Chapter 8 #2
What he had not anticipated, however, was just how much spark Ariadne had gained since the beginning of the Season.
When they had first begun their courting at the Vertium ball, she had been weak and demure.
At the time, he had been fine with it. After all, she had been more than acquiescing to his every command.
Such a life, with an obedient little wife, would have been more than sufficient.
Yet that half-breed bastard had lit that light inside her again, and Loren wanted nothing more than to stifle it. The only light she should shine should be for him. Even better, it should be because of him.
Therefore, Ariadne’s little rebellion at his wedding had not truly surprised him.
Something in the back of his mind had told him this would happen.
That the horned freak had enchanted her, after all, and it would be Loren’s responsibility to permanently rid her of that crass obsession. Such a task was an honor.
Her ferocity only enlivened him more. As the hot rage built in his gut, boiling into his veins, Loren felt more focused than he ever had in his life.
Battles and war had never quite thrilled him as much as this particular chase.
Those had high stakes where lives and Valenul’s sacred ground could be lost. This had only one outcome: his wife’s indisputable understanding that he was in charge.
So when her fists connected with him in those well-timed punches, Loren knew precisely what he had to do.
No, he would not kill his wife. Not on their wedding day.
The Lords would look unfavorably upon such violence and revolt.
But vampires healed quickly, and Ariadne needed to be taught a severe lesson.
Loren stalked her across the library to where she turned and ran down the hall. Nikolai knew him all too well—this was his moment, and any interference would displease him.
Heart racing, he gave chase. Adrenaline leaked through his system, sharpening his mind to what he was to do next: catch his prey and ensure it submitted to him in every way she was meant to as his wife.
Back down the hall they went, her long legs eating up the distance with practiced ease.
Yet Loren had to wonder just how fast she would be had she not been so encumbered by the skirts of her wedding dress.
The torn hem in the back flickered in and out of sight as she ran without looking back.
There would be no need to check if he followed. She no doubt heard him in pursuit.
Past the open doors to Revelie’s rooms, then Camilla’s. Strange that neither would be chosen as a safe-haven, given she likely did not know they had no locks on the inside. As if he could trust those two meddlesome women not to lock themselves away.
What confused Loren most, though, was when Ariadne passed by the staircases that led to the foyer.
Running down steps provided its own risks and rewards, yet the front doors should have been her first choice to escape into the night.
Alas, she continued into the other wing of the castle—the one he had not spent as much time modifying with the assistance of his mage building crew.
These would be the rooms he did not want her disappearing into, for they maintained the most effective way to keep him out. As such, Loren stretched his legs farther to close the distance between them. He needed to finish this. Now.
Then Ariadne finally looked back. His heart leapt at the hate and fear mixed in her expression.
That had been all he needed to make up the few steps that kept them steadily apart.
Her distraction was his victory, for Ariadne stumbled over her feet just enough for Loren to reach out a hand and dig his fingers into her hair.
Ariadne’s scream sent a vicious burst of excitement through him.
She careened to a stop, her head jerking back from the force of his grip.
Again, she stumbled, this time so that her body slammed into his.
Shaking, no doubt from her own rush of having been chased and caught, she twisted in his hands to no avail.
“Naughty, naughty, my pet,” he hissed in her ear and wrapped an arm around her waist, hauling her flush against him. “Now be a good little wife and tell me what you were doing reading such filth in that library.”
Rather than respond, Ariadne writhed. At first, Loren chuckled, each movement only proving to excite him more, before she slammed her elbow into his side. The impact thrust a grunt from his lungs and had him holding her even tighter.
“Two can play at that game,” he said and pulled his fingers free of her hair to open the door closest to him. The drawing room spread out around them as Loren dragged her inside. “Want to see?”
Again, she twisted in his hold, and this time, she threw her head back.
The crown of her skull connected with his nose.
Pain crashed through his face, and the hot metallic taste of blood told him just how successful she had been with the strike.
A broken nose would be no good for their wedding portrait.
“You bitch.” Loren yanked her away and returned the favor from the library by cracking his ringed fist into her jaw hard enough to throw her to the floor. Only when she landed in a heap did he slam his boot into her side.
Wheezing, Ariadne curled in on where he struck, a bruise blossoming across her face.
Between them both, he would need to reschedule the artist to come back for their painting.
They were quite the pair, and something told him this would not be the last time they fought quite so violently—not so long as her weak little mind continued to be controlled by that bastard fae.
Gods, he hoped it was not even after he finally put a blade through that monster. This was thrilling. And to think they could have been doing this for the last several months. They had years now to make up for lost time.
Loren crouched beside Ariadne and grabbed her by the face, forcing her to look up at him.
“What do I need to do to make this lesson really stick?” Her eyes widened at his choice of words, and she tried to pull away, but he only held on tighter.
“Perhaps those horned freaks were onto something with how best to tame you.”
With that, he released her and took hold of the hem of her skirt, yanking it high to expose the full length of her legs. In response, Ariadne kicked away with a mortified half-shriek. She pushed back to escape his reach, only for him to grab her wrist and pin it to the floor.
“Perhaps this will make you talk,” Loren snarled, dragging her body back towards him.
“Loren, please—”
His heart skipped a beat at the sound of her pleading, but he did not care to listen to her words. Even as she begged him to stop. Gods, he loved it—that pathetic tone. It only had his erection growing with greater anticipation.
Using one hand, Loren yanked the ties free of her dress. It loosened, the front opening and from it spilling contents that he had not expected—papers.
“What is this, my pet?” He plucked the folded pages from between her breasts and unfolded them.
“Loren, please!” Ariadne made to grab them away, true terror in her eyes, but he batted her hand away. “Do not—please!”
White hot anger flashed through him again. Even now, in his hold, she fought him. It was at once infuriating and exhilarating. Still, he lifted the pages before her face and slowly tore them into pieces as she screamed for him to stop.
Yet in the instant he relieved the pressure from her, Ariadne returned to the untempered opponent he had previously secured. She pushed up from the floor as though to run away again, her dress looser and more cumbersome than before just to have Loren snatch her wrist again and pull her back to him.
“We are not done here, wife.”
Ariadne twisted her arm with deft practice.
With someone less trained than Loren, such a maneuver might free her.
What she did not expect, however, was him grabbing her at the elbow with his free hand and yanking her to the floor again.
She squealed in shock as her knees hit the ground before he took hold of her ankle to drag her to him.
“Loren, stop!” Ariadne cried and tried to kick him with her free foot.
He laughed, forcing her thighs to spread so he could kneel between them. “Stop? But this is what a husband and wife do, my pet.”
Tears streaked down Ariadne’s face as, again and again, she pushed away only to be jerked back into place. “No, no! Stop it!”
Again, Loren yanked her skirts up before draping his body over her to pin her in place with his weight. “But you look too beautiful for me to ignore, wife.”
At that, Ariadne stilled. She pushed at his shoulder weakly with one hand, the other covering her face as she heaved huge, silent sobs that shuddered her entire body. Damn, those tears were just perfect, each one making her cheeks glisten a little more.
“Good girl,” he whispered as he kissed her damp temple and reached his free hand down to unfasten the button of his trousers.
Then out of nowhere, everything went black.