Page 67 of Poisoned Vows

Eventually, I’m too tired to keep going. I don’t know how late it is or how long I’ve been walking, but my legs are cramping from the cold. I trip and almost fall, and some part of me just…gives up. I sink down into the snow, crumpling into a heap, and I wonder dazedly how long it takes to freeze to death.

I’m somewhere on the edge of unconsciousness when I feel like I’m being lifted into the air. Hazily, I wonder if this is what dying feels like, if it’s some sort of sensation of being out of my body, but I think I feel strong arms around me, the hardness of a broad chest against my cheek, a warmth sinking into me. It’s not enough to bring me back to consciousness. Still, I’m vaguely aware of it in the last moments before the darkness presses in—and then there’s nothing else.

Nikolai

I’m cursing myself the moment I realize she’s gone from the house.

How could I not have thought she’d find some way to try again?She’d found the nerve to hold me at gunpoint, and after I punished her, it makes absolute sense that she’d think up some sort of plan b. But I hadn’t expected her to go out the fucking window.

And with a rope of bedsheets. She couldn’t have picked a more trite way to go about it if she tried. It would be laughable if it didn’t mean that she’s out in the cold, alone, and probably lost.

I have to go after her, and for the first time, I’m cursing not just myself but the lack of security or anyone else at all out here with me. I don’t have any help, anyone to assist in tracking her down. And if I’m not careful, I’ll get lost out there, too.

There’s a blizzard coming. I knew that—before I went up to check on her and found the window open and the room frigid, the makeshift rope hanging out of it—from the weather report. I’d been in the process of getting the house ready for it, making sure we’d be alright if the power went out, before I’d gone to see if she was asleep.

I’d half-hoped I’d find her on the ground outside. She would have been injured if she’d fallen, but that would have been better than being lost in the woods in the incoming storm. As it is, I have no choice but to hope I can find her, even with her tracks already covered up.

I take a few handfuls of red plastic ties with me, shoving them in my coat pockets after I bundle up and go out to the shed, taking a rifle with me for good measure. I doubt there’ll be any dangerous animals out in this weather, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. I bring a second coat with me, too, to wrap her up in if she went out without a jacket. I don’t think she’s that foolish, but I can’t be sure. She’d been upset when I left her, and I have no idea what other sorts of irrational decisions she might have made.

I should have thought it through. I should have been more careful with her.The regret burns hot enough to keep me warm as I head out into the cold, tying the red strips of plastic around the tree branches as I go to mark my path. The snow is falling thick and heavy, and there’s no chance I’ll be able to simply retrace my steps on the way back. The wind is strong, buffeting against me, and it stings the scratches on my face where Lilliana clawed me.

It’s a long time before I find her, long enough that I’m afraid I might not be able to—or that when I do, it’ll be too late. When I finally do spot the shape in the snow, already half-covered with a thick dusting of it, I quicken my pace, heart in my throat, as I walk up to it.

It’s Lilliana. She’s all but unconscious as I reach for her, carefully picking her up, her head lolling to one side with a low moan as I gather her against my chest. She’s cold to the touch, and I walk as quickly as I can, following the path I left behind back to the house.

By the time I get back to the house, Lilliana is unconscious, her head against my shoulder.This is my fault,is all I can think as I bring her inside, carrying her up to the bedroom and laying her down atop the blankets.

She still has a pulse, but it’s shallow. I cover her up, going to the bathroom to heat a washcloth, bringing it back to gently dab it over her forehead and cheeks. I know I need to warm her up slowly, but other than that, I’m not entirely sure what to do.

She needs a doctor.No sooner do I have that thought than the lights go out.

Fuck. There’s a backup generator for the house, but it doesn’t come on. I’d been in the process of double-checking everything when I realized she was gone, and now I’m torn between going down to try to find out what’s happened to it and staying here with her. I have a growing, irrational fear that if I leave her for even a moment, I’ll come back up to find that she’s dead.

This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.There’s no heating up the washcloth again, so I go to the linen closet in the hall for more quilts to pile on her. The room is dark, so I switch on the flashlight on my phone and go in search of a camp lantern and candles to light it. It keeps me busy briefly, but it’s not long enough before I have nothing to do but sit at Lilliana’s side in the dim light, feeling the crushing pressure of the guilt weighing down on me.

I care about her. It’s a hell of a time to realize it, but over the brief time we’ve spent together, she’s managed to make me give more of a shit about her than I ever have about anyone. If she were awake to hear it, I could list off all the reasons—her nerve even in the face of circumstances that would terrify most people, her toughness, even her wit, despite the fact that it’s often aimed at me. If she could get past her resentment at the circumstances of our marriage, she’d be the kind of woman who would make a better wife for me than I ever could have expected.

I’d meant to fuck her until I got bored and then leave her as a pampered trophy, to trot out when I needed a wife on my arm. But she could be so much more than that. She’s smart and well-educated, clever and not easily frightened, and she could be a real partner. The kind of wife that men like me don’t often have the opportunity to find.

I hadn’t thought I wanted that. I’d never even imagined it. I’d always pictured my life lived on my own terms, not shared equally with someone. But in a very short time, Lilliana has done more than just get under my skin and make me lust for her. She’s made mecare.

If I’m being honest, something about her made me care from the moment I saw her, as ridiculous as it sounds. I’m not the kind of man who ever believed in anything like that. But she struck me from the moment she walked into my father’s study—not just her beauty, but her presence. Her refusal to let my father, or hers, or anyone else break her.

UntilIbroke her. The same woman I’m realizing now that I care more for than I ever have for anyone. And I’m terrified that it might be too late.

I have a feeling she’s likely not to forgive me anyway, no matter what I say or do, if she makes it through this. She didn’t seem inclined to forgive me before I punished her, and I haven’t made things better. But there’s only a chance if she lives.

After a while, it gets cold enough in the room that I get into bed with her, tucking myself under the pile of blankets with her, still fully clothed, in an effort to keep us both warm. And that’s when I realize that while her skin had been cold to the touch before when I’d brought her into the house, she’s burning up now.

Careful to let as little heat out as possible, I get back up, going to run cool water over a washcloth this time. She lets out another of those low moans when I dab it on her forehead and cheeks, and I find myself missing when those moans were for a different reason. Not out of discomfort, but out of pleasure thatIwas giving her. Pleasure she wouldn’t let herself fully enjoy.

Frustration wells up in me as I sit there, cooling her face with the cloth while still trying to keep her warm, watching her shiver under the pile of blankets, occasionally trying to get her to take a sip of water. I’ve never needed to care for anyone. My business has always been the exact opposite of that—of taking people apart, not putting them back together. In this situation, I’m totally at a loss.

Lilliana is the only person I’ve ever wanted to protect, besides Marika. And at this moment, I realize how entirely helpless I am to do that in any situation that doesn’t call for violence.

I had thought I was her best hope. But now I see that she deserved much better than me.

Lilliana

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