bottom lip and she resists the urge to bite it. Ivy’s hungry and she’s torn, eager to eat, but resisting anything I offer on principle. Her eyes flick to the buffet and back to mine, and there’s a spark again. She needs a little push and I dip my head, begging her to give in.

“Fine,” she says, huffing.

I refuse to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory and I place her on the sofa, fetching a small plate of food. She reachesfor it and when I pull it back, her eyebrows furrow. She hasn’t played this game before and although I won’t push it tonight, teaching her manners is going to be both excruciating and exhilarating.

Ivy watches as I hold a canape in front of her mouth. Her eyes widen, but her pupils dilate and her jaw nudges forward ever so slightly. Ivy has guessed the game and she doesn’t like it. She’s hungry and she’s convincing herself she’s being clever by resisting.

She isn’t and I’m going to win this.

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