Page 107 of Sins of the Hidden

She was silent, her face composed, but her eyes distant. A faint humming came from her throat—the melody she always used to calm herself during anxiety attacks. Joslyn noticed, her eyes widening in recognition and fear. "What's wrong with her?"

Staring her down, I simply said, "My wife isn't feeling well."

Joslyn’s eyes widened. "Wife?"

The word hung in the air. The entire room went dead silent. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Let the silence stretch uncomfortably long. Nobody wanted to be the first to speak.

Husk leaned on the pool cue, watching the scene unfold. He silently carved another small tally mark into his forearm with his thumbnail, pressing deeper this time until a thin bead of blood formed. "Well shit, didn't see that comin'." Knight hit a ball next to him, his grip tightening on the cue until his knuckles went white before he tossed it down with a clatter and left the room without a word, deliberately avoiding Victoria's gaze.

Joslyn spluttered a laugh, her eyes going to Oakley's. Oakley's head was still down as I grabbed her wrist, holding up to show everyone our rings. Her wrist was slack, not putting any effort to show everyone the ring I put on her finger.

Hex muttered under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear, "That's not a ring. That's a fuckin' leash."

Joslyn reached toward Oakley's face, then stopped herself halfway, fingers trembling in the air between them as if afraid her touch might shatter something fragile. Joslyn's eyes flickered between our hands, her face paling. "Oh my God."

I tightened my grip on Oakley's wrist, feeling the delicate bones shift beneath my fingers. My thumb pressed against the delicate bones in her wrist, sensing the rapid tremors of her panic.

Oakley stayed still, her head bowed, her body rigid beneath my grip. My fingers trailed to her shoulder, resting there in a casual touch that was unmistakably possessive.

She shifted beneath my hand. Not enough to pull away, not enough to defy—just enough to let me know she was still adjusting. She didn't resist. She didn't scream or run, because she knew me. She knew exactly who I was, what I was capable of—not against her, never against her, but against the rest of the world if she asked me to.

Faith spit out her drink from the couch where she sat with Victoria. "Wife?" Victoria echoed, her eyes never leaving Oakley's blank face. Victoria edged closer to Faith protectively,watching me with steady, suspicious eyes. She stepped slightly in front of Faith, a subtle shield.

Victoria stepped protectively forward. "She's shaking. That's what marriage looks like to you?"

"She's not shaking." I adjusted Oakley's wedding ring, turning it gently—like tightening a lock. "She's safe."

Husk whispered, just loud enough to carry across the room, "Does this mean we have to buy a fucking wedding gift?"

Another voice, Sarge, this time. "What's the registry—handcuffs and Xanax?"

Faith's eyes met Oakley's in a silent question: Are you okay? Oakley looked away, her eyes going glassy and unfocused. She was retreating inside herself, going somewhere I couldn't follow. Her consciousness folding inward like origami, creasing away from reality.

From the corner of the room, I caught Grim watching. His eyes shifted from Oakley's vacant expression to me, a flicker of dark amusement crossing his features. He approached us, face a perfect mask of control, though the corners of his mouth twitched with quiet enjoyment at the chaos unfolding.

"Funny how weddings are happier when both people remember being there," he said, just loud enough for me to hear. "You alright?" Grim asked Oakley, his voice surprisingly gentle, though his eyes betrayed his amusement at everyone's shock.

Oakley forced a vacant smile, though her jaw trembled visibly. Every heartbeat was a silent plea—play along, or they'll die. She didn't respond, didn't even look at him. Her fingers twisted the wedding band nervously, so much that the skin beneath was becoming red and irritated, mirroring the raw marks on her wrists.

I reached out to brush my fingers along her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. The touch was gentle, almost tender. She stiffened under my touch.

Victoria spoke up, eyes narrowed at me. "You've never even been interested in women until Oakley, and now you're married to her?" Her eyes softened at my wife. "Did he force you, sweetheart?"

"Oakley... this isn't you," Nyla added quietly.

Oakley looked up at Victoria, her voice perfectly neutral. "It's exactly me. You just weren't paying attention."

Joslyn reached for Oakley's hand gently. Oakley withdrew and visibly leaned into my side, the movement perfectly calculated.

"You don't have to worry," she said softly. "He takes good care of me."

Joslyn stepped back, her face draining of color. The gesture felt so alien and wrong that even her closest friend couldn't hide her horror.

Faith leaned forward, suspicious but softer. "Babe, your eyes are...different."

"Marriage changes people." Oakley's lips stretched into a forced smile, eyes vacant.

Sarge, who had been observing silently from the corner, finally spoke up. "If the girl says she's fine, she's fine."

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