A Vow Of Hate

by James, Lylah

  He knew that and he used it to his advantage.

  I gritted my teeth. “Well, that’s the point of these dinners. To make it possible.”

  “You’re gluttonous for pain, wife.” His deep voice wrapped around me and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Goose flesh peppered my bare arms. “The walls that hold you prisoner is of your own doing and your destructive need to make yourself miserable. Self-loathing, Julianna. You stink of it; it bleeds through your actions and seeps through your words. The high society will eat you alive and spit out your crushed bones.”

  “Is that a warning?” I breathed, my hands shaking as I gripped my knife and my fork tighter.

  “No, it’s simply a threat, Beasty.”

  I knew that the chains around my ankles and my enduring penitence was of my own doing – Killian was right, but I never expected him to so easily read me like an open book.

  He saw through my thorned cage and tore down my walls with a single observation. Killian left me defenseless, before taking his dagger and driving it into my heart – leaving me bleeding with his careless words and heartless epiphany.

  Selene had been right.

  He will dig under your skin, find all your flaws and shred you to pieces until your heart is bleeding at his feet.

  I licked my lips and took a deep breath. “Your father has arranged for the masquerade ball, exactly a month from now. It’s our wedding reception and this time, you can’t walk away from me. Not when we have to prove to the high society and our friend circles that we are the perfect married couple. It’s a pretty façade, of course, but whether it’s a lie or not, we have to convince them that we’re happily married.” I gestured between us with my fork. “This is practice, Killian.”

  “We have to be civil with each other,” he mused, a wicked grin on his lips.

  “Civil and in love,” I amended.

  He cut through his chicken and brought his fork to his lips. “There’s no love where there is hate,” he said, before popping the small piece of chicken into his mouth.

  “There’s a fine line between love and hate, Killian.”

  “Not for us.”

  “Not for us,” I agreed. For the vows I took were sacred while his were tarnished with vengeance. Our love story was doomed from the beginning.

  The rest of the dinner was silent, with only the sound of our cutlery against our plates echoed within the walls.

  Once our plates were cleared, Killian pushed his chair back and he stood up, throwing his napkin on the table. “Are we done here?”

  My stomach hollowed and I nodded. He walked away without another word, quickly disappearing around the pillars. Once he was done, I grabbed for my black veil, my fingers shaky as I pinned it in place, once again.

  I didn’t know what exactly I expected to come from these dinners, the short time we were to spend together. Maybe I wanted a glimpse of the real Killian behind that cold, hateful exterior.

  Or maybe I wanted him to see the real Julianna.

  I wanted Killian to move on – to fall in love again, with a woman who deserved him more than I did. But here I was, making stupid decisions that were only bringing us closer than putting distance between us.

  Though, the closer we got…

  The harder it became to protect my lies and my secrets.

  It was a dangerous game I was playing and if I wasn’t careful, Killian might just end up hating me even more.

  For the truth was worse than my secrets – and our reality.

  Killian

  A week later

  I downed the whiskey, feeling it burn my throat, but fuck, that was exactly what I needed. I dragged the comforter over my lap and leaned against the headboard. I must have slept for only two hours.

  It had been a week since I came back to the Island, a week since I was living in the same goddamn place as Julianna, a week since I was forced to sit and have dinner with her.

  Her presence taunted me.

  I knew Julianna was trapped within her own heartbreak. I saw the torment in her eyes; eyes that looked so much like Gracelynn’s.

  Her grey eyes, like the smoke after the fire, after the burn... like the fucking ashes we were laying in. They got darker and greyer when she was angry. Those unique green speckles, sometimes they hid behind the grey, sometimes they were so vivid in her eyes.

  Her fucking eyes remind me of... what I lost.

  It was torture, watching the woman who killed my heart, walk around the halls of this castle, alive and breathing. Julianna carried Grace’s ghost with her, mocking me.

  The rage festered, growing darker… deadlier.

  Her soul was so well entangled with mine, I could feel her torment and I breathed it. Her pain fed the monster lurking beneath my skin.

  My phone rang, snapping me out of my thought, and after checking the caller ID, I picked up the call. “Dad,” I greeted.

  “You really thought you could fool me, Killian,” he said in greetings, his voice slow and breathy. Sick.

  My brows pulled up in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “I have eyes everywhere, son.”

  Fuck.

  I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’ve done what you asked me to do. She compromised with me and I allowed her. I’m being a gentleman, like you asked.”

  Dad clucked his tongue at me, in a dismissive manner. “Do you take me for a fool, Killian?” he asked, repeating his earlier words.

  “No.”

  I heard a rustle in the background and I imagined he was still in bed. It was still early in the morning, after all. “Maybe in your dictionary, being a gentleman means humiliating your wife every chance you get.”

  My eyes widened and my stomach heaved. Double fuck. How did he come to know about this?

  “What? How–”

  He cut me off. “Three weeks left until the masquerade ball. Don’t you dare mess this up, Killian. You have three weeks to stop acting like a grumpy child and more like the man I expect you to be. I raised you better than that.”

  I rubbed my temple, where a headache was starting to form. “Yes, I understand.”

  He hung up and I threw my phone on the bed, fighting back the urge to break something.

  My father was having me watched. Every single moment of my day was being reported back to him.

  Goddamn it!

  So, it was either Emily or Stephen.

  Or could it be Gideon?

  Four hours later, I found Julianna walking in the garden, taking her sweet time to check on the flowers that have recently bloomed. Today, she was wearing an emerald blouse, tucked into her pillowy white, ankle-length skirt. And of course, her black lace veil covered her face.

  While Gracelynn’s hair was a platinum blonde, almost white in the sunlight, Julianna’s was black and shining. Gracelynn used to walk with an elegance, a sway in her hips, but Julianna walked with a limp. Her sister was modest and never argumentative, but my wife fought back, giving me a piece of her mind with everything I threw at her.

  But it was all a sham.

  Her strength was as fake as her, because I got a glimpse of the woman Julianna was hiding behind her perfect ruse.

  Too bad for her, she didn’t realize that she was stuck here, on this island, and this was my kingdom but she wasn’t the queen.

  Julianna was a martyr.

  And she was trapped in this golden cage I had built around her.

  I had her soul in my bare hands and Beasty didn’t even know it.

  “Roses are beautiful, but their thorns can make you bleed,” I called out, approaching her from behind. “But you’d know that better than anyone, right?”

  She straightened, giving the flowers one last look before turning to me. “You won’t bleed if you don’t mess with them. That’s why you don’t pluck roses. Leave them be and they’ll stay beautiful, without causing any lasting harm.”

  I clapped my hands. “What a beautiful epiphany, wife.”

 
“What are you doing here, Killian?” she sighed. “It’s too early for this.”

  I agreed, but to please my father – a dying’s man last wish was for him to see his son courting his wife – I had to play along.

  I presented her with my elbow, begrudgingly. “Take a walk with me.”

  Julianna squinted at me in suspicion. “Why?”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “No,” she shot back.

  “That’s a wise and smart decision, Beasty.”

  She rolled her eyes. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get me alone so you could slit my throat and dump me somewhere on the island.”

  “Now, that would be too easy,” I drawled.

  “You’re an asshole,” she hissed, before wrapping her fingers around my elbow.

  “We’ve established that.”

  We started walking, Julianna matching my long steps without any complaint. When I noticed that her limp was more pronounced, I slowed down. “What are you trying to do?” she asked, giving me a side-eye. Confusion masked her voice, but it was her curiosity that had her asking the question.

  “Civil and in love, remember?”

  She inhaled sharply. “There’s no one here though.”

  Or so she thought, my naïve wife.

  I paused in front of a bush of roses, also bringing Julianna to a stop. One specific bloomed rose caught my attention. It was lonely amongst the other budded ones that were still waiting to blossom. It was the reddest of the roses I had seen so far, its big petals fluttering against the breeze.

  It was pretty, so I plucked it.

  “Wait, don’t–”

  Beasty was too late. I held the plucked rose by its stem, gesturing for Julianna to take it. “For you.”

  This close, I could see the way her lips thinned in displeasure behind her thin, laced veil. When she didn’t take it right away, I grasped her hand in mine, pushing the rose into hers, forcing Julianna to accept the gift.

  Our eyes silently locked, speaking in languages we didn’t understand. My lips twitched, she blinked – and I put the slightest pressure on my hold, pressing her fingers into the thorns.

  “Ouch,” she gasped, releasing the rose and trying to snatch her hand away.

  Blood seeped through where the thorn had pricked her index finger.

  “Oops, I made you bleed.” I caught her hand in mine and brought it to my mouth. “Some people are roses, Beasty. Some people are thorns. Here’s the thing, you can’t turn a thorn into a rose petal. A thorn is a thorn, beautiful but unpleasant and painful at the same time. They mingle with the roses, but never let the thorns get to you. For once you’re pricked, you bleed.”

  “They coexist, together,” she breathed. “What’s a rose without thorns? A wilted rose.”

  My lips wrapped around her bleeding finger, sucking on the blood. Her grey eyes flared and Julianna didn’t make a sound. Her chest rose up then down, with the shuddering breath she took. I tasted her blood on my tongue, a subtle metallic flavor. My tongue circled the tip of her finger, laving over the tiniest wound. My teeth grazed her fingertip and I bit down until she flinched and whimpered. “There you go. All good,” I said, letting her finger slip out of my mouth.

  She went to snatch her hand away, but I held fast. “We have eyes on us, Julianna.”

  Her brows furrowed, before her eyes widened in understanding. “Oh.”

  “Oh,” I echoed.

  She plastered a fake smile on her face. “Your father,” she said.

  My eyes flickered over her shoulder to find our stalker watching us. I nodded. “Play along, Beasty. It’s a dying man’s wish.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Gideon,” I answered, without needing her to clarify her question.

  I tucked the flower into her hair; Julianna let out a barely audible gasp before I gripped her hand in mine, tugging her forward. We resumed our walk along the path of the castle’s garden. The royal people in the Victorian era sure loved anything fancy and grand. Who the fuck needed a seven-hundred acre garden?

  Once we reached the fountain, the one sitting in the middle of the path, Julianna released my arm and limped over to it. With my hands shoved in the pockets of my slacks, I watched as she sat herself down on the flat surface of the fountain, stretching her legs out in front of her.

  Our eyes collided before they locked with each other, in a silent battle. Julianna was quiet for a moment, before she opened her mouth and ruined our peace treaty.

  “What was your favorite thing about my sister?” she whispered.

  My muscles tensed at her words. “You have a penchant for self-destruction, Beasty.”

  “Answer the question.”

  My chest tightened and I growled, “Her hair. It was unique, different… beautiful.”

  Julianna gave me a bittersweet smile. “Do you think she’d love the new you? This Killian standing in front of me, right now? So full of rage and hatred.” She shook her head sadly. “She’d hate you more than anything.”

  It was almost as if Julianna wanted me to hate her. She didn’t think before she spoke, bringing up her dead sister when she knew the reason behind my hatred was herself.

  I stalked over to her and she gasped when my arm snaked out, too fast for her to act. My fingers circled around her throat and I squeezed, pulling her up. She stumbled into me, our chests colliding together.

  Julianna let out a small sound and she fumbled, her nails digging into the back of my hand that was currently wrapped around her pretty neck.

  “What is this new, stupid act?” I hissed, my breath fanning over her veil. “You’re digging your grave deeper, Julianna.”

  My hand tightened around her throat, not enough to choke – I knew she could still breathe easily – but it was a warning. I saw fear flash behind the grey in her eyes and she trembled under my hold.

  “What can you do to me that has not already been done?” she muttered softly.

  “I am your karma,” I growled in her face. “I could tear you apart if I wanted.”

  She breathed, her eyes still locked on mine, stubbornly.

  “I’m in your soul, Beasty. I see you for who you are. A villain, my enemy – the reason behind my half-dead heart. I’ve made you weak; I’ve brought out your vulnerability and I’ve used it against you. But you’re so fucking naïve, still standing in front of me, with your stupid act, as if you’re strong. But you’re not, Julianna. I’ve seen the real you. The bleeding you. The you behind this veil, behind that façade, and you know who she is? A feeble creature with bones stained with sin, blood under her fingernails, and soulless eyes. I’m standing in the ashes of who you used to be, Beasty.”

  Tears filled her eyes and I smelled her defeat; it was so potent that I tasted her defeat on my tongue. Her body went slack under my hand, the fight finally leaving her body. “And you know what’s laughable?”

  A single tear escaped her eye, sliding down her cheek, hidden behind the veil.

  “I haven’t even started yet. Your life is mine. Call me a monster, but you’re the one with blood on her hands.”

  Julianna made a choking sound in the back of the throat, holding back a sob.

  I released her and she stumbled back, shaking her head. “You’re heartless,” she cried. “Downright cruel; it’s almost inhuman.”

  I watched her gasp, tears spilling down her cheeks before she spun on her heels and ran away, stumbling and limping into the labyrinth.

  Fire flared inside me, hot and raging. She shouldn’t have baited me, shouldn’t have brought up her sister when she knew damn well what it meant to me. I raked my fingers through my hair, pulling until my scalp burned. From the corner of my eye, I saw Gideon walking toward me from a distance. Fuck.

  This was the last thing I needed right now. Gideon questioning me and then reporting back to my father. With a growl, I rushed after Julianna.

  Once inside the labyrinth, I called out for her. “Julianna!”

  Sh
e couldn’t have gone far, but this was a dangerous place. Once lost, it was near impossible for her to find her way out. We’d be stuck in here all day and well into the night.

  “Julianna,” I yelled loudly. “Call out to me.”

  She didn’t.

  I moved around the labyrinth, left and right, only to come across three dead ends and no sign of her. “Goddamn it,” I swore under my breath.

  Tugging at the collar of my shirt, I snapped the first two buttons open. It was too hot today and here I was, chasing after my fucking wife – in a goddamn labyrinth.

  There was a wounded cry to my far left that made me pause. When the sound came again farther away, but it still sounded like Julianna, I ran toward it.

  There she was.

  On the ground, as if her legs had given out on her. A wretched sob came out of her throat. “Stay…away from… me, Killian.”

  I shook my head, approaching her slowly. “Can’t do that, Beasty.”

  She sniffled. “We are toxic together. Poison.”

  “I agree.”

  Julianna brought a hand up, as if to ward me off. “Don’t come any… closer.”

  It didn’t stop me. I paused when the front of my polished, leather shoes bumped into her ankles. I crouched down, coming to her level. “You’re my wife.”

  She let out a humorless laugh. “A farce of a marriage. I remember your vows clearly, Killian.”

  “To hurt you, to break you… In health and in sickness, through sorrow and pain, for all the days in my life, I will be your worst nightmare,” I rasped, bringing our faces closer. “Till death do us part.”

  She crumpled under my eyes and watching her break should have brought me satisfaction. My sternum ached and there was a tight vice clutching my chest and squeezing my heart.

  I didn’t care for Julianna.

  But goddamn it, why did her tears remind me so much of Gracelynn’s?

  I grasped her elbow, pulling her up, and that was when she went absolutely ballistic on me. Screaming at the top of her lungs and swatting at my hands, struggling against me. “Let me go!”