Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
He flinches as if I struck him. I stand my ground, buzzing with manic energy. Terrified I’m crossing the line with a dangerous man, but absolutely convinced he’d never put a hand on me in anger.
This is my ghost.
Even after everything, I still refuse to think my ghost would ever willingly hurt me.
“I’ll give you the foundation,” he says, voice a hoarse whisper. “I’ll give you money, contacts, assurances. Whatever you want, it’ll be yours. All your dreams. All your hopes. I’ll die to make them happen, feather.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
He ignores the question and comes forward. “You hate what I am. I don’t blame you. I’m broken. I’m twisted. When you look at me, all you can see is hate and darkness. But use me, Bianca. Be the light I can’t ever reach. Do something good with this—” He curls his hands into fists, staring at his fingers.
And I can finally read what they say.
Light on the right hand. Dark on the left, with a small black cross on the thumb.
Light and Dark.
The sick part of all this is I believe him. He says he’ll do anything for me. He says he’ll give me what I want. And I believe he really will.
If I let him.
All I need to do is agree to marry a monster. Agree to marry a killer, a sinner, a beast, a nightmare.
Everything I hate.
My captor and my ghost.
He stole me from Finn. And now I have a choice.
Agree to this marriage or walk away.
I could go back to Grace House. God, I miss it there so much.
Or I could take the risk with him and maybe do something bigger and better.
Imagine how much good I could do…
If I’m willing to give myself over to evil.
“Two conditions,” I say, voice shaking. I don’t even try to hide it.
“Name them.”
I hold up one finger. “You follow through with your promise. You give me whatever I need whenever I ask for it.”
“Done.”
I hold up a second finger. “We have our first dance as a married couple in front of all these people.”
His eyebrows raise in surprise. I suppress my vicious smile. That second condition is just petty and mean—because a first dance is exactly the sort of thing he’d hate.
And judging by the look on his face, I was dead right.
He struggles to control himself as his eyes graze down my body.
And with a sharp nod, he agrees.
“One dance,” he says. “And then you’re mine.”
The crowd murmurs as I’m ushered onto the dance floor. Lucy sticks by my side, protective and concerned. “Are you sure about this?” she whispers, glancing at the faces all around us. Strangers watching a bizarre show. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“I already told Adriano I was going to do it.”
Her jaw ticks as she looks over her shoulder at where her husband stands near their table. “I’ll have a talk with him later.”
“Don’t.” I pat her hand lightly. “It’s okay.”
She has more to say, but the audience parts as Cormac comes striding through them, looking stiff and determined, like he’s marching to his own funeral.
I beam at him, struggling to maintain my composure as my heart races in my chest.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Finn—” The host clears his throat and laughs to cover the gaffe. “I’m sorry, I mean, Mr. and Mrs. Cormac Whelan’s first dance!”
My cheeks burn with awkwardness. The gathered people laugh politely, but I can feel their stares. And suddenly I realize this was such a bad fucking idea.
Until Cormac steps in front of me and puts his hands on my hips.
God, I can smell him. My ghost, right here in my arms, in the flesh. Dark and Light. An evil hell prince. More beautiful than any man has a right to be. Sickening and terrifying, but impossible to deny.
The music starts.
Sugar pie, honey bunch
You know that I love you
I can’t help myself
I love you and nobody else
In and out of my life
You come and you go
Leaving just your picture behind
And I’ve kissed it a thousand times
We start moving together a little awkwardly. The song is too upbeat and we don’t have any practice dancing together. But Cormac has surprisingly good rhythm and I love the way his hands feel on my body.
“Who chose this song?” I ask, laughing at the sheer absurdity.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “Probably Finn. Maybe the wedding planner.”
“It feels kind of… perfect, right?”
His expression darkens and he leans in closer. “Now why would you say that?” he whispers.
“I don’t know.” My heart stutters. I’m reminded again that being with Cormac is like putting my neck in a friendly lion’s mouth. Just because he hasn’t ripped my jugular out yet doesn’t mean he won’t. “I mean, because you’ve been—”
“Whatever you think about me, you’re wrong.” He leans down. His lips are close to mine again. I tilt my chin forward, breathing fast. Lightning burns down my arms and gathers in my core. How does he make me feel this way?