Page 35 of Ruthless Moon
“I know it’s not what you’re used to, but it’s home and—”
“Please don’t.” My interruption stills his words. “Your home is lovely. I hate my father’s house. He built it as a monument to his ego, a testament to his rivalry with his brother and a showpiece for his business associates. To my father, appearances and power are everything. That house is nothing more to me than a marble prison.”
Shock flickers across Aiden’s face, rapidly chased away by a surge of anger darkening his warm brown eyes. “I give you my word to help you live as free as I can once we’re married. I know this is arranged. I know I’m not your choice, but I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m another prison.”
“But you are,” I confess.
Aiden’s face tightens, a flash of wounded surprise crossing his handsome features. His eyes, warm pools of rich brown, dim ever so slightly. It’s as if my words have punctured something within him too, and for a moment, a raw, naked vulnerability mirrors my own angst.
I shouldn’t have said it.
I should’ve let him believe he could soften the harsh edges of my reality. But I knew better. I knew our impending marriage was a move on the chessboard, a pawn sacrificed in the opening credits of the grand show my father had planned.
“I’m sorry,” I start again, my voice strained, the desperate need to make him understand burning beneath my breastbone. “I do appreciate your sentiment. It’s just... I’ve lived in the shadow of my father’s cruelty a lot longer than you. Oliver Gallagher is a master at this game. He’s a chess player who, with a well-placed distraction, manipulates everyone around him into believing the game is merely checkers.”
“He will never touch you again once we’re bonded.”
If only I could believe that was true.
Being bonded to Aiden doesn’t guarantee my safety. It merely solidifies my father’s control over him. I open my mouth to tell him as much, but hesitate. Instead, a different warning slips free. A warning that won’t stop the plan, but maybe it will help.
“Just be wary, Aiden. My father is unpredictable and he never reveals his full hand.”
“Understood.” Aiden’s response is curt, and his tone carries the steel of determination. He gestures for me to follow him deeper into the heart of his cabin.
As we cross through the living space, I find my eyes drawn to the pictures of smiling faces on the mantelpiece, the well-used books neatly stacked on a short bookshelf. There’s a lived-in warmth that embraces me, nudging at the edges of my apprehension.
I can see myself curled up on the couch, a book in hand, the fire crackling in the large hearth. For a single moment, I wish for such a quiet, carefree life where Oliver Gallagher cannot reach me.
It’ll never happen.
“Would you sit with me?” Aiden gestures toward a rustic kitchen table in front of a bay window overlooking the lake. “All this talk of games and cards makes me want to be sure we speak openly before the wedding. Can I get you a glass of water?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He pulls out a chair and I take a seat. The view mesmerizes me, a tranquil setting compared with the tension thrumming inside my chest.
“You can talk to me about anything, Gen. I want this marriage to be a partnership, not a dictatorship.” Aiden’s words resonate with sincerity, embedding themselves deep within the crevices of my guarded heart.
This marriage.A pang of despair seizes my heart, tempting me to flee. But I suppress the urge, knowing well that running now would be cowardly and selfish, and I’m neither of those things. “I appreciate you saying that, but—” I thread my fingers through a loose piece of my hair, untangling a small knot.
Crazy as it is, the impending marriage isn’t what needs addressing right now.
As Aiden moves to the fridge to fill a glass of water, my eyes follow him, tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, weighed down by a deep, personal loss.
He returns, setting the glass before me, and as he takes a seat, the flicker of sadness in his eyes is impossible to miss. It’s a reflection of the profound pain I know he’s wrestling with. A pain that mirrors the anguish nesting in my soul.
“Tell me about her, please. The mate, the wife, you lost.”
He hesitates, a shadow of pain crossing his features before he gives me a barely perceptible nod. “Ember... Ember was adventurous and brave and had the biggest heart. If anyone needed anything, she would be there first in line to help. She would’ve liked you.”
“She sounds like an amazing person.”
Fidgeting, rubbing his hands together as if fighting an unseen battle, he admits, “She was.”
“What happened?” I prompt gently, a wave of empathy washing over me.
“It was a car accident.”