Forbidden Fate

by Mary Catherine Gebhard

“The blizzard is letting up,” I said.

  “What about Lottie?” she said. “Your child?”

  “I’ll come back once I’ve settled you.” I pulled her to the door.

  “Is there going to be something to come back to, Grayson?” she asked.

  I stopped. “What?”

  “You promised me no more broken promises. You said you wouldn’t give up everything.”

  “Who told you?”

  “West.”

  Rage crawled up my spine. “West was here?”

  “He wanted to talk. Is he lying? Are you about to give up everything? Destroy your family?”

  “I told you, Story. If it means keeping you alive, keeping you safe, I would do whatever it takes, no matter the consequences.”

  She nodded.

  I expected her to yell.

  Scream.

  The silence was more disconcerting. “Why aren’t you upset?”

  “You don’t get to be Atlas anymore, Grayson Crowne.”

  STORY

  * * *

  Grayson’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?” When I didn’t immediately respond, Grayson raised his voice. “What did you do, Story?”

  “I’m staying with West, but I have a plan—”

  He grabbed my arm, dragging me to the door.

  “Stop!” I scraped at his hand. “Let me go. Listen, I have a plan.”

  “We’re getting out of here.”

  I used all my strength to break out of his hold, slamming both hands into his wrist. With heaving breaths we separated.

  Grayson reached for me again, and I stepped backward.

  He looked wild and unhinged.

  “I’m not letting you stay with West, Story!”

  “I’m not letting you throw everything away, Grayson!”

  He looked left and right, grabbed the nearest antique—a vase—and chucked it against the wall. It shattered. “My family isn’t worth it! They don’t care about you or us, Snitch. You’re going to throw away our happiness for that?”

  “Your family treats me like garbage. You think I don’t want to see Tansy Crowne scraping by to make ends meet like I had to? See Gemma wear off the rack? I’ve been watching you, Grayson. I watch you when you don’t think I am, and I see how this is ripping you apart.”

  He looked away like he was ashamed. I know if I let Grayson destroy them, he would never forgive himself.

  I knew that, which is why I wasn’t hurt this time. It was the reason I’d made my choice so easily with West. Maybe we were each other’s glass shard, and we should walk away.

  But fatal flaws are fatal for a reason.

  “Do you think I can’t protect you?” he demanded.

  “You protect me better than anyone.”

  His blue eyes cracked.

  He dragged his hands through his hair.

  I stepped to him and placed a palm on his cheek. “I have lost so much. I lost who I was. I lost what made me me. I’m not letting that happen to you. I can’t take back what I did…It’s there. Sludge in my heart. A stain in my soul. But we don’t have to sink into that stain. That’s the easy way out.”

  Hiding in our demons. Saying because we did something bad, we have no choice but to be bad.

  “I want to be good. I want to be good with you. I don’t want what we’ve done to be our future.”

  I threaded my hands through his golden hair. “I want everything for you, Grayson. The way you want everything for me.”

  He looked up. “You are everything, all I need.”

  I thumbed the single tear that had fallen from his eye when he’d come to get me. “Then why were you crying?”

  He jerked his head out of my grip, turning away and giving me his back.

  Grayson Crowne didn’t cry, even in front of me.

  I waited for him to collect himself.

  When he turned around, all emotion was gone, and I was faced with Grayson Crowne.

  “I could force you,” he growled.

  “You could…” I said. “You could put my name on no-fly lists.”

  His face collapsed as he realized what I was implying. Back to what had started all this. He paced back and forth, dragged his hands through his hair.

  “Goddamn it, Snitch.”

  “We’ll take them down from the inside. I’ll get West to trust me, you get the coin—”

  He tugged me back to him, glare harder than I’d ever seen before. “There’s a cost to using a coin. Every time you use one, you’re giving power to the person you demanded a favor from. They can’t take back the favor you demanded of them, but they can demand something else, something darker. There’s a reason no one has used five coins. That’s an insane amount of power to give someone. I’m not putting my faith in fairy tales. Not when it comes to you.”

  “This is our last hope for a happily ever after Grayson, a real one, don’t you see? I’m not putting my faith in fairy tales, I’m putting it in you. In us. In trust. If it’s not real, we’ll figure it out—together. West cares for me, and we can use that—”

  “You want me to let you fucking seduce him?” he snarled.

  I saw the fear in his eyes, and I realized I needed to show him why this time was different. I wasn’t leaving him.

  Not really.

  “I’ll kill my grandfather,” Grayson said, nodding to himself like a light bulb had just gone off. “I’ll kill West. I’ll kill—”

  “I finally understand the weight on your shoulders. I know you want me.” I stepped to him and grabbed his hands. “I know you don’t want to let me go. I’m telling you, you won’t lose me.”

  His jaw clenched, eyes shadowed with distrust.

  “We have something they don’t have. Something they don’t see coming. Something they can’t steal.”

  His brows drew deeper together as he waited for me.

  “Trust—I don’t have to be by your side for you to own my heart.”

  He dragged me closer, pressing my hands to his chest.

  “You own it, Grayson,” I whispered against his lips. “You owned it before I even knew you’d taken it. You owned it when I hated you. You owned it while I was married to another man. You could be a thousand miles away and it would still be yours.”

  I kissed him.

  Trying to let him see the truth of my words on my lips.

  He kissed me back feverishly, as if he was trying to change my mind or maybe glue me to the spot with desire. I pulled away on a breath, and he tried to pull me back.

  “Grayson.”

  He ignored me, dragging me back, thrusting his tongue into my mouth.

  I shoved him off, taking a few steps back.

  “Let me shoulder some of your weight, Grayson. Let me carry that world with you. You didn’t fight this hard for your family to give it all away to West du Lac. Let’s cut our thread. Choose where our fate ends.”

  Grayson exhaled, running both hands through his hair.

  “I don’t want you to have to choose between your children. I don’t want them to grow up like you did. Vying for love like it’s a competition. I don’t want us to be on the run our whole lives or have our relationship ruin everything it touches. Do you think we can have that?”

  “I will give you anything, Snitch,” he gritted.

  “So then give me your trust. We’ll get that happily ever after. You said you wanted to be a hero for your sisters. A good man. A good father. We just need to fight fate a little while longer. But…together this time.”

  He eyed me. “Can you tell me you don’t love him? Can you promise me you won’t, Snitch?”

  “Do you trust me? Because I trust you, Grayson. I trust that we can do this and get through to the other side. No matter what happens. What he puts me through. What he does to me. What I have to do. What you have to do. Where we end up, what happens to our souls in the process. We’ll find that happily ever after as long as we stay truthful to each other.”

  Another long, soul-crushing stare, then Grayson rush
ed to me, pulling my face to his, kissing me breathless.

  When he pulled back, he still gripped my face. He had the look…the Grayson Crowne look that said he was about to do something terribly destructive, but when he spoke, he said, “Okay.”

  I gnawed on my lower lip.

  “I have twenty-four hours,” I said. “Will you give me what I want?”

  “Anything.”

  I smiled. “A night with Grayson Crowne.”

  A ghost of a smile flitted across his lips. “Just give me one thing, Snitch.”

  “Of course.”

  “Open your fucking locket.”

  The inside was dark green and…wet. I touched it and my finger came away green

  “Ink?”

  When I looked back, Grayson was on the ground, on his knee.

  “What are you doing?”

  My heart beat like a drum.

  Grayson’s eyes were pinched, and he took a moment to speak.

  “You said Mary Shelley carried her dead husband’s heart…and I thought about what my heart would be. What would be inside my heart? Every single time…” He trailed off and looked away; when he looked back, he smiled. “You’re the ink in my soul. You changed me. You made me different. Better. It’s you.”

  What was in Grayson Crowne’s heart?

  Me.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  “I can’t sign my name next to yours on a piece of paper. Can’t marry you the way I want. Can’t give you the big proposal. But…I don’t want to put a ring on your finger, Snitch. I want to put bruises on your body. I want to put ink in your soul. I want you to do the same to me. Forever.”

  “Forever?”

  “I was never letting you go, Story. I tried and failed.”

  Every time he looked at it, he saw forever with me.

  A future.

  I thumbed the butterflied heart on my chest, feeling like it was the one inside my rib cage. “I wore this for months.”

  His eyes drifted to the gold, voice rough. “Yeah.”

  “Someday I’m going to give a proposal the whole world can see, Snitch. Someday we won’t be in the shadows. We won’t be in the cracks. Even if it takes us our lifetimes, I’m going to give you a proposal the world can see. You’re going to wear my last name. But for now…Story Hale, will you marry me?”

  Sixty

  STORY

  * * *

  Fate had sweetened the air for us. It was softer and quieter. The blizzard was over, and the dovecote was dappled with moonlight. Our worlds were collapsing; we’d have only this night before I’d have to leave, before we’d give in to fate.

  I took a deep breath and stepped around the stone.

  Into my fate.

  Grayson didn’t see me at first. I got to watch him. It was like years ago when I would catch glimpses of Grayson Crowne being Grayson. He rubbed the center of his palm with his thumb, looking up and out one of the windows.

  Over and over again he rubbed his palm.

  Was he nervous?

  I took a step along the small makeshift aisle, and his head jolted up, eyes locking on me.

  Oh, wow.

  Grayson. His smile. That Grayson smile that lit up his whole face. I just stood there. Feeling warm and perfect. He was in a dark suit. Tall. The cobblestone behind him. His rose gold hair shone in the moonlight, and he was like a true prince out of a fairy tale.

  In that moment, I felt like I could stand there for hours and he really would wait for me.

  But I didn’t want to wait.

  I was so done with waiting.

  I ran up the aisle.

  I didn’t have a white dress, but I did have the one camel dress I’d picked out. He looked me up and down.

  “You are so fucking perfect.”

  I tucked the pocket square I’d saved into his suit pocket. His eyes reddened when he saw what it was.

  “There’s no use in hiding from how we got here, Grayson.” I adjusted the emerald color. “This day should have been mine.”

  He placed a finger beneath my chin, lifting my eyes to his.

  Then crushed my lips against his.

  “You’re supposed to wait until—” He kissed me again, and again.

  “After,” I said against his lips.

  “We were supposed to do a lot of things, Snitch.”

  He gripped my face, exhaling through his nostrils. “I have so much making up to do.”

  I looked around the dovecote. “Don’t we need some kind of priest or…friar?”

  “Fate has been our tireless escort, so fate will be our witness now.”

  I know this moment between Grayson and me meant nothing in the eyes of the law. He was still married to Lottie; I was still married to West…for now.

  But here, underneath the sprinkle of snowflakes falling through the cracks in the stone roof like cold glitter, everything was perfect and right.

  “You are my poetry, Story. You gave voice and power to my love, before and without you I am numb and empty. You’re my soulmate. My shard matches your shard. You’re my piece. My puzzle. I bleed with you.”

  I pressed my forehead to his. “All my life I needed someone to trust. Someone who wouldn’t betray me. I found that in you. In our darkness and our secrets.”

  “As long as I live, Story Hale, these vows will be the only ones that matter. The only ones I honor. The only ones I cherish.”

  Grayson pulled my ring finger up to his mouth, sliding it between his lips, biting until my gasp steamed the cold air.

  We stared into each other’s eyes. “Should we seal this marriage with a secret?” I joked.

  He rubbed the new bruise on my finger. “I think this marriage is the secret, Snitch.”

  I took a breath of cold air.

  It felt…monumental. Like something that should have always been just locked into place.

  “In whoever’s eyes count… you’re mine,” Grayson said. “You’re Mrs. Grayson Crowne. If I were shackled to a marriage, in prison, in hell, it would always be you, Story.”

  “It would always be you, Grayson.”

  Sixty-One

  STORY

  * * *

  “Mrs. Grayson Crowne.”

  I smiled into my shoulder. Grayson hadn’t stopped saying it, not after leaving the dovecote, not even now that we were back in his wing, in his bathroom as he insisted I take a bath to warm up.

  Grayson dragged his thumb across my bottom lip. “Don’t hide that from me.”

  He rubbed my lower lip, eyes never leaving mine. His lip quirked, like he knew exactly when his soft touch made my thighs hot, my gut ache.

  I swallowed, put my elbows on the edge of his bathtub as he trailed his hand down my spine. “I always wondered what it would be like to put my elbows here and overlook the beach.” Outside, the snow fell in soft flakes. “I love Christmas…The snow on the beach is so magical.”

  Will I still love Christmas when I’m shackled by it? Forced to return for the Holidays like Josephine, silent as the snow.

  “What happened?” Grayson asked with a soft grit. “Where did you go in your head?”

  Grayson’s touching was constant. Like he wanted to feel all of me. The lobe of my ear. The curve of my jaw. My shoulder.

  We had this one night together. Just this one. I thought Grayson would be urgent and pressing, but his touches were slow and careful, as if we had centuries for him to explore me.

  They stoked the fire in me.

  “I’m thinking about the future.”

  He paused, then got down until his lips were at my neck.

  “This room wasn’t right without you,” he said softly. “I felt like I was living with a ghost, but it was just you. Your memories.” He kissed the hollow between my ear and neck. “Mrs. Grayson Crowne.”

  “I like hearing it. I like…being Mrs. Grayson Crowne.”

  A low sound of need vibrated in his throat, and he yanked me out of the tub, onto his lap, before I could make a sound. Water fell every
where, soaking his clothes, as he kissed me. He grabbed a towel, covering me.

  He paused. “Why the tears, little nun?”

  I swiped my cheeks, feeling caught. I didn’t want to ruin this moment, these few special hours.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Story.” His voice was an iron warning.

  “I don’t want to leave you here,” I whispered. “I feel like I’m abandoning you in this dark castle. I’m worried about you.”

  He swiped his thumb across my cheek. “Then fucking stay. Stay with me. Don’t fucking leave, Story.”

  “You’ll lose everything.”

  “I don’t care.

  “You will.” I pressed my forehead to his. “When your mom and sister are on the street. When your grandfather is trying to come for us. When West has everything and you’ve left a child fatherless… You will. I know you, Grayson Crowne.”

  I think he wanted to say something.

  Argue with me.

  But maybe he felt the way I did, that with only a few more hours, it wasn’t worth ruining.

  He kissed me more slowly, soul-deep, stealing all my sadness and giving me his passion. Getting his clothes soaked and wet as he kissed me. Yet he grabbed another towel for me, wrapping it around my shoulders as he kissed me.

  My head fell back on a sigh as his lips came to the center of my throat, holding me steady. His lips slid to the side of my throat, up to my ear to whisper.

  “I want to ruin you with bruises, Story. I want them down your thighs. On your neck. Inside you. When you leave me, you’ll feel me. He’ll know what he’s taking and who’s coming to get it.”

  He grazed his teeth across my body, under my jaw, my neck, my shoulder, above my breast, my nipple, back to my shoulder. Like he’d been holding back for months and this was what he wanted to do first, love me, hold me, touch me, like he wanted to mark me forever before I had to go.

  “Would you let me, my little wife?”

  “Yes,” I gasped.

  “I knew you’d be such a good wife, Story.” He pushed the stray curls out of my face, sliding a finger inside me, working me, devouring my reaction. “Where first?”