Page 54 of Luna's Forgotten Vow

I had tried to get more out of her but it had been a long day and we were both spent after dancing the evening away at Solstice. She passed out and asking her when she was sober was like asking a wall to grow apples.

It's almost easy to put two and two together, and the blast of jealousy I feel is abysmal. I turn my gaze to my food and force the steak past my lips, all the while keeping my expression pleasant.

He brought his ex to dinner? To spite me? To show me just how little I truly matter and how easily he can replace me if I continue to act stubborn?

I can see why he'd choose her. She's tall enough that you have no doubt about how creative they'd both be in the bedroom, exploring styles that have probably never been heard of before. She is beautiful, in an exotic way that belongs on those human magazines. Silver gray eyes that bewitch, lips that are made solely to bring a man pleasure and a face men would go to war for.

Yes. They would make a sickeningly perfect image.

I tune out the rest of the conversation, eating even if I don't feel like it, engaging even if I no longer feel the need to please Soren's guests.

At some point, Rayne leans forward, saying something to Soren that I don't catch. Something that earns her a small laugh.

I reach for the salt, and he reaches for it too in the same moment, his calloused fingers brushing against mine. Despite the clenching in my stomach, I look at his hand like he might transfer a disease.

He withdraws immediately, fists clenching. "That's enough spice."

"Trying to manipulate my diet, too? Get a life, Soren," I say under my breath, scattering more salt and pepper into the broth, just to spite him.

His growl is nearly imperceptible. I might not have heard it if I wasn't so attuned to him. "For how long will you continue to openly disrespect and defy me? You act like a petulant child."

My spoon scrapes against the silverware a little too loud and I raise my eyes to his. "Why? You cannot stand seeing that one single thing doesn't bend to your will? I suggest you get used to it. This is all the me you'll be receiving from now on. And if you grow tired, you can always throw me out and annul our marriage." I manage a shrug. "Trust me. I wouldn't give two fucks."

While he glares at me like he wants to snap my neck, I slurp the broth and hide my cringe. It's too salty.

"I consider it everyday." His words are in my head this time, voice low and sharp, striking like a slap against my face. "But unfortunately, it'd be a bad look, having my Luna begging on the streets like a stray."

The world blanks out and the wind roars in my ears, carrying his angry, wicked words. And maybe it is my hormones, maybe it is shoving down my emotions for weeks now, but my outlet comes with one single movement.

I have no control over my hand as it wraps around the butter knife and aims for Soren's head with shocking speed.

Gasps scatter around the table. For a slow moment, I think he might not move out of the way fast enough and my heart lurches, fear unlike anything I have felt numbing me to the spot.

At the very last second, Soren moves, but not before the knife grazes his left cheek, drawing blood. It sinks into the cushion beside his head deeply, going all the way to its hilt.

You could hear a pin drop. Even the soft music coming from the mezzanine has come to a halt. Soren's eyes are feverishly bright as he brings a hand to his cheek, tracing the line as though it is something precious.

His eyes bore into mine and his next words are a softly spoken whisper. "You're all excused."

Furniture scrapes. Feet shuffle. Rayne leans forward. "You should get that looked at?—"

"You're dismissed," Soren murmurs without looking away from me.

She is wise enough not to argue against the order. I try to make my legs work, but they fail me, feeling like wood encased in lead. I shiver and tremble under the weight of his stare, and when the double doors close heavily, the only sound left in the hall is that of our breathing.

"You could've killed me." Soren drops his hand from his cheek and I see that the skin is already healed. "Did you want to?"

I swallow thickly, several warning bells going off in my mind. His eyes are glowing, gold capturing the dark green until only a thin band remains. "I don't know."

It's not a lie. If I could describe the emotions I felt in that one moment, I would call it a murderous rage.

Soren's lips curve, wide, and he plucks the knife out of the cushion, only to hand it back to me. "Do it again." He scrapes a free hand along his jaw. "It'll make you feel better."

I don't take it. I don't understand the odd light in his eyes. I've never seen him like this before. It's scaring the fuck out of me.

Again, I feel him slip within the walls of my mind, even if my mental shields are up, even if I fight against him. It's almost too easy. "You hate me. The thought of killing me is the only thing that calms your rage. You should take the knife. Do it. I won't stop you."

He's pulling an aura on me, but it isn't forceful. It feels like an artful seduction with his words, slow, beautiful. Before I can stop myself, I stand, fingers wrapping around the hilt of the knife.

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