31. hopelessly devoted

31

hopelessly devoted

Lucynda

I twist the diamond ring that Rivian placed on my finger. It really is just as pretty as he promised. It's a white gold band with a pear-shaped diamond but the thing that makes it stand out . . . the diamond is a deep red color causing the ring to look like a single drop of blood.

Rivian's words settle deep in my core, twisting like a knife. Why I let the disappointment take over is a mystery to me because deep down, I knew he'd never love me. No one ever does. But he has to be an idiot if he says he can't feel the connection we have, I know he feels the fire burning between us.

You are wanted, Lucynda.

Fuck, I let him in to my mind and now he won't leave. Great.

The priest finishes up whatever the hell he has to say. I can feel hundreds of eyes staring at me as I probably look like I just saw a ghost. I hate that he’s making me feel sadness while going through this wedding. He could have said literally anything else but he had to choose the one thing that would sting the most.

Cyn, you have to understand…

Rivian's words seem to fade in my head. I'm pushing him out. I don't have to understand shit. I'm about to give this man my virginity, and I just vowed into marriage, and he has the balls to tell me he won't even try to love me because it'll break me. What the hell does that even mean?

His cryptic one-way bullshit is really starting to piss me off. I've put in a lot of effort to make sure I did everything right for him. Since the day in the dungeon when I caught him feeding from that girl, all I've wanted was to make his pain go away and help him control his blood lust. I feel like I did a decent job at that. I guess I still had hope that I could find love in all of this chaos. But love isn't born in chaos, it's born in light and sunshine and blue skies and pretty songs of forever. I have none of those things. The thunder in the background causes the priest to stutter over his words, driving my point home.

I see the glint of silver from the corner of my eye, looking to see the priest now has a chalice in his hands.

The chalice.

Rivian is looking at me with dismay in his eyes, but I also feel a slight hint of something neurotic which causes shivers to cover my flesh.

The pastor says a few more things that I can't seem to focus on under the hard stare of my husband and again, his voice fills my head.

Where do you want me to bite you, little one?

The question hits me like a ton of bricks. I knew this was coming. But I was so lost in my mind of knowing I can't have what I want, that I forgot this was next.

The pastor holds out the chalice. I feel the tension light the air like the lightning that shines through the stained-glass windows as it breaks the night sky.

I hesitate, feeling completely overwhelmed by this next part. I thought I was ready for this, but my instinct tells me that if I continue, then something bad will happen later down that line.

Hey, I'm here.

Rivian whispers in my mind, his distorted words sink to the place I need them the most, feeling like I could rise panic in a matter of moments.

The ceremony is almost over, little one. It's just you and me.

I want to roll my eyes, but my nerves don't allow me to show those emotions. Feeling overwhelmed, I lean into the anxiety that plagues me.

Don't call me little one. Or any nicknames.

I feed him my unspoken words as I try to fight off the way my vision blurs and my head gets dizzy.

Why not?

I can sense that he's annoyed, or worried, or maybe a combination of the two.

Because it will break me.

I fire back his own words at him, feeling proud for standing up for myself but pissed that I'm in this position anyways.

"Miss Claire." I hear murmurs amongst the seated guests as the priest holds out the chalice for me. I'm so close to having a panic attack, which is something I haven't experienced in a while but I feel like my chest is caving in and my breathing starts to quicken.

Lucynda.

Rivian's voice feathers its way into my mind, attempting to calm the panic from rising too high and using his deep, soothing tone to bring me back down to normal.

Just bite me.

I tell him. I want to get this over with.

Where, baby?

His words give me chills. The good kind. But I don’t have any more time to think about his name or where I want his teeth.

Anywhere.

This moment feels frozen in time, but I know we're rushing to get this over with, if only to avoid the public seeing their future queen having a mental breakdown. That's not the first impression I want to give.

Rivian steps forward, brushes his knuckles against my skin, grazing my scar first and then moving them down to my lips.

"I've got you," he says to me out loud this time, but a whisper so soft I know only I can hear it.

He leans down slowly, his breath skating across my skin before he reaches the crook of my neck. He pushes my hair over my shoulder and nestles in right below my ear lobe, and I focus on the way his proximity makes me feel. Hot. Excited. Secure.

He wraps his hand around the other side of my neck and holds me still, he can likely feel me shaking from how nervous I am. But I have to be strong. I need to stop getting in my own head simply because a man told me he can't love me. I can do this.

I reach out and grab Rivian by his waist, pulling him and letting my head fall back to one side for him.

"Bite me like you hate me," I whisper to him, and I swear I hear him growl before he breaks skin.

I can't see them, but I hear everyone stand as their king sucks on my neck, tasting the blood he's drawn.

I don't hate you. You want me to hate you. You want me to hate you because it'll be easier for you to hate me. But what you feel for me is far from hate, little one. And what I feel for you is dangerous. You are fucking dangerous. But just remember, you are my wife now. That won't be lost on me.

Rivian's silent words creep reassurance into my head as he takes a little taste from the blood he just promised for the Society. I can feel their heated gazes on me as I listen to the things he's telling me, the words digging into the tight spaces of my mind, feeding me false hope. He's trying to make me feel better about the fact that he refuses to love me.

He removes his mouth from my skin, I feel an ache already starting to arise, and then he steps back from me and grabs the chalice, holding it up to my wounds.

I still hold onto him, though there's space between us now as he allows my blood flow to drip into the silver cup. We hold eye contact. It's intense and I wonder if our guests can see just how fucking weak he makes me. How weak I know I make him despite his words. I see some of my blood coat his lips and wetness gathers between my thighs as the cup slowly fills with my blood.

I can smell you.

He tells me silently, and I can't tell if he's talking about the metallic scent or the scent of my arousal. Either way, I feel my knees wobble when I see the lust swirling in his eyes.

How can he not love me? I give him everything he asks for. I've done everything he’s wanted and more.

Rivian removes the chalice, assuming he's got what he needs, and moves to bite his own wrist, stretching his arm out to allow the sleeve of his shirt to ride up a bit but I decide to make a move and reach out to help him do it.

I remove the cufflinks holding his sleeve in place and roll the fabric upward making sure he feels every drag of my finger as I do so. I remember he said that vampires have overly sensitive senses, and I want him to feel what I do to him so instinctually because if I have to suffer, so does he.

Once the sleeve is tucked up enough for him, I take the chalice from his hand and wait for him to break his own skin.

He leans down, keeping eye contact with me—his eyes are dark again with those little fascinating swirls of smoke swimming in them—and I hate to say that this is the first time I've really noticed the change in his teeth. I don't know how I never noticed them before, I guess when he's biting me I can't really see the change. But his canine teeth seem to turn into pointed fangs before leaning in to bite his own skin.

In what world did I ever think that seeing a vampire bite his own flesh was a turn on? Because right now I wouldn't care if he stripped me bare and took my virginity in front of all these people. I'm enthralled.

He fills the rest of the cup up rather quickly, our blood coalescing, and before I know it, the pastor grabs the chalice, holds it up and says something in Latin, and then he urges us to kiss.

My brain feels fuzzy. I don't know what's happening, but the room starts to spin, everything goes blurry and the last thing I hear before I faint is Rivian calling out my name.

My head hurts. My neck hurts.

I blink my eyes but they feel too heavy to open. So I leave them shut for a few seconds longer before I push myself up and look around.

The room is black. And I don't mean black from darkness, I mean the decor is just black. Black with silver accents and little hints of dark gray throughout. The design looks nearly similar to my room, just darker.

That's when it hits me that this isn't my room. What happened?

I sit up straighter, seeing that I'm still in my dress as I feel my body for any signs of injury.

I feel the strain in my neck, so I bring my fingers up to touch the cramp and that's when I realize there's still blood.

"Rivian!" I scream. Rivian enters in through what I assume to be the bathroom door.

"I'm right here." He walks calmly toward me and all I can seem to think about is how I ended up in this room.

"Where am I?" I ask.

"You're in my room." He reaches the side of the bed where he opens his palm to me, two little orange pills lay in the center and his other hand holds a glass of water.

"Your room?" I look between his open palm and his eyes, feeling nervous for some reason.

"You fainted. I think the sight of too much blood got to you. But Natasha is coming with a heated rag for your head, and you need to take the Aspirin." He pushes his hand toward me and I feel the ache in my head, so I don't hesitate a second longer.

I take the pills and pop them into my mouth and before I can grab the glass of water from Rivian, he tips it to my mouth for me.

"Open," he directs me, and I listen.

He slowly tips the water into my mouth allowing me to drink at my own pace. Every gulp of the fresh liquid that pours down my throat surprisingly cools the pain in my neck.

I pull away as he sets the glass down. But when he turns to look at me, he notices a little droplet of water escaping the corner of my mouth and he uses his thumb to clean it up, brushing the pad of his finger against my bottom lip in the process.

"Why am I in your room, Rivian? I didn't think I was allowed in here," I ask him.

"Who gave you that impression?" He walks over to the window and pulls the curtains open. The moonlight shines into his room creating an ethereal effect that makes the silver accents shimmer in the light.

"You did." I shift on his bed, feeling a little mousy just knowing that I'm touching something that is his—that I'm on his bed and in his private space. But it isn't lost on me that I also feel the heat building in my core at the thought.

I watch as he stands by the window and peers outside. I wonder what he's thinking. I hate that I can't read his mind like he can mine.

"You can just ask me what I'm thinking, Lucynda." Rivian doesn't even turn to look at me as he violates my head.

I want to rip into him, because I call bullshit. Why is he being so nice? But I'm feeling high tension because of the situation and part of me comes to my senses with the realization that he's probably only trying to help me right now. Though I'm still mad at his words earlier.

"Come in," Rivian says and I have to whip my head to the right to see who he's inviting in, not having heard anyone knock at the door.

It's Natasha and she’s carrying a small rag that puts off steam, a basket filled with things I can't see from here, and what looks like folded clothes. She sets everything down on the nightstand next to me before looking up at me and giving me a warm smile.

"You looked beautiful up there tonight," she tells me and something nostalgic slithers its way under my skin. I never knew my grandparents, but if I had a grandma, I imagine her to be like Natasha. She's welcoming, and charming, and she cares about those around her.

I give her a polite smile back when Rivian finally turns back around.

"Thank you, Natasha," he says to her with his own polite smile.

I hardly see Rivian give a sincere or genuine smile. It's always laced with some kind of danger and mystery. But the smile he gives her warms me and paints him in another new light.

"Please inform Zharus that I am to be unbothered for the rest of the night and see to it that we are uninterrupted please. Thank you." He nods his head at her and she simply nods back before leaving the room, clicking the door shut behind her.

I try not to think about us being uninterrupted for the night, because I know what he means by that. So I think to ask him a question that might distract me instead. "Who's Zharus?"

"He's my Factotum. He was the one who stood by me at the ceremony." I can hardly remember what he looks like at this point; things seem a little fuzzy after I supposedly fainted.

“What’s a Factotum?” I move my mouth slowly, making sure I got the word right.

“Just a fancy title for someone's assistant, essentially,” he answers, still keeping his distance. “Since you were not born a Royal, one was not assigned to you but you will be appointed one soon.” The idea that I would have an assistant doesn’t sit right with me.

I already view Natasha as the essence of that, seeing as she does nearly everything for me already and I like her. And what if I don’t like who they appoint to me?

I don't ask much more about the subject, my nerves proving to be racing all over the place as I can't seem to focus on one thing.

"What's all this?" I ask as I watch Rivian walk around the bed to the nightstand.

He grabs the small rag that seems to be rolled up and then leans onto the bed. He places one palm on the back of my head and simply moves me down until my head touches the pillow. I don't even make a sound, I just let him do whatever it is he's doing because suddenly, the things I'm feeling are too much for me to grasp and I like the way his hand feels against my skull.

"I need to make sure you're up for this. Our night isn't done, Cyn." Rivian then unravels the rag slightly and I can see more steam waving around in the air. He then lowers the white cloth to my forehead and presses it gently.

I suddenly feel relief from my headache, closing my eyes and enjoying the way the heated rag takes away the pain I'd been suffering from.

He makes it seem like the rest of my life, me giving him my virginity and whatever else we might be up to, is a chore. At least that’s what it sounds like. That makes me nervous a bit, but I relax into the warmth of the rag as it soothes the pain away.

"I know what I told you was not what you wanted to hear, but you have to trust me when I tell you that you don't want my love. You don't want to commit to me like that because I'll only disappoint you. And I care about you too much to let you go down a hopeless road." His voice is thick as he tries to explain himself. And I do hear him, but his words only register as excuses

Though I don’t miss the part where he says he does care about me, as if his actions weren’t enough.

I don't open my eyes or respond. I just allow myself to breathe in and breathe out, feigning calmness. But really, I can feel my heart shake a little, disappointment rattling it a bit. Something I should be used to by now but with Rivian, it just hurts differently and I don't know why.

I can feel the tension thicken. "I feel it you know," I whisper as his fingers move around to gently massage my scalp. "The tether. Either that or I'm just a stupid girl for believing that there is something as torturous as a tether. Because what's the point if you're going to deny me of the experience, force an excuse onto me as to why you can’t love?" I know how pathetic it sounds, but I'm done holding back my truth. If he can tell me whatever the fuck he wants, why can't I?

"You're far from stupid, Cyn." This time I do open my eyes, and I push his hand away from me as I sit up.

"Then what am I? Because you can't possibly tell me that all of this is for the Society. You're hiding something. Something that is bigger than this stupid wedding and something that you don't want me to know. What is it? Because you can't look me in my eyes and tell me that you don't feel this, Rivian. I know you do." I reach out to grab his hand and I put it to my chest, right over my pounding heart. "But you can't keep pushing and pulling, giving and taking. Taking more than you give."

He dips his head to try and hide what's happening to him but he's right . . . I'm not stupid. He told me that a vampire’s eyes change when they sense blood, needing to fulfill the thirst. But I know that his eyes reflect the hunger he has for me in general. When he feels or sees something that he desires so badly even though he knows he shouldn't indulge.

I want to be the subject of all his desires. I want to be the only girl he drinks from, the only girl who has the pleasure of knowing what his lips feel like against their skin. I want him to be greedy for my attention. I want the Rivian who stalked me for his own pleasure and couldn't get enough of me. I crave more of the shadow that haunted me at night.

"Lucynda…" I can hear the agony in his voice. His tone has gone husky and dry, like he can't breathe. I hope he’s just read everything I projected, though I intended to keep those thoughts to myself. I hope he sees how crazy he is for denying me.

"I don't care that you have some secret you want to keep hidden. Whatever it is, we can get through it. I won't bother you about it. Whatever you want. I've given you everything you want already. Why can't you let me have this?" I've resorted to asking him to love me. Asking him to let him feel the tether he worked so hard to fulfill.

I'm here. This is it. I'm his wife. Lucynda Duquesne . Yet still, I feel like the helpless little girl who was neglected by those who should have loved me.

Then it hits me. They never really did love me; I know that much is true. And if that's true and here I sit, a newly married woman but still feeling so utterly alone, then what does that say about me as a person?

But then I remember that Rivian has done so much for me, so much to free me from those darknesses and he might not love me, but he saved me. He’s truly cared for me far more than anyone else I’ve let into my life. Yet, he continues to deny us of experiencing what I know we both desire. His false cover of power and revenge don't hold a light to what I know he feels for me; what I am truly insane for having developed for him.

"Is it too much to ask of you to let yourself give in? Feel this with me, Rivian." My heart thuds against his palm, my hand firmly holding it in place.

"If I give in, you have no idea what that means for me. What it means for you." His words are yet again more cryptic bullshit that I don't have the brainpower to decipher right now. Instead, I choose to ignore his meaningless jargon and do the one thing I know he can't deny me of.

"Please," I beg, pressing his hand deeper into my skin, yearning for him to feel what he's trying so hard to avoid.

I told myself that I'd be okay if I had to live in a loveless marriage. But all that changed when I walked down the aisle and decided that I fucking deserve to get everything I want in life. I remembered the girl I was when I stood at my father's grave and promised myself that no one would take advantage of me ever again. So why give in to Rivian? Because he's tall, dark, murderous, and handsome? Because he can control my mind? I don't want to be an outsider forever, queen or not. It's the feeling of being alone that plagues me with fear and shame. I don't want revenge or power or people to bow down before me. I want love. I want soul crushing, brain washing, and ruinous romantic love.

"Don't be like them. Give us a chance, Rivian. Let me be your queen, your wife. Let me show you love." I reach my other hand out to his chest, settling my open palm over the place where his heart should be beating.

But I don't feel anything. It feels empty, like a hollow space carved out of a shell of a person, but I know he has a heart. I know he didn't stalk me in the shadows of his deepest desires for no reason. I know he feels something.

Then, I feel a slight pulse vibrate through to me. Rivian's eyes find mine and I can tell my heartbeat starts to race faster against its confines as I feel the small signs of life gently surge in his chest.

Suddenly, his whole demeanor changes as he pushes me back on the bed and crowds over me, boxing me in with his hands pressed into the pillows on either side of my head. Our hands are no longer on each other's bodies, my breathing turns violently excited yet still gripped with frustration.

He leans in. His eyes are viciously territorial and his smoky scent overwhelms me as he brings his lips close to mine.

"I can't give you what you want, Lucynda, but I can give you everything else." His voice is fervent, his tone is throaty and tormented. "I crave you. Every fucking ounce of your body, mind, and soul, I covet. I can't stop thinking about you.” He moves his hand to my throat, wrapping his fingers around me gently yet threateningly all in the same breath

“You devour me with your frost-bite eyes and you tease me with the way your siren-song sings my name. All of my energy has been depleted on simply fucking wanting you.” He squeezes, his lips now touching my own.

“But I am not welcomed to the luxury of relishing in the superficial things in life. My darkness seems to outshine yours and I will provide your sweet, innocent heart with nothing but cataclysmic ruin. So no, my sweet sin, I can't love you.” His grip on my throat tightens, air evading my lungs yet arousal gathers between my thighs as he lowers his words to a whisper, feathering over my skin like dark promise. “But don't you ever think for a fucking second that you aren't wanted. I brought your ass here, and with me you will fucking stay. You are mine ."

Rivian crushes his lips against mine, a moan rips from my soul as his mouth covers mine and he forces his tongue inside. It's rough and sloppy and makes my insides tingle but it feels so fucking right.

I let my hands roam over his body, every inch of him is unsafe from my fingers. Scratching, pulling, digging. I need to feel him.

He reaches down with one of his hands and finds his way under my dress. A little trail of lightning is left in his wake as he tickles his fingertips against my skin toward my upper thigh. I tense, because the feeling is so dangerously good.

"Rivian," I whimper his name before his teeth nip at my bottom lip.

"You're a fucking nightmare you know that? A nightmare that I can't wake up from," he whispers into my mouth, and I moan.

"It's a good thing you seem to love the dark," I say back to him and before I can reach back up for his mouth, he's pushing himself up away from me.

"What are you-"

"Up!" he demands and I don't waste a second. I'm up off the bed and to my feet in no time. Rivian grabs me by my hips and spins me around. I gasp as he forces me to bend over, my mind racing at what he's planning to do.

"You are the one thing I can't deny myself," he says as he trails his fingers along my backside. I feel a breeze hit the back of my thighs and I know it's because he's lifted up my dress. "You have such a fucking grip on my soul that it burns, Lucynda. I've never felt fire like the flames that burn for you."

It's on the tip of my tongue to ask him again . . . why can't you love me then? But I keep my mouth shut knowing that I don't want anything to ruin this moment.

Rivian grabs hold of my hair and twists it in his hand before yanking me back upright, spinning me to face him again.

"You're right, Lucynda. You have given me nearly everything I asked for." His voice is less urgent and harsh now. His timbre is a bit softer.

"Are you ready to give me just one more thing?"