Page 8 of Reaper Flame

Giles winked. “I don’t mind it rough.”

“Really?” I mocked, grinning, and slowly ran my tongue over my teeth. The watching crowd cheered along in encouragement. They knew the Kitten’s reputation for her special methods. “Neither do I.”

Giles’s Adam’s apple bobbed wildly up and down as he turned an unsightly shade of green, clashing with his awful suit. Everyone said you had to kiss a few frogs to find a prince, but they didn’t mean it in a literal fucking sense. Hadn’t I suffered enough?

“Off with his head!” a voice shouted, followed by more threats of violence from people we’d never met before. “Slit… cut… rip...”

“What’s wrong, Giles?” I teased, twirling a strand of hair around my finger. “Not the kind of rough you had in mind?”

Despite his lousy macho charade, Giles was out of his depth. Hiram may be forcing me to marry, but I still had power. It was my freaking wedding, and watching Giles squirm would be my present.

The priest’s eyes darted nervously between us. His shifting gaze hinted at his growing regret of accepting a generous donation. “Are you ready for the ceremony to begin?”

“I’m ready for it to fucking end,” I replied without hesitation.

There were a few whistles and claps from the back of the church. Everyone loved it when the Kitten’s claws came out. Hiram’s laughter boomed above the rest. He always appreciated it whenever I carried out a job with theatrical flair. Entertaining the crowd would gain me his favor and let me distance myself from reality.

“Look, she’s playing hard to get!” the Blackbird said above the heckling. “But we all know Kitty has got a soft spot for Briarly men.”

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” I snarled, choosing to ignore the Blackbird through fear of giving the frail priest a heart attack at what I wanted to threaten.

The priest nodded, taking a giant inhale to brace himself.

Giles held out his sweaty palm. I frowned, looking at it in confusion. What did he expect me to do withthat? I scowled and slapped him away with a vicious swipe of my bouquet.

Giles yelped, pulling it back quickly and cradling his scratched fingers like a newborn. “Ouch!”

I rolled my eyes. What a crybaby. Hiram may not have allowed me to carry sharp weapons, but I could make use of anything at my disposal. Roses may look pretty, but those thorny fuckers could slice you open.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, shooting him my best look of innocent surprise. “Want me to kiss it better?”

A bead of sweat dripped down Giles’s forehead as his blush deepened. If he thought marrying me would be the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to his cousin, then he underestimated what he was getting into. Back in Port Valentine, Giles knew me as Candy, but here? I was the Kitten. Hiram’s merciless protégé. I made grown men fall to their knees and weep.

“Let’s start,” the priest stammered, his hands gripping tighter onto the Bible in his grasp. Puh-lease! It was too late to pray to God for protection. He should have thought harder before he agreed to host a wedding for Hiram.

The priest talked fast, stumbling over every other word. I zoned out as he rambled on. Blah-fucking-blah. What did it matter, anyway? None of this was real! His wordsmeantnothing.

Growing up, I was never the type of girl to fantasize about my dream wedding or practice my signature using the surname of my crush in high school. But I believed in marrying for love, and my nuptials couldn’t be further from that. I was stuck with a sleazy ginger asshole who was trying not to crap his pants in a church filled with bloodthirsty delinquents — definitely not scrapbook material.

The priest cleared his throat as we reached the pivotal part of the ceremony. “It’s time for your vows.”

Vows? More like empty fucking promises. When I joined the Sevens, Zander promised we would be bound for life. Vows were made to be broken.

“Do you have the rings?” the priest asked.

Giles pulled simple silver bands from his pockets, coating them in sweat and handing them over. Gross.

“Erm… Kitten…” The priest looked at Hiram, who nodded in approval. Using my pet name was an unorthodox request, but Hiram would have provided him with strict instructions to follow. Orders the priest was too terrified to break, even if it meant facing the wrath of God. The priest handed me a ring as Giles held out a quivering hand. “Do you take Giles Edward Briarly to be your husband?”

I took a deep breath. I didn’t need to turn around to know Hiram’s eyes burned into my back.

“Yes,” I said, my voice dripping with bitter resentment as the words rolled off my tongue. I pushed the ring onto Giles’s finger with enough force to try and deglove him. “I do.”

“Giles.” The priest addressed him. “Do you take… the Kitten… to be your wife?”

“I-I-I do,” Giles stammered.

Before he got the chance, I snatched the ring from him and put it on myself. A simple silver band. Lifeless. Impersonal. Un-fucking-wanted. Just like our marriage. Although, it wasn’t all bad…

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