Page 44 of Break Her Heart
The sound hit me like a wave, all thundering applause and sharp whistles. The great room was wilder than it had ever been. More vampires filled the room, dancing, kissing, drinking. They were chaos in motion, an unholy sea of movement and sound. But the moment we entered, their attention snapped toward us.
My hand was still bandaged from the ceremony, wrapped in fine linen now spotted faintly with blood. Some vampires noticed. I caught the way their eyes drifted toward it—how their nostrils flared and their pupils dilated. August had told me I couldn’t heal it because it would raise questions.
A few stepped forward to offer congratulations. I ignored them. I didn’t bow my head, didn’t offer a smile. One brushed my arm, murmuring something about sacrifice. Another dipped into a low, theatrical bow, their movements too exaggerated tobe sincere. I said nothing. I didn’t even blink. My gaze was locked forward, past them all.
August said nothing either. He merely walked beside me as if we were a matched pair. But I felt every inch of distance between us. Every step echoed with the tension we didn’t speak aloud.
We ascended the platform together, and the eyes of the court followed us like tethered ropes. When we reached our thrones, we sat in unison, two carved statues in a sea of living shadows.
The music resumed—strings and drums, frenzied and sharp—but it felt distant, disconnected. The vampires spun and twirled like shadows, elegant and careless, but I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I just simmered.
The weight of the crown on my head grew heavier with each passing second. The gold band on my finger sat like a shackle. My hand throbbed beneath the bandage, the ache syncing with the pulse behind my eyes. My teeth ached from how hard I was clenching my jaw. My spine was so stiff I thought it might snap.
The rage crept higher, inch by inch, like hot wax filling my veins. My thoughts spiraled—burning, blistering, sharp. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear every candle from the wall, rip my dress down the center, set the whole fucking castle on fire.
He had takeneverything.
And now he expected me to sit still and smile like a well-fed pet?
Not a chance.
I would make him bleed for every second he made me sit beside him like this.
I stood up, feeling the sudden shift in the room. Eyes flicked toward me. I half-expected August to stop me, to grip my wrist or say my name. But he stayed silent.
“Move,” I said to the guard that stepped in front of me when I made it to the stairs.
He hesitated, glancing over my shoulder to August.
“Do not look at him. I told you to move.” My voice cut through the music like a blade. “So move.”
He looked again, this time meeting August’s gaze. I turned to see August give him a single, slight nod. Permission. That infuriated me more than anything.
I descended the dais, each step echoing across the marble floor like a challenge. I didn’t glance back at August. Marrying him had not been my choice, and his smug stillness beside me as the ceremony ended had only made it worse.
Especially after he ripped my heart out.
The tables were covered in blood-red wine—no, just blood—and plates of half-eaten meat, steam still curling in the air. A few of them whispered as I passed. One dared to bow. I didn’t acknowledge him.
I moved toward the dance floor. The vampires spun and laughed, a haunting mix of beauty and malice. The music pounded like a second heartbeat. I was still in my wedding gown. I, dressed in white, stood out in the sea of darkness. I was their sacrifice. I tilted my chin higher, heart hammering from more than just the rhythm. I would not sit and be looked at like a doll. I would not be silent beside August like some prize he’d won.
Someone caught my hand.
A vampire—tall, pale, handsome in that ageless way they all were—grinned and pulled me into the dance. I let him. His hand was cold and strong, and he twirled me easily, as if I weighed nothing.
“So this is the little queen,” he said as we spun. “I thought you’d be taller.”
My brow twitched, but I said nothing.
“You know,” he sneered, “usually the human queen is kept locked away, used only for the ability to bear a child for Carrow’s bloodline to continue. But here you are. In the den where in onequick motion, you could become my next meal. What makes you so special?”
I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Would you like to find out?”
He laughed, low and cruel. “Oh, but I think I already know. Your scent is not just your own. Our dear King Augustus has marked you. You know, I might feel a little pity for you now. It was all just a game to him. A spectacle. And I think he is just waiting for someone to toss you around like the nothingness that you are.”
The words struck like slaps. And maybe that’s why I did it.
Maybe I just wanted him to shut up. Maybe I wanted to feel something other than the hollow August left behind. Or maybe—I just wanted to hurt something. Someone. Anyone who dared look at me like I was weak.
