Page 17 of Smoke

7

Alina

Things only got worsefrom there.

Three days passed without me so much as stepping foot outside my room. I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. I spent most of my time sitting by the window, staring out. Not seeing anything, not feeling anything. Still in shock, and horrified by the thought of living that way day after day.

Except once I was married to Bradley, I’d also have to worry every day if he was going to come for me. Would that be the day he decided he wanted his wife? When? How? For how long? My stomach turned at the thought of all the ways he’d want to degrade me.

I thought about throwing myself out the window. I thought about it more than once. It would be over quickly. The fall would probably be scarier than hitting the ground. When I hit the ground, it would all end. All of it. I wouldn’t even feel it. And I wouldn’t have to live in fear or pain.

I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was a coward. Too cowardly to even end my own life.

There was one more chance. One shot at avoiding the future Bradley had promised for me. I went to see George after three long, torturous days. The walk felt longer than ever.

Nothing about the mansion held any magic for me as I went. The windows didn’t sparkle, nor did the sunlight streaming through them. The stones which made up the walls no longer glowed. They may have for others who walked past, but not for me. They never would for me again. Had I really been naïve enough to not understand the existence of men like Bradley?

For the first time since coming home, I was glad my sister hadn’t come with me. She had escaped that monster. I would have to see if the same could be true for me.

He was in his office, as usual, and he smiled the way he always had when I knocked on the open door.

The big desk dwarfed him—Papa was abnormally large for one of the fae, while George was typically diminutive.

“Come in, dear.” How he could call me that after the way he’d spoken to me in front of Bradley was a mystery.

“I have to speak to you about something very important.” I closed and locked the door behind me.

“It must be important, if you’re so eager to lock us in together.” He leaned back in his chair, fingers tented beneath his chin. “What is it?”

Instead of answering right away, I pulled up the long sleeve of my dress to show him the ugly bruises on my forearm.

“Bradley did this to me after we met in here the other day,” I whispered shakily. “He hurt me terribly.” I took a cloth from my pocket and wiped my cheek as carefully as I could, removing the concealing tonic I had dabbed on my skin.

George’s eyes widened as more bruises were revealed.

“That’s terrible,” he announced, shaking his head. “I’m very sorry to see this. Very sorry, indeed.”

“I can’t marry him, Uncle George. You must see that now. I can’t possibly be wed to a creature like that. I would tell you the awful things he said to me, but I’m not sure I can repeat them.” I shuddered when I remembered, though.

He held up one hand. “No, please. There’s no need. If he was capable of doing this to you, I can only imagine what else he’s capable of.” He shook his head again, clicking his tongue this time. “Such a shame. I had such hopes, too.”

“So you see? You see that we can’t be married?” Would it be that easy? I hadn’t dared hope it would take so little to convince him.

“I never said that. Did I say that?”

No. It couldn’t be. My insides quaked. Tears filled my eyes. Weakness overtook me—I hadn’t eaten in days, and it caught up all at once. I swayed on my feet.

“Here, here.” He jumped from his chair and helped me sit on a small settee near the fireplace. “You look terrible, and it’s not just the bruises. Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“I… I…” I didn’t know what to say. What was there to be said? It was like the entire world was crashing in on me, and he wanted to know if I was taking care of myself? Since when did it matter to him what happened to me?

“Alina. I think it’s time you and I got a few things straight.”

Where had I heard something like that before? Oh, yes. From Bradley. He wanted me to understand the way our married life would go. Now my uncle wanted me to understand something, too. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know whatever it was. He pulled up a chair and sat in front of me, my hands in his.

“As I said, I’m sorry Bradley is such a brute. It grieves me terribly. I hate to think of my niece hurting this way.” He looked at the bruises on my arms and grimaced. “It really is such a shame.”

“But you still want me to marry him?”

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