Page 34 of Brutal Knight

It’s her wedding day. She looks so young it’s painful. I’ve known young couples, but Willow is all but a child in the picture. She still has a youthful glow, an innocent sheen to her face. She looks like someone’s little sister.

The picture is at the entryway of a church. I vaguely recognize it. It’s from across town. The pews are decorated in stark white and the Raven Syndicate’s favorite navy blue, almost black. Something about the color combination looks like a wedding and funeral all at once.

I can’t help thinking it was like a prediction.

Willow’s dress looks like it’s almost swallowing her whole. It’s voluminous, layers of ruffles making her look like the doll atop a wedding cake. I wonder if Dmitri purposely wanted her to be unable to move, or if she chose it.

Not that it matters. All that matters is that our wedding will be nothing like this one.

I make a list of everything as I flip through pictures. She looks hopeful in all of them, her face turned up to Dmitri. There are stars in her eyes. She looks nervous but ecstatic, like this is the best thing that’s happened in her life.

I wonder if he lied to her before they were married. He must have. There’s no other reason she’d look at him like that, like he’s her savior. He must have promised her the world.

Dmitri was a psychotic asshole, and now that I can see what he did to Willow up close, I know more than ever that I hate him. I hate him more than when I thought he was just a conniving, power-hungry bastard. I hate that he tried to break Willow, tried to do what he thought would ruin her.

She deserved better than him.

My gaze scans the pictures, entranced by what I see in them. There’s one of Willow by herself, standing beneath a tree at the back of the church. She’s in a tiny garden, flowers surrounding her. Her smile lights up the entire frame.

She looks like a girl who loves laughing, a girl whose smile is sweeter than honey. Her blue-gray eyes look like rolling clouds on a spring day, just after the rain, when the flowers are brightest. She looks like a woman you could fall in love with at first sight.

She didn’t deserve what Dmitri did to her. She doesn’t deserve what’s happening to her now.

It’s ironic for me to think of Dmitri as undeserving, I know. I’m the second man who’s about to force her to marry him.

But there’s no choice for either of us.

If I don’t marry Willow, she’ll be easy prey for someone else, and there’s little guarantee that they’ll be as kind to her as I will be. The Ravens are still jockeying for position, trying to elbow their way into some amount of power. Everyone from the top string to the low-level runners are taking a shot at the throne. One of them, or someone else, would take her and use her.

At least if it’s me marrying her, I’ll treat her well. I won’t demand anything from her, beyond my ring on her finger. I know that Willow’s been hurt. I don’t expect her to ever love me, much less like me. But I can live with that if she’s safe.

I try to let my good intentions reassure me, but it feels hollow. No matter how nice her prison will be, she’s still going to be a prisoner.

* * *

I spend my mornings working out in my gym. Before I brought Willow home, I worried that maybe it wouldn’t be good to do while she was around. I thought it might remind her of Dmitri’s violence.

But she’s barely come out of her room, so I decided maybe it was fine. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

I have the bag in front of me this morning. I go hard, trying to take out the frustration I feel about this entire situation. I don’t know how to make things work with Willow.

I’ve tried everything I can, and now all that will help is time. But I know we don’t have time. I want to give her space, want to let her come to terms with everything—but the outside world isn’t going to wait.

The helplessness I feel about it makes me angry. I can’t turn back time, and I can’t bring Dmitri back to kill him again. I know it wouldn’t make me feel any better, either. I just have to let things unfold and do the best I can.

For all my frustration, I still notice when I feel someone watching me.

I turn to look and find Willow in the doorway. She almost jumps, her whole body reacting to me noticing her. She seems startled that I caught her watching. She shrinks back and starts to turn away.

Despite the strange tension between us, I can’t just watch her leave. So I take a chance.

“Good morning,” I say, keeping my tone even. I let my hands hang loose at my sides.

I’m hoping I don’t seem like a threat. I’m acutely aware of what I was just doing.

Willow’s gaze flicks back to me. For a second, I see her scanning my chest. I’m not wearing a shirt. There’s a small flicker of pride that rises in me when I watch her, noticing how her attention lingers.

I wipe sweat from my face as I let her look. Her gaze wanders over me for a moment before it stops somewhere on my abdomen, to the right of my stomach.

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