Orient Fevre
“Because we’re married. This Marktha will mark you as mine.”
“Say again?”
“This Marktha will mark you as mine?”
“No, before that.”
“We’re married.”
“We are?”
“Yes. I married you last night in a D’Keghan ceremony.”
I burst out laughing. This was fucking hilarious. Only, Levy didn’t join my laugh. He looked dead serious.
“No, really. I don’t recall I was that drunk I can’t remember my own wedding. Which parts during our romp were we married again?”
Levy grabbed my arm and clasped the bangle on me. “When the chosen bride utters the man’s name three times, and the man recites the Kisacte-nya Zharaiha, the man shall go forth to mark his mate with a Marktha, which binds the holy matrimony between them, followed with the claiming and spilling the man’s seed into his bride’s womb.” He tugged my chin up. “I think that covers everything we did last night. Any questions?”
“You’re joking, right?”
“I don’t joke in matters like this. You are officially my wife. I claimed you lawfully according to the D’Keghan law.”
Out of nowhere, a headache slammed my cranial like a hurricane crashing into a small island. I swayed, feeling so unreal. I couldn’t be married. This whole thing was a joke.
“Are you all right?”
Levy steadied me when I momentarily lost my balance from the shock.
“No, I’m not all right,” I snarled, pushing his hands away. “I came to you last night for a quick fuck, not to get married.”
“On the contrary, I came to Ernye for a bride.”
“You didn’t ask me if I agreed to become your wife.”
“Your agreement isn’t required. As long as you said my name three times and I recited the Kisacte-nya Zharaiha perfectly, we are a lawfully wedded husband and wife.”
“My agreement isn’t required? What kind of bullshit is that? You should have told me first.”
Levy narrowed his eyes, looking annoyed. “I didn’t know you were the one until I kissed you. I simply can’t let you go.”
“Then, I want a divorce.” I yanked the stupid gold bangle from my arm and slammed it on the coffee table. I grabbed my boots and slipped into them as fast as I could.
His piercing blue eyes glittered alive and his lips pursed. The beast within him looked as if it was ready to pounce. He was as dangerous as he’d been last night when I’d approached him in the bar. My hunch had told me I shouldn’t have been messing around with him, and it was proven right. Maybe I should have paid more attention to my instincts.
“I won’t grant you a divorce. You’re mine forever, Violet Jasmine Cross. Not even death will us part.”
“How did you know my middle—whatever. I’m out of here.”
“We’re not finished having this discussion.”
“Oh, yes. I’m finished. There’s nothing to discuss. You can’t pick up a woman in a bar, trick her into getting married without telling her and expect her to be okay with it. I don’t even know you.”
“That is why we got married, to get to know each other.”
I shook my head. “You people are weird. I’m leaving. Goodbye, Levy Frye.”
“You’re not leaving me this easy, Violet.”