Chapter 15 - Emerald

My mother always said nothing good happens after midnight, but she never mentioned how tempting darkness could be.

That probably explains why I'm wide awake and staring at a note that definitely qualifies as "not good."

I just found it in my bed. It falls out as I'm pulling back my covers, this pristine white rectangle against my flannel sheets that's basically a written invitation to trouble. My hands shake as I pick it up. The paper feels expensive, and I wouldn’t expect anything less from my stepfather.

Come to the chapel. -C

Four words that make my pulse race and my skin flush hot despite the December chill seeping through my bedroom windows. I know that handwriting, precise and commanding, just like the man who wrote it.

Cohen .

I shouldn’t go. It’s almost midnight, and the chapel is tucked away at the far edge of the property, hidden among trees weighed down by fresh snow. If my mother found out I was going to sneak out, she’d be furious.

Four words. That's all it takes to make my heart go completely wild and my skin feel like it's on fire, which is kind of impressive considering my room is basically the North Pole right now temperature-wise.

I'd know that handwriting anywhere. It’s all clean lines and sharp angles, just like the man himself. Because of course Cohen even manages to make his handwriting hot.

This is such a bad idea. The chapel's way out at the edge of the property, and if my mother caught me sneaking out?

God, I don't even want to think about what she'd do. Three days without food would probably be the least of my punishments.

But I'm already getting out of bed, so...

But I'm already sliding out of bed, so clearly my self-preservation instinct is broken. Or maybe it's because the chapel's the only place on this entire estate that feels like mine, even though I’ve never stepped foot inside.

Plus, Cohen's waiting.

Yeah, because that's totally a good reason to risk your mother's wrath, Emerald.

But I'm still going.

There's something about knowing Cohen's waiting that makes my whole body feel weirdly buzzy, like I've had way too much caffeine (which would never happen since Mother monitors my intake). Every cell feels like it's waking up for the first time, and the way he talked about the chapel earlier, all quiet and intense... yeah, there's no way I'm staying in bed.

My hands shake so bad it takes me three tries to zip up my boots, and then I slip into my jacket.

The house is creepy-quiet, just the heating running and the antique grandfather clock ticking away in the hall like it's counting down to something. I press my ear against my door, listening for any sign of movement. Like, I don't know, my mother's cloven hooves clomping down the hall to catch me being a huge disappointment.

But there’s nothing. Just silence.

Walking through the house at night is trippy. Everything looks different in the dark, all the fancy antiques casting weird shadows in the light reflecting off the snow. My heart's pounding so loud I'm amazed it doesn't wake anyone up as I sneak through the kitchen and out the back door.

The cold hits like a slap in the face almost as hard as my mother.

I follow Cohen's footprints in the snow, trying not to think about how this is probably going to end badly. The Christmas lights Mother insisted on stringing everywhere make the snow look kind of magical though, all these colors bleeding together. An owl screeches somewhere and I nearly jump out of my skin.

Every step puts more distance between me and my mother's kingdom, bringing me closer to... whatever this is with Cohen.

This is such a bad idea.

But I keep walking.

The chapel materializes out of the snow and night, its silhouette rising from the trees like something torn from a gothic fairytale. For something that's been my favorite view since forever, it looks different up close at night. The moonlight hits the stained glass just right, making colors dance across the snow. There's this warm glow coming from inside and it takes me a second to realize what it is.

Candles.

My heart stumbles. He’s already here. Waiting for me.

My hand's shaking so bad I almost can't get the door open. When I finally do, it lets out a loud creak, and I step into... wow. It’s a world of flickering shadows and golden light. There are candles everywhere, and someone (three guesses who) has wrapped evergreen garlands around the pews. It smells amazing, like Christmas trees and old wood and melting wax.

It's nothing like I imagined, and somehow it's better.

"You came." Cohen's voice emerges from the shadows near the altar. It’s low and gravelly and the entire lineup of birds from The Twelve Days of Christmas take flight in my stomach.

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

He steps into the light and... oh . He's wearing all black, the fabric of his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. The candlelight catches the silver in his eyes, making him look otherworldly. Dangerous.

"No," he says, with a gorgeous half-smile. "I knew you would. You can't resist me any more than I can resist you."

He walks toward me, and I freeze like a deer in headlights, torn between bolting and throwing myself at him. Instead, I force myself to stay still.

"This place is incredible," I manage to say, trying to slow down my racing heart. "I can't believe I've never been inside before."

"I know." He stops right in front of me, close enough that I can feel how warm he is. "Your mother keeps it locked. She hates what it represents." His fingers brush my cheek. "Love."

That word hangs in the air between us, and my heart's beating so fast I briefly wonder if I’m going to need medical attention.

"Love?" The word feels weird on my tongue. My mother's never loved anything except her brand and her social media following. "Is that what this is?"

His eyes go dark as his thumb traces my lip, and my brain completely stops working. "What else would make me willing to destroy everything just to have you?"

I shiver, and not from the cold. There's something about the way he says it—like nothing else matters to him except me. “You make it sound so easy."

"It is easy." His fingers slide into my hair, just tight enough to make me gasp. "The moment I saw you, I knew how this would end. Everything since then has just been leading us here."

"Why here?" My voice comes out embarrassingly breathless. "Why tonight?"

His eyes catch the candlelight as he cups my face. "Because this place was made for us, little phoenix. And I'm done waiting."

The words sink into my skin. Every touch, every stolen moment over the last week has led us here, to this unholy night in this sacred place. And despite everything—despite knowing this is wrong, despite knowing what it will cost—I've never wanted anything more.

"Neither of us is getting out of this unburned, are we?" I whisper.

His smile is all darkness and promise. "No. But sometimes the most beautiful things rise from the ashes."

He leans down, his lips brushing my ear. "Are you ready to burn with me?" he asks, his hands sliding down my sides to grip my hips.

I look up at him, at the man who's become everything I never knew I needed. The candlelight flickers across his face, shadows dancing in his eyes, and I know there's no turning back.

"Yes," I breathe, and the word feels like a prayer.

His smile is triumphant as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a length of deep red velvet ribbon. "Take off your coat," he commands, and I obey without hesitation, letting the heavy fabric fall to the floor so I'm only in my thin nightgown and boots. It's cold in here and my nipples go hard in less than a second. His eyes drop to them as his tongue drags along his lip like he's imagining tasting me there.

"What are you doing?"

"You'll see," he says, wrapping the velvet around my wrists and tying it in a pretty bow. My heart races as he guides me to the altar, pushing me onto the polished wood and stretching my arms above my head. "How does that feel?" he asks, his eyes intent on mine. "Is it too tight?"

"No," I whisper, a rush of heat flooding my core as he slides his fingers along the velvet. It's soft against my skin, but the knot is tight. Inescapable. Just like my feelings for my stepfather.

"Good," he says, leaning down to brush a kiss against my forehead. "Tonight, you're my gift, and I intend to take my time unwrapping you." His breath is hot against my skin as he trails a line of kisses down my throat, his tongue darting out to dip into the hollow at the base. "And when I'm done, I'm going to take you right here on the altar."

My breath catches in my throat as he straightens up, his eyes roaming over my body like a starving man faced with a feast. "I've imagined this moment so many times," he murmurs, his hands sliding up my thighs, pushing the hem of my nightgown higher. "But nothing compares to the reality of you laid out for me. So soft, so beautiful, so willing to give me everything."

He pulls a knife from his pocket, the blade glinting in the candlelight. My eyes widen and everything inside me is chaos, like someone shook up all my emotions in a snow globe as he brings the tip to the neckline of my nightgown.

"Look at me," he orders, and I drag my gaze away from the knife to meet his eyes. The silver of his irises seems to glow in the candlelight, the color almost magical. He holds me captive with that gaze as he slowly drags the blade down, splitting the fabric of not only my nightgown but my underwear, too, with a soft tearing sound that reverberates through the empty chapel.

The cold air kisses my newly exposed skin, but it's the heat in Cohen's eyes that makes me shiver. He slides the knife back into his pocket, his gaze never leaving mine as he parts the torn fabric of my nightgown, laying me bare before him. I feel a rush of vulnerability and excitement, my breath coming in short gasps.

"You're trembling," he murmurs, his hands gliding up my sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. "Are you afraid?"

I shake my head, my voice barely a whisper. "No. I'm just... I don't know what to do."

His smile is a slow, wicked curve of the lips. "You don't have to do anything. Just feel. I'm going to teach you, Emerald. I'm going to show you what your body is capable of."