Page 8 of Beautiful Scar

“It’s now or never,” Arsen says, sounding regretful. “Help your new wife to her feet and support her. Let’s get this over with.”

Tigran’s hands are strong and firm as he takes me by the arms. It’s like I’m nothing as he lifts me up and sets me down. I wobble in my ridiculous heels, and he steadies me. The man’s a rock in a churning sea.

Stupid freaking shoes.

I should’ve worn sweats.

There are eyes on me, so many eyes staring. Embarrassment flushes my skin. At least a dozen more people are waiting in the pews. They’re watching, their attention crushing me.

But I keep coming back to him.

My future husband.

He’s got a raw, vicious look to him. Like the suit he’s wearing barely hides the killer underneath. His skin’s covered in dark stubble, and his eyes are a deep, deadly brown. I like his hands most of all: big, gnarled, callused from use. His full lips press into a hard line as he gently helps guide me to the end of the aisle and positions me across from him in front of a bewildered-looking old priest.

My scar tingles where he touched it.

“Let’s get this done,” Tigran says firmly.

The priest sputters awkwardly about love and devotion and begins to read from the Bible while I stare at my future husband. My father stands behind me while Arsen is behind Tigran. The room’s smoky and silent, and there are no smiles in sight. It’s like they’re attending a funeral instead of a wedding.

Which is how it feels for me.

I don’t know how I’m going to survive this. Panic swells up again. My breath starts coming faster, and Tigran’s expression hardens as he stares at me. Oh, god, I’m upsetting him already. I’m going to ruin this marriage before it even begins, and what’ll happen to me then?

I can’t let down Dad, and I definitely can’t fail thepakhan.

“Keep breathing,” Tigran murmurs to me. He reaches out and takes my hands in his. “Watch me,pisik. Me and me only.”

I bite my lip hard enough to hurt and stare at him. His eyes are a deep chocolate brown with little tinges of honey at the edges. They’re beautiful, so different from light-colored Russian ones. I’m used to blues, so many ice blues, but he’s not like the men I grew up with.

He’s the epitome oftall, dark, and handsome. His skin’s a deep tan. His lips are a soft pink. I hold his gaze, and it should be painful as hell. I can’t remember the last time I held eye contact with a total stranger.

But for some reason, it calms me down. Not all the way—I’m still freaking out—but enough that I don’t fall down on my face again.

“Vows now,pisik,” he whispers, hands squeezing mine. “Almost finished.”

I nod meekly, feeling small and silly. I’m the tiniest person in this stupid room. Any one of these men could crush me. Except I feel safe with Tigran’s hands in mine.

“Do you, Dasha, take Tigran to be your husband? Do you promise to be true to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health? Will you love and honor him all the days of your life?”

“I do,” I say, even if it’s not true. Love him? Honor him? I don’t even know this man.

The priest repeats the vows for Tigran, and he nods sharply. “I do,” he says, and I want to throw up.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Pennsylvania and by our Lord God, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may, uh, kiss the bride?”

I blink rapidly. Tigran steps forward, wrapping me in his arms. I let out a soft yelp, my hands pressed to his chest. I think I’m going to push him back, but holy shit, he’s got some serious muscles, and his arms are like iron bars. I shiver, remembering another cage, but it’s too late to stop this.

“Just for show,” he says before he presses his lips to mine.

Just for show, I think, as my brain glitches and his taste floods my mouth.

Forget some chaste church kiss—this is pure blistering heat and domination.

His tongue slips against mine as I get hints of coffee and whiskey. I’m pulled closer to him, into his strength and warmth, and I let out an actual freaking whimper, even though my dad’s like two feet away.

Our mouths are intertwined, and I don’t think I could stop this if I wanted to, which I absolutely don’t.

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