Cruel Devotion (Monsters of Darkness #1)

Illuminate

Eloise

Why did the idea of saying yes to this prick make me want to swipe a fork from the nearest table and gouge my eyes out?

Oh, right. I forgot.

It’s because I don’t like him.

I don’t want to get married—not to him. Not to anyone.

The smile stretched across my face twitched the harder I pretended I wasn’t seconds from having a meltdown right here in the middle of my engagement party. Not only did I have to hold back from showing how much I loathed the shitty situation I found myself in, but I had to pretend I liked it. The only thing I could do was slowly bite down on the inside of my cheek.

Pain was my only escape.

My family was well off, but we had nothing on Cohen’s. My fiance was from a conglomerate family with government ties. The kind that needed clearance. He had eyes on him at all times. There was no room for error or scandal. Gossip spread like a brush fire in the summer in a small town like Buckley. With that reminder, I bit down harder and tasted iron; the metallic taste reminded me I had some fraction of control. I could feel my mom’s gaze on the side of my face and forced myself to look as happy about the union as my parents were. She had an eerie ability to sense the direction my thoughts would go. Luckily, my father’s best friend, Jamie, appeared—freeing me of her attention. In the corner of my eyes, my father laughed by her side as he shook her hand.

A slimy hand slithered up my thigh. My spine stiffened as his fingers danced at the hem of my dress. He was playing with fire, but with the public setting we were in, I couldn’t do anything. I fought the urge to cringe as Cohen’s fingers continued up my curves. He stopped me mid-turn and yanked me flush against his front. What looked like a sweet embrace was unwanted. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against my ear, and my skin crawled.

“Everything you’re hiding under that dress… is mine to take.” Cohen’s hot breath on my nape made my stomach churn, and I fought for my life to keep the look of disgust from my face. The smell of alcohol and garlic came off him in waves. When I was sure my mask was firmly in place, I turned my face to the side. Our lips were so close I prayed he didn’t get the wrong idea. His brown eyes lowered and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

Gross.

“Oh, Cohen. Don’t mistake my public obedience as a green light to my body. Until I say yes, I’m not yours. And we both know you couldn’t handle me.” The whispered words looked like we were sharing a secret.

The idiot needed a few seconds to think. Brown eyes stared at me as he blinked a couple times. He was nowhere near as sharp as his father. Eventually, realization dawned, and a greedy grin pulled at the corners of his lips. As much as I wanted to pry his clammy fingers from my waist and tell him where to go, I had no choice but to play along. My mother was hell to deal with, and I would rather follow the rules and fake it than face her fury.

The Winslow house had two rules, just two: don’t sleep around, and never embarrass the family name. My mother was a trust fund baby who never had to work a day in her life. She’d rather inhale a bottle of pills than face shame and scandal. Love was not something I grew up with, and kindness was equivalent to weakness. She thrived off the misfortune of those she classified as less than and didn’t care if she had to kick people on the street when buying land for her vision: a shopping outlet.

My parents had planned my marriage to Cohen and didn’t think I deserved to know until the week of the engagement party. I didn’t know arranged marriages were still a thing in modern day America.

Lucky me.

Rumors said his family worked with the devil. Despite the religious roots, Buckley had always been a superstitious town nestled along the Dark Forest in the Pacific Northwest. There was a rumor of a barrier deep in the woods that kept us out. My parents bought into the supposed “monsters” Cohen’s family dealt with. They saw it as an opportunity to tap into untouched wealth. If there was a paranormal world, they were going to be one of the first families to step foot into it. They could keep feeding me the bullshit about how this marriage would elevate my social status and ensure my future family was well taken care of, but I knew better. They were greedy. Putting up a fight was a waste of time. One meeting turned into another, until I was pressured into accepting his proposal.

“Oh, I’m not mistaken, sweetheart. You’re already mine, whether you admit it or not. Enjoy that attitude while you can because once we’re married, I’ll enjoy stomping it out,” Cohen promised. His grip on my hip turned punishing. The expression on my face remained one of contentment.

“Let me go, or I’ll embarrass us both. I’ll scream so loud the town will be buzzing with rumors before the sun sets.” My smile was wide as my mom’s eyes flashed. She took in the tension that rolled off me despite the pearly whites. It didn’t matter how good I’d been at wearing my mask; she could see through the little cracks.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he grunted. He was rattled—caught between asserting his dominance and the threat of scandal, unsure whether or not to call my bluff. I looked over my shoulder, meeting his shit-colored eyes.

“Try me,” I taunted, a tremor working its way down my arm.

My blade called me.

“Ellie? Did I miss something?” My mother hadn’t called me by my childhood nickname in years. The concern in her voice drew my father’s attention. This wasn’t because she was scared; she was testing me, reminding me to keep him pleased. This was a dance, and it was Cohen’s turn to lead. His grip on my waist loosened.

“Not at all, Dorothy. Ellie’s just a little impatient. She can’t wait until our special day.” He flashed her his signature asshole smile. I balled my hand into a fist as my mom grinned, clearly pleased with his response. Her eyes narrowed a fraction on me and the words she’d ingrained in my mind since I was a little girl rang in my ears.

“Mind your manners and fix your mask.”

My back instantly straightened. The sound of quick footsteps rushed toward me, and I wheezed as a small body crashed into mine. Looking down, big brown eyes stared up at me. My mask slipped, and I smiled at the one little light I held close. Wrapping my arms around my baby brother, he squeezed me tight. All it took was one look at him to make me forget the blade waiting for me at home. My little brother was my mini-me, but where my hair was light brown, his was dark. With a cute button nose and freckles splashed across his face, he had me wrapped around his little finger.

“Hey, bud.” I kissed the top of his head.

“Hi, sissy,” he whispered.

“Archie!” my mom chastised. His eyes drooped sadly and his shoulders followed before he let me go. I squeezed his arm and his eyes brightened slightly. I winked at him and a crooked smile pulled at one side of his lips as he tried to work his mask back into place. Turning from me, he held his head high as he headed toward his seat without a glance her way. He was the one reason I put up with my family. I don’t know how many times I’d thought of running away. With him around, I wasn’t going anywhere.

Cohen grabbed my arm, reminding me he was still there. I’ve only known him for a couple months, and already hated everything about him. He was a self-absorbed asshole who was so used to having everything he wanted. Women flocked to him thanks to his bottomless wallet. He expected the same from me, and when I didn’t fall to my knees, he thought I was playing hard to get.

The clock was ticking. In less than a week, I would be his wife. I spent the rest of the evening ignoring his existence and pretending to be intrigued while my parents talked business. It wasn’t until they started talking about grandchildren and securing the future of our line as if we were royalty that I zoned them out. When all was said and done, my face hurt from smiling.

I just want to go home.

The itch to wrap my fingers around that little blade and cut into my inner thigh was strong. I bit my lip as we walked, ready to feel the release only cutting gave me. Cohen walked us out and I quickly pushed Archie into the car my parents had sent for him. He pouted and I waved until he was out of sight. Cohen stepped into my space, but I held my ground as I glared at him.

Ignoring what I’d said about my body not being his, he leaned in and puckered his lips. Ugh. I dodged, and he kissed my cheek instead. His arms slithered around me, and I was pulled in close. His scent reached my nose as a hard little bulge dug into my pelvic bone. We both groaned, him with desire and me with disgust. Not only would I be stuck with him, but I’d be severely disappointed every night underneath him and the little finger between his legs.

Fingers to his chest, I pushed him away, but he refused to let me go. His hands traveled over my curves. Instead of letting the fear that coursed through my body affect me, I slid my hands down his body. As his grip slowly loosened, I trailed lower. As much as it sickened me, I grabbed him with my fingers. His breathing quickened as he misinterpreted the situation. Leaning forward, he took my actions as an invitation. He pressed a slobbery kiss to my cheek. I squeezed with all my strength, and he grunted in pain as slobber oozed down the side of my face.

Gross.

“I don’t know what part of today made you think I was interested, but the next time you try to force yourself on me, I promise to remove this.” He slumped against me as I leaned back.

“Do you hear me?” He opened his mouth, but only a squeak came out.

“I’ll wait.” Only when he nodded did I release him. He stumbled back, adjusting himself as he glared. Using his hands to slick his hair back, he stepped toward me. Then he grabbed my arm and threw me up against his car. My parents hadn’t arranged one for me because they wanted him to take me home. With his chest to my front, he used an arm to steady himself.

“Let’s not forget I know your little secret.” His hand gripped my thigh, fingers digging into my wound. My body sagged at the pain and I closed my eyes to the onslaught of memories of that night. When he walked in on me and caught me with my dress above my waist and my legs spread.

“Get off,” I hissed. It was all I could say. There was no denying what we both knew.

“That’s what I was trying to do.”

“You just don’t fucking get it,” I hissed.

“No, you don’t get it, sweetheart. If you play nice, I won’t have to tell mommy and daddy about how twisted you really are,” he threatened.

“Cohen,” I warned. His nose pressed into my hair as he inhaled. My stomach dropped.

“Shut up. When you go home and reach for that blade, you’ll think of me when you try to get off on your pain.”

Fuck you, asshole.

He trailed kisses up the side of my face and I closed my eyes to block him out.

“See? I knew you could be a good girl.”

Once he released me, I pried the door open and threw myself in. He climbed in after me and closed it. Signaling his driver, we peeled out of the parking lot. I moved to the other end of the seat and crossed my arms.

“You make this harder than it needs to be, Ellie. If you would just do what you’re supposed to—”

“Fuck off, Cohen. I’m only here because I have to be. I don’t want to talk to you and I sure as hell don’t want to look at you.” I hated that nickname. Turning toward the window, I ignored him for the rest of the ride. He didn’t say a word and I thanked whatever deity was out there.

I let out a little sigh of relief as the cabin came into view. The 3.5 million dollar property was a small two-story cabin with a wrap around deck that sat on 10 acres. By far the humblest home we owned. When the car finally rolled to a stop, I practically flew out and slammed the door. The window rolled down and I refused to look at him.

“You can only run for a week. Try not to bleed to death until then.” I flinched at the reference before flipping him off and turning my back on him. His laughter was only cut off when I got inside.

I don’t want to marry him.

As I went down the hallway, the living room lit up. My mom sat by the fire under a massive fur blanket. My father was thankfully nowhere to be seen. Every house we owned had a special room for his mistress. He was probably upstairs with her right now. The floor creaked and I froze as my mother’s bloodshot eyes locked on me. She brightened up when she realized it was me. Once upon a time, I felt bad for her, but not anymore. She could leave, support herself, and start fresh. The three of us could live a life without my father, but that never happened. She chose this life. Content staying with him to avoid the stain a divorce would have on her reputation. It blew my mind how she could want to push me toward a man I didn’t love or chose.

Why would she want me to have the same life she did?

“Ellie?” she asked hopefully.

Ignoring her, I continued down the hall. The sound of her footsteps reached my ears as she followed. When they stopped, I turned down mine and Archie’s hall. I passed my door and stopped at his. His door was cracked open a little. Sneaking a peek, his blue bird nightlight illuminated the room. He’s afraid of the monsters that hide in the dark, but as long as that thing’s shining, he’ll sleep. Hyperfocusing on his chest, I waited until it rose and fell before slowly closing the door.

Somehow, I managed to make my way to my room without a single creak. Once inside, I closed my eyes and slumped against the door. Gasping for breath as the world finally caved in. My hand darted out on its own accord to where I knew it hid: at the top of my dresser beneath the framed picture of Archie. As soon as the cool blade made contact with the pads of my fingers, I pulled it toward the edge and snatched it up. Placing it between my lips, I slammed my head back against the door, not bothering with the lights as I rolled my dress up. I chased a release only the blade could give me.

Widening my legs, I pried the blade from my lips and dropped it to the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh. Still tender and raw from Cohen’s fingers and the last time I’d done this. My lips were suddenly dry. I knew I should pick a new spot, a fresh one, but I couldn’t. There was something about the high I got from dragging the blade against freshly raised skin. I didn’t have to look, didn’t need to confirm where it was slicing.

With a flick of my wrist, a shaky breath rattled in my chest. My shoulders shook as puffed skin parted like an ‘x’. I couldn’t feel it pebble, but my body relaxed when the warm liquid rolled down my thigh. And just like that, all of my problems disappear.

I didn’t deny myself another slice. Standing there, I knew I’d cut too deep when I grew lightheaded. But I was okay now. Swiping the blade on my skin, I returned it to its hiding spot. As much as I wanted to take a hot bath and read a few more chapters of my current read, I was exhausted. Slipping out of my dress, I stepped into white satin shorts and pulled on the matching cami top. When I finally made it to my bed, I lifted the blanket and crawled beneath it. Cohen was wrong; I didn’t think about him. My eyes fluttered closed, and it wasn’t long before I dozed off.

I don’t know how long I’d slept before I teetered between sleep and consciousness. I was no stranger to nightmares, but tonight, something was different. Hands roamed unapologetic in their search. Something wet bumped my foot and a smooth tongue dragged up my leg. The hairs on the back of my neck stood and goosebumps broke out of my flesh. A heavy gaze bore into me, and the need to run coursed through my veins. I don’t know how long I fought with my paralysis demon. A heaviness pressed down on me, suffocating, as I struggled to break through the surface. When I broke free from his spell, my eyes snapped open, only to be met with darkness.

“Please!” I rasped. Sitting up, I slapped at my thighs. My body finally listening to my brain. Unable to shake the feeling that something just wasn’t right, I searched the shadows. The ragged sound of breathing filled the room, and I froze. A pair of glowing eyes watched me from the foot of my bed. Whimpering, I wrapped my arms around my legs.

I have to be dreaming.

This felt too real.

It was still there.

Shaking my head, I admitted the truth out loud.

“This isn’t a dream.”