“I am such an idiot,” I manage to say.
“No,” Quinn says quickly, and he sits next to me on the bed. He wraps his arms around me and I start to cry because for the first time, I can. For the first time, I know he’s not going to hurt me for crying and I need to just let it all out.
My family.
My parents.
My Darin.
They all completely betrayed me. They wanted me to be stolen away, and what? Murdered? Tortured? Sold into sexual slavery? What was it they wanted from me?
Did they just want to be rid of me so bad?
Is that what this was all about?
I really thought Darin liked me. Loved? Not so much. Love isn’t a big thing on Mirroean. I’ve read the fairy tales and the romance novels and heard all of the stories about love being this huge, giant thing that can conquer any problem, but that’s not what we believe on Mirroean.
On Mirroean, marriage is a business transaction.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Darin tolerates me because our families need to merge together. Our engagement was arranged by our parents and we were both satisfied with it. We’re both young and energetic and have similar interests.
When I agreed to marry Darin, it was because I thought it wouldn’t be that bad.
That was literally what I thought.
“Darin? That won’t be so bad.”
My first thought was that my parents chose a decent person. My first thought was that they’d chosen someone I could stand being around. My first thought was that Darin wasn’t the kind of guy who was going to demand much from me, provided I showed up to social events.
That was what I thought.
I was so wrong.
“You aren’t stupid,” Quinn says. He pets my hair as I cry against his shoulder, and for a brief minute, I wonder why I couldn’t have met him under different circumstances. Why couldn’t he have been the ones my parents picked out? Why couldn’t he be the man I’m engaged to? Why couldn’t it be him?
He’s big and strong and not nearly as much of a dick as I want to pretend he is.
“You couldn’t have known, little one. You couldn’t have known.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I whisper. “I can’t go home now.”
“Have you forgotten?” He asks, curling a finger under my chin. He tilts my face so I’m looking right into his bright, sparkling eyes.
“Have I forgotten what, Quinn?”
“I own you, Fiona. You aren’t going anywhere, love.”
“But, I thought…”
“I’m sorry about what happened to you,” he says, and the tone of his voice makes me feel like he means it. “I’m really, truly sorry, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re on Dreagle. We’re on Dreagle and there’s no way I’m letting you go. Not here. Not now. You’ll die before you reach the safe zone.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Look at yourself, darling. You’re a tiny little human with damaged hands. Now, maybe they’re feeling all right because of the ointment I applied last night, but if we don’t put some more on soon, those pretty little palms are going to start burning because you had some deep fucking cuts on them.”