Page 128 of Through the Water

You take down a monster by exposing it.

Maybe I was the only one who could stop this. And death in battle was still preferable to a life spent in chains.

“You’re too late,” I croaked hoarsely as his hand moved to the belt around my throat. “Killian.”

The lie was bitter against my tongue, but I was no longer asking for forgiveness from any God who would allow this.

Brad recoiled. “What?”

Ignoring the wave of dizziness, I pushed myself up onto my elbows and forced out, “I’m not a virgin. I gave myself to Killian. If you don’t believe me, call Sister Helene to check.”

He backed away from me and for a split second, I almost believed it was over. But then he lifted the lamp off my nightstand and hurled it at the wall with a guttural roar. “You slut!”

The mattress suddenly tipped, and I tumbled backward, coming down hard on my left hip.

“You were supposed to be mine!” he bellowed. “Mine!”

I couldn’t see him, but the sounds of destruction told me he was still on the other side of the room. Something shattered as it hit the floor and I crawled to the nearest wall, tucking my arms and legs to my chest.

The door flew open, and a shaft of light from the hall cut across the room, illuminating Brad—or at least, someone who used to be him. His skin was mottled with rage, the muscles and veins straining against his skin as he trashed my room.

I winced when the overhead light flipped on, blinking until my pupils constricted enough for me to see that my bedroom floor was now littered with glass and splintered wood.

Morgan stood by the switch with her hand pressed to her lips, scanning the room. When her eyes met mine, she nodded and tucked her back to the wall, side-stepping to avoid the half-naked mad man in the center of the room.

Brad let out a harsh breath, and the room fell silent. I ignored Morgan’s outstretched hands and jerked my head back toward him, coming face to face with the very thing that had captured his attention.

My treasures.

All the things I’d diligently stowed beneath my bed over the years were now strewn across the floor like discarded toys.

* * *

Tristan stood in front of the fireplace in his office, his hands clasped behind his back. “You’ve been keeping things from me, little dove,” he said coldly.

“So have you,” I bit out from the chair in front of his desk. My treasures had been spread across it like contraband. I balled my hands into fists against the armrests, keeping my eyes on his. Despite the fire burning a few feet away, I couldn’t stop shivering.

Maybe because I knew what was to come.

He shook his head, seemingly ignoring my accusation while staring absently into the flames. “Helene says it’s true—you united your soul with an unbeliever’s.”

I tore my eyes from his profile and lowered my head, admitting, “I love Killian. If you’d just give him a chance—get to know him—”

“Know him? What’s to know? He’s just like the rest of the world!” he roared, pivoting to face me. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I began, shrinking back when Tristan stalked toward me. “I didn’t want to fall in love with him, it just happened.”

His nostrils flared as he grabbed my well-loved copy of Pride and Prejudice from his desk, waving it in front of the fire. “Your sins will cost you, little dove.”

“Please,” I whispered, reaching toward him. “It’s mine.”

Tristan tsked and tossed the book into the fire. “Nothing is yours.”

I jumped to my feet with a strangled gasp, only to drop back into my chair when the vein popped out in his neck.

“Why are you doing this?” I squeaked; my voice still rough from being choked. He moved behind my chair, forcing me to crane my neck to keep him in my sights. His large hands came down against my shoulders. I shuddered at the feel of his fingers curling over my collarbones.

Tears blurred my vision as I brokenly whispered, “You’ve already won.”

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