Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Maeve
T his room is a testament to the power Michael wields with my father.
Rich drapes, expensive sheets and a crackling fireplace all show off his status within the clan. Michael likes expensive things and enjoys having people think he’s important. He’s embraced his role and willingly took me as a future bride because of what it will give him.
He stole my innocence and gave me back only darkness.
I’m not letting him get away with it.
Sitting on the bed, he lets the towel part. I don’t take the bait. His dick isn’t that impressive.
For years, I’ve endured. I was made to take the punishments and smile with gratitude.
Never again.
“You came to me on your own. I didn’t even have to call a guard this time. You’re learning.” He smiles wide. He’s praising me like a pet who learned a new command.
There aren’t any guards left at the house. They’re spread thin covering the family as they make one last holiday romp through downtown Boston while I stay here. With Michael.
I can’t help it. I smile back.
“I thought it was time to accept my fate,” I say, words dry. A fate I would make my own.
“You’re almost twenty-one.” He nods, leaning back. His belly is so big, walking has got to be difficult for him. “I’ll admit, I do miss that young body of yours, but this version certainly comes with perks.”
Bile rises hard and fast up my throat. I have to breathe through my nose to settle it back down.
“Perks?” I move closer, letting my hips sway. This isn’t easy for me. I don’t do seduction well.I’m too tough, too brash.
“That ass of yours.” His beady eyes lower. “Much better now. And those tits? Fuck.” He bites his lower lip, and it takes everything in me not to visibly react.
“Lay back,” I purr. It’s now or never. He does so without question.
I follow, hiking my skirt high on my hips for better leverage. My fingers graze the pearl inlaid handle against my thigh like a dinghy in the storm. The heaviness of it eases my heart at being so close to a monster.
“Do you know what I think about when I’m all alone?”
Michael shakes his head, eyes glued to my form. This is his fantasy come to life. “No, what?” His voice has lowered, as if enjoying my little act. As if I’ve actually agreed to this punishment.
I smirk.
“How good I’ll look covered in your blood.”
There is a pregnant pause, the words ringing out loudly around us. Swiftly, as if I had rehearsed it, I grab the knife from my skirt and arch it over my head.
I plunge. One, two, three strikes before I lose count. I don’t bother to remember them, just feel the movement of my arm, my body swaying with each stabbing like a memorized choreography.
Dozens and dozens of marks litter his body, ruby red staining the sheets under him. I watch the trails of blood splatter against the walls, hitting the ceiling with a frenzy I didn’t know I possessed. But it was there, under the surface, buried along with my rage as I finally surrendered to it.
I always dreamed of the sounds he’d make as I cut him into tiny pieces. It’s even better in real life. Sweet. Loud. Agonizing.
Pulling back slightly, I lick the knife, tasting the copper tang of his blood. It’s sweet. It tastes like melting cotton candy on a hot summer’s day. Like promises and a bright future where I lead.
“Your blood tastes almost as good as your death, Michael.” I smirk, lips bloody.
He gurgles something horrible and my smile grows feral.
“You’ll never touch me again. You’ll never touch anyone again.” I strike again, slicing into his throat. It’s a hard hit, lodging on bone. “You thought you could take my power, my clan? This is my birthright and I will lead. Without you .”
A death hiss releases from his mouth, his body deflating, cold eyes rolling up to the ceiling. My words were the last things he heard. The minute his soul leaves the room, it grows brighter, my chest lighter.
It’s done. He’s gone.
A sob catches in my chest. Relief so heavy surrounds my heart and my eyes well.
“Maeve.”
Glancing to the bedroom door, I see Killian gripping the sides of the threshold as if to physically restrain himself.
Shit.