Page 203 of Owned

It was a sickening reminder of the hold he had not just over me, but over everything I loved.

“My sons, join with our guests in welcoming my bride to the family—”

My stepbrothers turned their backs on their father, unwilling to be a part of this grotesque display.

But Lucian didn’t seem to care about the insult. Applause and cheers rose around us again as he took hold of my hand and brought it to his lips. The kiss was cold, and lingered uncomfortably.

“Today marks a new era,” Lucian declared to the gathered crowd. Their collective gaze pierced through me and I would have been a fool to ignore the judgement I saw there. “I present to you—Avril Romano, heir of Withermarsh!”

His words wrapped around me like chains.

Stunned, I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t speak.

Even the entity seemed surprised, and she stared straight ahead as my vision blurred.

Tears?

“Don’t you dare cry!” I croaked. “Don’t youdare!”

“This was whatIshould have had,” the voice said in a dark whisper. “It’s nothisto give. This wasmine— it hasalwaysbeenmine.”

Confusion rippled through me as the magic surged again.

A cold creeping sensation that coiled around me.

It was Lucian’s power, and it pulled me toward him until my body was inexorably drawn into his dark embrace.

“Come here, my sweet Avril,” he whispered, and a predatory gleam lit up his pale eyes as he leaned closer. The scent of damp earth and decaying roses filled the space between us, and bile rose in my throat.

I closed my eyes tight as his lips met mine in an icy kiss—a sealing of our terrible pact.

The world blurred around me, lost in the intoxicating chaos of his magic, and I screamed even though my throat was raw and I was hollowed out by grief and helpless shame.

I didn’t feel the pressure of the kiss as it broke, just the absence of the coldness that had accompanied his possessive kiss.

“Now, we must make it official,” Lucian said. He stepped back with a self-satisfied smirk on his angular face and turned his attention to an ornate table draped in black velvet. A scroll hung with velvet ribbons and official seals lay in wait.

A contract.

With a flourish, he signed his name with deliberate strokes.

“Your turn, my dear wife,” he beckoned and motioned to the quill laid out for me.

The feather glimmered ominously under the dim light, the ink at the tip looked like blood.

Was I imagining it?Did it matter?

My hands trembled for only a moment until the entity regained its composure as my hand reached out for it.

“Isn’t this what you wished for?” the voice asked. “Power— Freedom—”

“Then why does it feel like a trap?” I cried.

It pressed the tip of the quill against the contract and signed my name with fluid grace. The ink flowed and sealed my fate in more ways than one.

As I finished and set the quill down, I glanced at Lucian’s satisfied smile, his triumph clearly written on his terrifyingly handsome face.

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