A Thousand Cuts (Underworld Kings)

Not to mention I was wearing another man’s ring. That probably should’ve been first and foremost in my mind, but it barely resonated.

I pushed the chair back as I stood, my whole body coiled to run. My eyes flickered to the door and then back to Cristian. He was watching me, waiting to see if I did the predictable thing and got the fuck out of Dodge. My fight or flight response was firmly in place, but I knew that running would do me little good right now. He wouldn’t be sitting so casually, so confidently, if I had the option to flee. Beyond that, some sick part of me wanted to know more, understand how and why this man thought he could contemplate something so shockingly preposterous.

I sensed that Pete was in some danger. That wasn’t high up on my list of things to worry about, yet again highlighting what an incredibly selfish person I was. I didn’t want him dead or hurt, but he’d made his own bed. He was a grown-up. I had no desire to save him.

“You think I’m going to offer myself up, sacrifice myself, in order to clear Pete’s debts?” My eyes flickered over him once more. “Make sure that he won’t get his legs broken?”

Cristian’s brow twitched, and his mouth curved upward. “No, Sienna, I did not expect you to offer yourself up in sacrifice.” The knowing in his voice made me crazy. What he didn’t say caused pressure to build in my chest, making it suddenly difficult to breathe.

He didn’t expect me to offer myself willingly, yet he was acting like my choice wasn’t even a factor in this.

“There is so much wrong with this situation,” I muttered, starting to pace. “So much.” I stopped to glare at him. “I’m sure you’re aware of this since you’re a grown man who’s seemingly educated, and it’s the twenty-first century. Vikings is nothing but a show, a great one, I’ll give you that, but just a show. We do not live in an era where you can snatch a woman off the street and force her to become your wife. Beyond that, you’re a rich, successful and handsome man. I doubt you need to be snatching women off the street to marry them.”

There were many, many other things to say at this juncture, but for the first time in a long time, I was taken aback. Panicked. Unable to catalogue my thoughts as I usually did. Tailor specific and perfect answers for the given situation.

I’d lived a troubled and fucked-up life. I’d been in many weird, dangerous and unnerving situations. In all of those situations, I’d been made of stone. Confident. Calm.

But this was not that. There was a pressure on my chest, climbing up my throat, telling me that this moment was going to be a defining one in my life.

“I am a powerful man,” he steepled his fingers. “I am a dangerous one too, as you’d do well to remember. I do not have the time nor the inclination to meet a woman, woo her into marriage or even enter into an arrangement with one who is willing.” He stood, rounding his desk and descending on me.

I didn’t move. Not an inch. But I did flinch when he grasped my chin in his hands. His grip was firm, but if I’d tried, I might’ve been able to pull myself from it. I didn’t try. But I did glare at him, hoping to communicate all the hate I had for him. I was furious at how much I’d craved him when I knew nothing about him beyond the way he fucked.

His eyes twinkled, like he was amused. Like he was enjoying this. They weren’t entirely light, though. There was something else, a warning, an emptiness in those emerald irises.

“You’re smart, Sienna,” he murmured. “You know I’m dangerous. You sensed it the second our eyes met. Despite that, you left with me without knowing a fucking thing about me. You gave me every part of you, and now I want more. These are the consequences for your actions. Of taking my hand. Of letting that piece of shit slide that ring on your finger.”

Cristian fingered the ring, and for a moment I thought he was going to rip it from my finger. But he didn’t. He left it there. His focus moved as he leaned in to lay his lips on mine. The kiss was not gentle, despite the soft way his lips moved. No, it was a gesture of violence. Victory.

I yanked my mouth from his, but not before I lingered for a few seconds. Cristian didn’t try to hold on to me. He didn’t need to. He was acting like he already had me.

“I see you want to fight this,” he commented, eyes alight with a fire of his own. “That does not surprise me. You are still clinging on to that image you try to project to the world. You are trying to deny all of your sordid wants. You are going to act disgusted at this turn of events, but it excites you.” His eyes traveled up and down my body. “I’ll bet your cunt is drenched at the idea of marrying me. Being owned by me.”