Page 28 of Cruel Deception
Mine forever.
My stomach drops. The room tilts.
And then it hits me.
“We’ll meet at the altar.”
Two days ago. That was the last thing he said to me before vanishing.
This is what he meant.
He planned this.
He always meant to steal the wedding, steal the vows, steal me.
The priest hesitates. “The rings?” he prompts, unsure if he should speak at all.
Cassian doesn’t wait. He takes my left hand—his touch rough, claiming—and slides the ring onto my finger with agonizing slowness, his thumb grazing the scar near my knuckle like he already owns that too.
“You wear my name now,” he murmurs, so low only I hear it. “There’s no undoing this.”
My fingers tremble as I lift his ring, but he catches my wrist before I can slide it on.
“I want you to kiss it,” he says, loud enough for the front row to hear.
My heart lurches.
“What?”
“Kiss my ring. Then put it on.”
A demand, not a request. A performance. A humiliation wrapped in power.
The priest flinches. My father stiffens a few rows back.
I hear someone whisper, “Is he serious?”
But I do it.
I press my lips to the cold band—my stomach churning—and slide it onto his finger, trying not to shake.
The priest clears his throat. “By the power vested in me...”
But the words blur. All I hear is the sound of blood in my ears and Cassian’s breath at my neck as he leans in and whispers—
“You’re mine now, wife.”
“Kiss her,” a guest calls, a bold voice from the back, but the room falls silent as Cassian’s eyes darken.
He leans in again, his lips brushing mine, not a kiss but a brand, brief and possessive.
My skin burns, shame and fear tangling with a traitor’s spark of heat. The crowd claps, a hollow sound, as he pulls back, his hand still on my wrist, chaining me to him
The ceremony ends, but no one moves right away.
Then the spell breaks.
Chairs scrape. Guests rise. A softer melody begins, signaling the shift. A staff member gently touches my arm, guiding me off the altar. I follow stiffly, my body moving but my mind numb.
