Page 11 of Bound By Flames
"You’ve got one hour,” I inform her, nodding slightly, hoping she’ll get the warning in my voice.
“And if I don’t obey?” A light chuckle comes out of her full lips. Damn it, they are suddenly too distracting.
“I’ll come drag you out myself in front of everyone. And don’t test me, Mia, ‘cause I fucking will.” I don’t know why I’m so stubborn about her coming with me, she has a right to have fun with her sister. But for some reason, I want her to come up, even if it’s to fight some more.
Shaking her head with a loud exhale, she puts both hands in the air.
“Okay, one hour, but you’re seriously mental. It’s the 21st century, Ares, not the medieval ages.”
What in the? Mental? No woman ever talked to me this way, not even my sister.
Keeping my composure from a decade of training, I answer back as calmly as possible. Don’t want her to see how much she gets under my skin.
“I’ll give you a free pass on this one, but I expect respect from now on when you address me.” This would make any of my brothers shit their pants but the little burgundy creature in front of me looks completely unfazed.
“Wow, um, okay,” she says with a small laugh.
She’s laughing now? At me? For fuck’s sake.
“I’m gonna go now. Have fun upstairs waiting for me.” Then, she turns her back on me right after blowing me a kiss in the air.
What the actual fuck?
Vox would be dead laughing right now. I’m used to being respected and followed blindly. This, her, it’s…infuriating.
She’s infuriating.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I gather myself and walk upstairs.
This wasn’t how I'd pictured our wedding night.
Mia
He’s a caveman.
A total control-freak who expects me to answer to him like one of his men.
Nope. Never. That’s the only thing I have: my strength and my sass. And if he thinks he can somehowtame me,well, it will be a delight to show him how wrong he is.
I've spent enough time under the scrutiny and control of others in my own home to let a stranger dictate my actions today.
After dancing like crazy with Kiara on 2000s pop hits I requested from the DJ, I finally say goodbye to my family. It’sabout midnight, and the thought of saying goodbye to my sister suddenly makes me want to cry.
“Remember to behave,” my father warns me, patting my shoulder awkwardly. His speech is still echoing in my mind like a joke. “Don’t act difficult with him, he won’t like it and a lot of potential business deals depend on it now. We could develop new partnerships with the Raven Sons, so don’t mess this up.”
My mother approaches us, her bony figure reminding me of a ghost. “Of course she will mess this up, honey. Mia’s never done one thing right in her life,” she says casually, narcissism pouring out of her, and the sad thing is that I'm not even surprised at her remark. Habits, I guess.
“I’ll try my best,” I say with a frozen smile. There's no point fighting her, I've learned this lesson a long time ago. My mental health is worth more than trying to reason with her.
“You’re out of your depth, sweetie, but that’s alright. A man like him will surely know how to handle a girl like you.” She cups my cheek in her cold hand. Gentle yet lethal.
To anyone watching us, this would look like a sweet moment between the parents of the bride, but here, with them, all I can think is how grateful I am to finally be away from them. They never treated Kiara this way, thankfully. But I had the special treatment. The be-perfect-or-you-won’t-eat-tonight kind of treatment. It was always about staying put, being quiet, and fading in the background. Saying I was neglected would be the understatement of the century. It was never home. Our house has always been a cold place I never wanted to come back to.
The only thing making me stay and not run away was Kiara. Her sweet and kind nature, like a balm on all the twisted things my parents ever did to me. They never mistreated me in front of my sister, they kept it for the three of us. Our own little bubble of emotional abuse. Little remarks after I ate, commentson my body, gaslighting me about something I had supposedly said days ago and that had embarrassed them.
The list goes on.
We had money, domestics, and all the things money could buy. But love and warmth wasn’t part of it. At least not for me. The only comfort I got was watching them take care of my sister, listening to her, asking about her day. She bloomed into a beautiful and smart woman because she had been given the opportunity to have a childhood where she didn’t have to survive and dissociate herself to grow up. I envy her sometimes. It must have been great.
