Page 58 of Aine

“I kicked at his stomach to get him off. He lost his balance and fell into the fireplace.”

My jaw clenches as I think back to that night.

He screamed in agony as the fire burned through his clothing and skin, his cries drawing the attention of our neighbors. I tried to help him out, but he was too drunk to think coherently and kept pushing me away. By the time the other villagers broke into our home and got him out, he was long gone.

They took one look at my ripped clothing and battered face and determined I must’ve pushed him in a fit of rage.

I begged and pleaded for them to understand it had been an accident, but they refused to believe my words. They were already upset with me for requesting a divorce months prior. Nothing I said made a difference.

Damien remains silent as he continues reading my file, his jaw clenching every few seconds. I can’t tell if that’s a good sign or not.

“Why do you have so many marks for ‘insufficient performance leading to husband’s dissatisfaction’?” he asks. “What does that mean?”

My eyes widen, surprised he’s asking about marks unrelated to the murder. I assumed my execution was all he cared about, but apparently, he intends to judge my performance as a whole before settling on a punishment.

“It can mean a couple of things, but I’m assuming most such marks were added whenever Henry was spotted leaving the brothel.” My cheeks flame.

Damien glances at me in surprise, his eyes wide as his pupils dilate slightly. “You’dget in trouble when he was unfaithful?”

I nod. “If I were a better performer, he wouldn’t have had to seek satisfaction outside of the marriage.” I repeat the words that have been spoken to me hundreds of times.

Damien rolls his eyes but remains quiet. The room is tense as he continues to read over the papers. I wish he’d say what he’s thinking, the unknown making me anxious.

“Are you going to have me executed?” My voice is noticeably shaky, my fear more apparent than I’d like it to be.

Damien lets out a deep exhale before meeting my gaze. “You’re my mate, Aine.” He looks mildly amused by my fear, his anger at my forceful bond seeming to dissipate the longer I remain in this room. “I’m not going to have you killed.”

My chest deflates, relief softening my muscles. While I’m sure the punishment I receive will be painful, I’m ecstatic it won’t be death.

“Whatareyou going to do?” I ask.

Damien hums, realigning the papers inside the binder before setting them on his desk. His movements are slow and calculated, and I feel my palms grow sweaty as I wait.

“Absolutely nothing, my little mate.”

I blink, disbelieving. “What?”

Damien’s face softens, the pity I hate to see thick in his eyes. I sniffle and glance at the floor, watching as his brown shoes appear in my peripheral vision. They stop directly in front of me, and his knees are quick to join as he crouches and puts his face in my direct line of sight.

“Why would I punish you for defending yourself?” he asks. “I’m not nearly as heartless as you think me to be.”

He stands before knocking my knee with his fist in an unmistakable gesture for me to get up. “Go have Jenna give you my blood. I don’t want to be feeling your sunburn all day long.”

Chapter Fourteen

DAMIEN

“You let hermark you,” Freya snaps.

I focus on the work laid out on my desk, uninterested in listening to her angry ramblings.

“We had a deal,” she says.

I can visualize her exact position without even looking. She’s standing with her right hip cocked, both hands resting on her waist. Her hair’s probably also tucked behind both her ears, and in a few seconds, she’ll start tapping her left foot against the floor.

Freya smirks as I look up at her.

I was right.

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