Chapter Fourteen
A s I waited at the altar for my bride, I tried my best to hide my disgust and had been doing a very good job of it until I looked over at my grandfather.
Between him, Ekaterina, and I, there was no way to tell who was more miserable about this ceremony, which was comical at best, as my Daideó was the one to have put this all in motion.
I took a final glance at him as he sulked in his seat beside my cousin, who still looked intoxicated from the night before.
He’d been forced to throw me a bachelor party, and every time the words ‘marriage’ or ‘bride’ were tossed around, he’d slam back a shot.
Something was up with him and the idea of marriage.
It was repugnant to me, but it extended to something far worse for him.
He wasn’t the one signing his life away for a wife and kid, so he had no reason to be so miserable.
I had to pretend to be anything but that myself, and as Nolan and Ekaterina appeared in the doorway of the castle, everyone turned toward them, and the music started.
I wiped away any signs of displeasure and plastered on a smile.
If nothing else, this marriage would be one destined to be unhappily ever after.
Not just for me, but for my bride as well.
Ekaterina proceeded down the carpeted walkway toward me, and as she got closer, I noticed that everything was done according to the Irish traditions—from the dress color to the wildflowers prominently displayed in her bouquet.
She also wore a chain around her neck with a small horseshoe, which was supposed to symbolize good luck.
She would need it, because I still could barely look at her without wanting to throttle her.
She continued to walk on Nolan’s arm, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this would’ve been Princeton standing where I now was, and if this would have been his wedding to a woman of his choosing.
Hopefully, a woman he didn’t get off to when fantasizing about her demise.
Would he have been standing here beaming at his bride-to-be, with my grandfather smiling proudly at him as he prepared to expand the Brannington Empire?
We would never know, and it was all because of her.
Because of Ekaterina.
After making her way to the end of the aisle, she now stood in front of me. She noticed my face, then smiled. Only I could see the sarcasm behind it. “You look more miserable than me,” she mouthed.
I grinned ferally at her. “Wait until tonight,” I mouthed back.
“Is this ribbon sufficient?” Nolan asked softly, breaking up the conversation between Ekaterina and me.
“Yes,” I said to him, and as I took my bride’s hands, I held them in mine.
Nolan took a few minutes to wrap the ribbon around our joined hands, then around our wrists as well.
When finished, he stepped back, and I nodded at him in appreciation.
The handfasting was a family tradition stretching back generations, and since that was what my Daideó wanted to preserve, their traditions would be honored as well.
The ceremony then began, and after a few words from the priest, it came time for the vows. If I could manage to get them out without choking, laughing, or both, then I would consider it a success.
“I, Kingston Brannington, take you, Ekaterina Kotov, as my wife, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death us do part,” I said while briefly fantasizing about the moment the latter happened. The sooner the better, as far as I was concerned.
“I, Ekaterina Kotov, take you, Kingston Brannington, as my husband, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death us do part,” she repeated exactly as we had rehearsed yesterday.
“What God joins together, man must not separate. May the Lord confirm the consent that you have given and enrich you with his blessings,” the priest then said. “Now, we will proceed to the exchange of rings.”
I jerked my wrist hard enough to dispel the ribbon wrapped around it, then slipped her hands from it. The silk tie fell to the ground, and I discreetly moved it away with the swipe of my foot.
Nolan appeared at my side with the rings, handing one to Ekaterina and the other to me.
I took my bride’s hand, and as I began to slide the ring on her finger, I felt something damp and looked at her face where a single, solitary tear had fallen.
I ignored it, then slid it the rest of the way up her finger.
She quickly slid mine on, and from there, we turned back to the priest, who was smiling proudly.
If he only knew the union he was about to bless was nothing but a sham and a farce.
No one ever would. We were in this unholy union together now, and as we had promised under a God that may or may not exist, especially for those in our world, it was until death do us part.
For my lovely bride, her end would come sooner than mine.
That was another vow I was happy to make.
“Lord, bless Kingston and Ekaterina and consecrate their married life. May these rings be a symbol of their faith in each other and a reminder to them of their love. Through Christ our Lord.”
Although we were from different backgrounds, our families all prayed and worshipped to the same God, or at least some of us did.
It made the next part easier to do, especially since there were no Russian traditions taking place on this day for her.
This speech was also one we had both rehearsed and decided to say simultaneously.
“We thank you, Lord, and praise you for bringing us to this happy day. You’ve given us to each other.
Now, together, we give ourselves to you.
We ask you to make us one in our love. Keep us one in your peace.
Protect our marriage. Bless our home. Make us gentle.
Keep us faithful. And when life is over, to unite us again where parting is no more in the kingdom of your love.
There, we’ll praise you in the happiness and peace of our eternal home. Amen.”
“Amen,” she said softly as hers came out of time with mine.
We hadn’t done half bad, considering we both looked as if we would rather swallow glass than recite those prayers in relation to one another.
Had I ever loved another woman? No, and I doubted she had ever loved another man.
I loved power, control, and money, and she obviously loved freedom of choice to have gone through this with me.
“And with the power vested in me, I now pronounce Kingston and Ekaterina, husband and wife,” the priest proudly proclaimed. “And you may now kiss your bride.”
Finally, one of the only parts of this godforsaken thing I was looking forward to.
She leaned in, intending to allow me to give her a soft peck, but instead I weaved my hand around the back of her neck and drew her close.
Her eyes raised to mine, and in the moment they met, my lips curled into a smile, and I lowered my head.
My lips came down hard on hers, which seemed to catch her by surprise. Had I not been holding her so tightly, she might’ve even fallen backward. Ekaterina was resistant to the kiss at first, but once my tongue coaxed her lips apart, I slipped my tongue inside, eliciting a small moan from her.
This! It is all we have, and all we will ever have.
Fucking her had never been bad; it was knowing she would find pleasure, which always left a bitter taste in my mouth.
If she had been anyone else, I would have been obsessed with her when it came to sex.
Knowing who she was, though, felt like stabbing my brother in the back each time.
I was supposed to be avenging his death so he could finally rest in peace, not getting off in that woman as we found mutual satisfaction.
Small hands pushed at my chest, and I realized I had gotten carried away.
When I broke off the kiss, the crowd cheered and erupted in applause for us.
If they only knew, they would be shaking their heads instead.
My grandfather, I suspected, knew how much I hated this woman, but this was punishment for him forcing me to marry someone.
I took Ekaterina’s hand and we hurried back toward the castle.
After she changed into another dress, we joined the others in the main ballroom of this venue, where several singers were singing Irish folklore while bagpipers played their instruments on the side.
This was the typical Irish wedding, and one no one outside of the newlyweds would know was a fake.
We had even eaten some of the Irish cake, which she hated.
I wasn’t a fan of it myself, but keeping with custom, we still each ate a slice of the fruitcake soaked in whiskey and filled with raisins, cherries, almonds, and other spices.
My best man, Nolan, had also given a toast to us with honey wine, and several hours later, I was finally glad to have this day over and done with.
Now, it was night, and as was also custom in any wedding, it was time to consummate our marriage.
This part of this event would be much easier to get through, especially seeing as Ekaterina had worn the tightest dress that just barely covered her delectable ass as she danced in my arms at the reception.
I hadn’t been able to resist running my hands down her body and over her curves, all while whispering all the things I intended to do to her tonight.
It had kept my dick hard, and after she’d tossed the bouquet to some dimwitted female, I stole her away from the festivities, which were still in full swing, and led her upstairs to the bedroom we’d share tonight.
Last night, I had slept in it alone, but tonight, I would fuck the hell out of her in it and listen to the sounds of her cries as they echoed off the ancient stone walls.