Where she found the strength to speak at all, she did not know. She was mildly impressed with herself that she found the ability at all. “Wraith, if you have come to kill me or take me back to your master, then—then do it.” Tears stung her eyes.
Long, ghoulish hands curled into fists. She watched in horror as the monster…shifted. It shrank and changed as robes made of darkness turned to those of fabric. And before she could truly understand what was happening, one fiend from her nightmares had turned to another.
Gideon.
Silver hair draped from the shadow of the hood he wore. Backlit by the inferno that was the village, she could not see his face. But his posture was drawn tight as a bow. She could feel his fury from where she was, just as bright as the flames.
And just as dangerous.
He is a wraith. I am truly married to a monster.
“I—”
“Silence!”
Shrinking back at his voice, she curled her legs up into herself. The single word had been a hiss of pure rage. I am to die here. I am to die here with all the rest. I am certain of it.
Undoing the clasp of his robe, he whirled it from his shoulders and hurled it atop her. In one swift movement, she was draped in the thick black fabric. She was happy for the garb, glad to hide her nudity, but as she saw his features, she suddenly wished he had kept it.
Fury. That was the only word for it. His chest rose and fell in deep, fast gasps. His lips were pulled in a grimace, and those silver eyes reflected the all-consuming white-hot orange and reds of the fire, giving him all the illusion that he was made of the destruction he had wrought.
Cowering, she wrapped the robe around herself and waited for his anger to turn itself upon her. She did not have to wait long.
“Explain.”
One more word filled with such seething hatred that she could not help but duck her head and try to hide within the veil of her hair. She could not think of how to respond.
“Now.”
Shutting her eyes, tears streaked down her cheeks—likely cutting paths through the drying blood she could feel spattered there. “I need to escape—”
“Escape me.”
“You are a monster.” The words were whispered, but she knew he could hear her all the same.
Silence for a long moment. “And the instant you make your bid for freedom, you spread your legs for three men?” A growl left him. “What were you thinking, you naïve child!”
“I had no choice!” Some manner of anger came up in her in response to his. Murdering her was one thing. But he did not need to insult her in the process.
“Oh? They were defiling you against your will?” He huffed a sarcastic, cruel laugh. “I heard no cries of protest. I saw no resistance.”
“There were none.” She finally lifted her head to look up at him. “They are—were—mercenaries. They agreed to take me far from here. To keep me safe. But they are soldiers of fortune. What else could I pay them in? I have no other currency with which to barter.”
Snarling, he reached down and snatched her left wrist. Without warning, he yanked her roughly up onto her feet. He held her wrist up between them, clenching tightly enough that it stung.
Jaw ticking, silver eyes flashing in hatred, he said nothing. He did not need to. He was holding up her wedding ring.
“I would break my holy vows to see myself spared from an unholy beast,” she murmured.
Grimacing again, he yanked her toward him until she was only inches away. She tugged on her wrist, but there was no use. He was far too strong. “They would have used you and left you here or slit your throat and left you for dead once they had what they wanted, you ignorant fool!”
“It was a chance I had to take.”
“No. It was not. Nor was it one you will ever have the opportunity to make again.” He yanked her into him, his other hand fisting painfully in her hair at the back of her neck. He craned her head back to face him. “Listen to me carefully, Marguerite…you belong to me.”
* * *
Gideon wasuncertain if he had ever been so angry in his life as he was in that moment. He had found his wife beneath another man, surrounded by two more. Her eyes were wide in fear, but…also in anticipation.