Page 27 of Break Her Heart
“I wasn’t sure what I could believe of the things you told me,” I muttered, watching as another vampire laughed with a mouth full of blood.
“I kept things from you,” he said, turning back to the room, “but only because I thought it was best.”
Guilt surged up again, churning my stomach and battering against every wall I had so carefully rebuilt.
No.I couldn’t feel bad for him.
Not after everything he had decided to take from me.
“When is the wedding?”
He tilted his head to the side and smiled at me. But it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His hair fell loose across his forehead, a pale curtain in the flickering light. I had to fight the ridiculous urge to reach up and smooth it back. To touch him like I used to. Like nothing had changed.
But everything had.
“So eager to marry me, Winnie?” he asked, amused, but there was something frayed at the edges. Something brittle.
I didn’t flinch. “Eager to know my brother is safe.”
He rolled his shoulders, a slow shrug that seemed more like a show of strength than anything else. “In a couple of days. It takes time to plan these things. But I told them to be as quick as they can.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Plan what exactly?”
He turned his face fully toward me, the candlelight catching the glint in his deep brown eyes. “Do you think this is going to be a hidden wedding?Me?”
My stomach tightened. “And until then, I’m supposed to just sit here and let everyone stare at me?”
He leaned closer, and I could feel the chill radiating off him despite the warmth of the room. His voice dropped to a rasp meant only for me. “No. You know what we’ll be doing until then.”
A thrill of heat curled low in my traitorous stomach. I hated the way he looked at me and that I still wanted him to.
But it was nothing but my body betraying me.
I may be playing this game with him now, but I had already made up my mind. After we stopped Carrow—after I knew that my brother was safe—I was going to kill him and every vampire in this castle.
9
Bronwen
I glanced down the road, nerves coiled tight beneath my skin as I waited for someone—anyone—to spend the night with. I was on edge, but I kept reminding myself no women had gone missing in several months. I just had to find someone and get back inside before the sun disappeared completely below the horizon. I never imagined I would become one of those women waiting on the street for a man. My mother had always kept me far from this part of town and yet, here I was.
It was easy, though. Bat my lashes, fake a giggle when they flirted poorly, and count down the minutes until sunrise. I waited a while, until a man with several missing teeth zeroed in on me. I quickly spun around and pretended to be interested in the crumbling brickwork of a nearby building,
Gods, was I really being picky?
I glanced at the sky again, nerves grinding tighter, and I was just about to give up when I laid eyes on one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen.
His hair was white and tousled, like snow that had never settled. It framed a face that was both sharp and unfairly perfect, his skin pale and smooth, his lips full. His eyes were dark—depthless, endless—and locked onto mine like they could swallow every thought I’d ever had. He was tall, easily over a head above the crowd, and dressed in a long, tailored coat that shimmered like starlight. Everything about him screamed wealth, power, and danger.
What was he doing on this side of town? Surely it was for the parties or the extra strong wine. There was no way he was here looking for someone like me. But he was coming straight to me.
He stopped just in front of me, his smile lingering as his dark eyes swept over me with far too much interest. “What’s your name?”
“Elira,” I answered, lifting my chin slightly.
He repeated it, letting the syllables stretch over his tongue. “Elira. Funny. I think that means to be free.”
I raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to be flattered or alarmed. “What are you looking for?”
