Ruthless Heir: Chapter 27

It’s funny, I hadn’t even noticed the old analogue clock until I was told the exact time I would be getting married.

Midnight.

Now, every second ticks by like a clap of thunder, so loud it overpowers the incessant pounding of my own heart.

It’s all I can hear.

Tick. Tock. Your fate is nearly sealed.

“Alright. Open your eyes.”

About half an hour ago, Rozalia showed up in a black van of her own. I saw her from my bedroom window. It was already dark out, and she looked like some Victorian ghost as she hustled a black laced wedding gown towards the front entrance.

She barely even stopped to admire the pile of flesh and guts that was once a man named Luis’ Falcao.

Even now, I can hear the flies buzzing around his mangled body. They will still be swarming while I’m married off to Gabriel.

Opening my eyes, I look over to the eternally clicking clock above the bed.

It’s almost time.

“Come on, now. Take a look at yourself.”

Snapping her fingers by my ear, Rozalia pulls my gaze towards the body mirror Tytus dragged in here earlier.

“I… It’s beautiful,” I sigh.

Fuck. Despite the heaviness weighing down my soul, I can’t deny just how gorgeous the macabre gown is.

The black skirt and train are spotted with countless sparkling silver dots, like stars in a clear night sky. The lace bodice is expertly woven. The silhouette hugs my curves like a shadow.

“Agreed,” Rozalia nods, checking me out in the mirror. “And the black eye definitely adds to the charm.”

Lifting my hand, I trace the swollen mark that was left around my socket after I accidentally fired that stupid rifle.

“I almost killed your friend…” I mumble.

“You aren’t the first, and you definitely won’t be the last,” Rozalia huffs. “I’m sure he deserved it.”

The old clock ticks and another second passes by.

“Have you ever been to one of these weddings?” I ask, nervously.

“Nope. As far as I know, no one has—at least, not in the last two decades. Maybe three. It’s hard to say.”

“Do you know what happens?”

“I suppose the same things that happen in any marriage ceremony,” Rozalia shrugs. “Not that I’m sure what goes on in those either. This will be my first wedding.”

“How exciting,” I note, dryly.

“Oh, perk up, doll face. It’s not so bad. You like Gabriel, don’t you?”

I more than like him, I quietly confess to myself. But that doesn’t make this any easier.

“It’s not about that,” I explain.

“What’s it about then?”

“ Isn’t it obvious?”

“I guess not. Because you’re going to have to tell me.”

“I… I’m about to be given away. Chained to another soul for all eternity.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

A knock at the door turns our attention away from my heavy thoughts.

“Are you ready?”

It’s Tytus.

He’s been with Gabriel helping him prepare for this ceremony just like Rozalia has been helping me.

“Are you ready?” Rozalia asks, her tone hushed.

“I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be.”

The black cat studies me for a moment before nodding.

“Tell the priests were ready!”

“Tell them yourself!” Tytus shouts back. “They’re waiting downstairs with Gabriel. All that’s left is you.”

At my back, I hear the clock strike midnight.

There’s little fanfare. No music plays. No horn trumpets. Only a soft chime twinkles through the otherwise silent room. Then, the monotone ticking starts anew.

“Let’s get going then,” Rozalia says. “But let’s not forget this.”

Circling around me, she grabs hold of my long black veil and gently places it over my head.

“I can barely see through this thing,” I mumble.

“Just follow me. And walk slowly. We don’t want to rip this dress. It was expensive.”

“You bought it for me?” I ask, surprised.

“Well, no. But I did steal it for you. That’s kind of more personal, right?”

I can’t help but giggle.

“Thank you… I guess.”

“No need to thank me, doll. We all benefit from this marriage. I’ll be a queen one day too.”

“Maybe I’ll steal you a nice black gown for your wedding day.”

“I won’t be getting married,” Rozalia assures me, opening the bedroom door. “That’s not really my style.”

“What is your style?”

“I’m more of a black widow.”

“I always pegged you as more of a black cat.”

“Can’t a girl be more than one thing?”

I’m almost starting to feel better as I follow Rozalia through the cabin hallway and down the stairs.

The further we get from the secluded bedroom, the less tense I become. Especially as the smoky scent billowing from the living room slowly greets us.

It smells like eucalyptus and cinnamon. Definitely not what I was expecting.

Maybe this won’t be as dark as I feared.

But that naïve hope is immediately challenged when I turn the corner into the living room.

“Shit.” I mutter, involuntarily.

The scene that greets me is far more medieval than the calming scent suggests.

Black sheets cover every inch of the living room, blocking out the windows and even covering the floor. The only light comes from the dozens of flickering candles strategically placed around the perfectly still priests.

They are by far the most disturbing part of the gothic scene. With their black robes bleeding into the darkness, all I can really see are their pale glowing faces. Those gaunt faces float in a sea of blackness, following me with their sunken eyes.

Smoke from the incense shrouds everything in a thin fog. But there’s nothing to run into. Nothing to stumble over.

Everything has been cleared.

It’s like walking into a nightmarish void.

The dread returns.

“Go stand by the priests,” Rozalia whispers, stopping in her tracks.

But I don’t want to do that. Not alone.

Where is Gabriel?

Before I can ask Rozalia where my groom is, he appears out of the darkness.

Much like the priests, only his sinfully gorgeous face is visible.

Still, that’s enough.

My dark wolf nods at me, his sharp hazel-green eyes shimmering in the candlelight, welcoming me to the darkness. My heart tugs after him.

“Nice of you to show up,” he quietly teases when I arrive at his side, a surprising levity lifting his words.

“I only tried running away once,” I blush. “But Rozalia managed to talk me out of it.”

“I’m glad she did.”

Reaching through the darkness, Gabriel pulls up my dark veil and cups my jaw. The warmth of his skin manages to comfort me again as he trails his thumb towards my swollen eye.

“I probably should have put some makeup on to hide that,” I whisper, not daring to raise my voice.

“No. It will serve as my reminder to punish the one who did that to you.”

“I did it to myself.”

“Then I guess you’re the one I will punish.”

The familiar banter helps ease my nerves even more as one of the priests rings an unseen bell.

In response, Gabriel’s hand slides down my jaw. But before he lets me go, I feel his index finger on my lips.

Hush now, myszko. This will all be over soon.

“Zebralismy sie tu dzisiaj, aby ozywic utracone imperium,” one of the priests starts. His voice is deep and guttural, with every word appearing to come from somewhere far down in his throat. “Wzbudzic zatechla krew. Podbic pryszlosc...”

I try to concentrate on Gabriel. Those hazel-green eyes keep me grounded, even when it sounds like the priest’s voice is beginning to echo around the increasingly vast void surrounding us.

The chanting only becomes more ethereal as it continues. More foreign and unintelligible. It feels like I’m being lifted into the cosmos. I can’t even see my body anymore. I can’t see Gabriel’s either.

For all I know, we could be floating in the endless vastness of space.

A chill skates up my spine from the strange intensity of it all. Then, through the cold, dark emptiness, I feel a warmth.

Gabriel has reached through the darkness below and grabbed my hands. His thick, callous fingers brush over the back of my palms, slowly pulling me back down to earth.

That’s when I realize the priest has stopped talking.

The dark room is completely silent.

No one even seems prepared to take a breath.

Then, Gabriel opens his mouth.

“Czy moge zwracac sie do niej po angielsku?” he asks, looking briefly over at the two pale floating heads.

They both nod.

Gabriel looks back to me.

“I know this hasn’t been easy on you, Bianca” he says, his fingers still brushing against the back of my palm. “But there hasn’t been a single moment during these trials where you’ve failed to surprise me. You’re a special one, myszko. And from the moment I first laid eyes on you, all of those years ago, I knew you were special. You weren’t like the other girls. And you didn’t want to be. At first, it pissed me off—after all, this marriage was always supposed to happen. But how could I steal your heart if you kept it locked so tightly away?”

“Hell, it took me way too long to realize that hating me wasn’t even a personal thing with you. It was a game. Wasn’t it? Know how I know that? Because you’re just like me. Stubborn to the bone. Your classmates followed me through the hall, so what did you do? You made sure you swam against the current, just so you could bump into my shoulder. Just so you could make sure I knew that I didn’t have you fooled. Just so I knew that I might be able to conquer the world, but I’d never win you over. Do you know how that made me feel?

“How?” I gulp, my hands shaking against the unexpected sincerity of Gabriel’s speech.

“It hurt. It hurt me worse than I was willing to admit. And that made me angry. Because, even if I didn’t want to admit it, I had never wanted anything as badly as I wanted you, and the fact that you didn’t just fall in line and hopelessly want me back made me realize that I wasn’t as invincible as I thought I was. You made me mortal, myszko. You made me human. And you know what? That only made you even more special. Because all of a sudden, you weren’t just someone I would kill for. You were someone I could die for. And I’m just fine with that.”

My heart is already in my throat, but that last line is when I feel the first tear fall down my cheek.

“Gabriel,” I whisper, completely blindsided.

“I vow to always put you first,” he continues. “You are my queen. You have my heart. Do I have yours?”

A thousand conflicting thoughts and emotions swirl through my head and my heart. Despite the long buildup to this moment, it still feels like it’s happening so fast.

Still, a single answer rises up over the chaos.

“… Yes,” I choke. “You have my heart.”

Squeezing my hands, Gabriel looks over to the priests and nods.

They return the gesture, and Gabriel momentarily releases me from his grip.

“Lift your hand to your face,” he tells me.

I do as I’m told.

Then Gabriel does the same, mirroring me.

A small gasp escapes my lips when I see what’s suddenly being held between his fingers.

A glimmering diamond ring.

But not just any diamond ring.

I’ve never seen anything like it before.

Two black teardrop diamonds shimmer atop a jagged band of silver and gold.

Reaching out, Gabriel takes my hand, separating my ring finger from the rest. Despite the sharp edges crisscrossing the thorny band, the ring slides on effortlessly.

“Doskonale dopasowanie,” says one of priests.

“A perfect fit,” Gabriel repeats in English.

“What does that mean?” I manage to mutter. “Was this ring made for me?”

“Try and take it off,” Gabriel responds.

“But I don’t want to… It’s so pretty.”

I’m transfixed by the dark beauty of the jewelry. It looks like the candle flames flickering around us have been captured behind the two black diamonds.

“Try and take it off, myszko,” Gabriel repeats. Leading my fingers, he makes me touch the smooth outer layer of the band.

But when I finally tug the ring up my finger, a surprise sharpness digs into my skin, causing me to recoil.

“It… It won’t come off,” I say.

“That’s right,” Gabriel nods. “And it won’t ever come off. Not unless you’re willing to bleed and suffer to get rid of it.”

Twisting my hand, he forces me to take a closer look at the mesmerizing jewelry. Sure enough, I find the silver and gold thorns protruding from beneath the band. They seem to be angled perfectly so that I can hardly feel them… except when the ring is moved.

“You’re mine, now,” Gabriel smirks.

“What about you?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off of the macabre ring. “You don’t get one?”

“No. That’s not part of the ceremony.”

“How will people know that you belong to me, then?”

Once more, Gabriel looks over to the priests, as if asking for permission. They both nod, their thin lips remaining closed.

In the darkness below, I can sense an exchange taking place. Then, Gabriel lifts his hand back up to his glowing face, something new pinched between his thick fingers.

“What is that?” I ask.

It looks like a long silver needle. It’s sharp tip is stained black.

“This is how you’re going to mark me.”

Pressing the silver needle into my palm, he closes my fingers around the shaft. Immediately, I smell the ink.

“I’m going to give you a tattoo?”

“That’s right,” Gabriel nods.

“Where?”

“Anywhere you want.”

Suddenly, the thorny ring around my finger doesn’t feel so tight. I’m being given the power to show ownership over him too.

“On your throat?” I test, unsure of how far I’m actually allowed to go.

“Anywhere,” Gabriel repeats.

“On your face?”

“Yes.”

Lowering my voice, I lean forward so the priests can’t hear.

“On your dick?”

“Yes. Though, that might be a waste of a spot. From now on, no one gets to see my cock but you.”

A warm tingle washes over my skin as I lean back and try to think.

“Maybe I could fill in the carving I made on your arm…” I suggest.

“You could.”

“Or maybe I could tattoo my initial right below your eye, like a tear, so everyone will know who you belong to.”

“I like that idea,” Gabriel smiles, unflinching.

“So do I.”

Whether or not I was seriously considering etching a tattoo on his face doesn’t matter anymore. Suddenly, it’s all I can think about.

What could be more visible than a simple ring of thorns?

A teardrop tattoo. A tear drop in the shape of the letter B, for Bianca. His wife. His queen. His owner.

His equal.

“Then it’s decided,” Gabriel says. Lifting his palm into the air, he’s presented with one of the flickering candles. “Put the tip into the flame.”

“Will it hurt?” I ask.

“No more than your blade did.”

With great caution, I tip the point of the silver needle into the candle’s flame.

At first, nothing happens. Then, slowly, the blackness starts to throb with a red pulse.

“Hurry, myszko. Before you burn yourself.”

Following Gabriel’s advice, I lift the needle from the flame.

The dark wolf crouches down and tilts his head, presenting his chiselled cheek to me.

“Don’t move,” I quietly plead.

My hand trembles ever so slightly as I push the needle towards Gabriel’s rough skin. I can feel the eyes of the priests on me. Same goes for the watchful gazes of Gabriel’s friends.

Somewhere in the darkness behind me, Rozalia and Tytus are watching.

I wonder if this is romantic to them?

Because it sure as hell feels strangely romantic to me.

An involuntary twitch temporarily closes Gabriel’s eye when my hot point touches his skin.

“Quick and hard jabs, Bianca.”

Grinding my teeth, I grit through the nerves and do what needs to be done. Clenching the bottom of the silver needle between my fingers, I start to poke the burning ink into the top part of Gabriel’s hard cheek.

“Good girl,” he grumbles, his eyes remaining closed.

To my surprise, the process doesn’t take nearly as long as when I carved my initial into his forearm. And it feels like I’ve barely even started before my B has taken form.

But I’m not done yet. At least, I’m not ready for this to be over. There’s something addicting about marking your man.

It makes me feel so powerful. So dominant.

“Are we officially married now?” I ask.

Leaning back, I place the black tip of the silver needle into the candle’s flame again.

“Not until after we kiss.”

“Well, I’m not waiting for that. What will my new last name be? I want to add it to your face.”

Squinting his freshly marked cheek, Gabriel stands up straight again.

“Czy mozesk mi podac moje nazwisko, ksiedzu?” he asks, looking towards the priests once more.

They both shake their heads.

“We will figure our surname out later. Let’s finish this. Hand the needle back to the priest.”

A tinge of disappointment follows me as I reluctantly return the instrument.

“Teraz potwierdz zwiazek poculunkiem,” one of the priests says.

“Finally,” Gabriel rumbles.

Before I can ask what was just said, I’m shown.

Palming my face, Gabriel holds me in place and plants the deepest, most spine-tingling kiss I’ve ever felt directly onto my lips.

I sink into him, my disappointment washing away.

Then, I find the strength to kiss him back.

His lips are mine now. His face is mine too. So is his body and his cock… and his heart.

The sound of a ringing bell seeps through the soft darkness of our endless kiss, and Gabriel pulls back.

But he doesn’t let me go. His giant hands stay fastened on my cheeks as he looks me deep in the eyes.

The intensity of his hazel-green glare makes my heart jump.

For all of the uncertainty leading up to this moment, something about it just feels so… right.

“Spelnij swoj oboqiazek, mlody krolu.” The priest’s words sound like a command.

“What did he say?” I ask.

“It’s time to consummate our marriage,” Gabriel tells me. His searing palms press into my cheeks and I feel a raspy breath drift out of my open lips.

I’m ready for him. I need him—even if I know this time won’t be like the others. Because there’s nothing holding my dark wolf back anymore.

“It’s time to do what needs to be done in order to secure our empire.”

Strangely, Gabriel’s words don’t inspire any dread in me, though. Whether or not I’m ready to be a mother doesn’t matter. Tonight, I will be filled with Gabriel’s seed. I will be bred.

And I will enjoy it.

Still, all my heart can focus on is one word.

He said our empire.

It’s done.

We’ve been united into one.

Gabriel is now a king.

And I’m finally a queen.