His face tightened.
“Coward!”
He huffed. “I am. I’m not denying that, Ripley.”
Heat filled my face, anxiety pierced my body, and disgust violated my soul. “Why the hell would you agree to marry me against my will?”
“Because of the enchantments. My cousin has been enchanted twice now. Everyone is constantly terrified. And out of the three of us, I am not planning on standing between you and Fletcher. Even though I love you.”
A grimace overtook my face. “This,” I gestured between us, “is not love. This is a stupid ritual that makes you believe that. Trust me, your love is no comparison to Fletcher’s.”
His straight nose crinkled as his pink eyes darkened. “I am brutally aware.”
“You think Fletcher is the one to be scared of? Well, you should be far more concerned about being alone with me.”
Graff closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, he looked like the gentle Graff I had met in the gardens. “Look, I do not want to anger you. In fact, I want to take you to Fletcher. Ican feel your despair, and I do not wish that feeling upon my wife.”
Up came my hand again, gleaming with lethal magic. “I amnotyour wife.”
“You are,” he gritted out. “And start getting used to it because I’m the only way you can get out of the barrier to see him. So I will call you my wifewheneverI goddamn please.”
Control was slipping away. My pride, my dignity, obliterated to pieces. “Take me to him now.”
“I will. After a meal. Then, I will take you to him.”
I stepped forward. “You do not get an ask!” I willed my magic to release itself. I felt its pressure build at my fingertips, pushing up on my nails, but nothing came out, and I grunted in deep vexation. “You married me without my consent. Take me to Fletcher right now!”
A smirk fled over his lips. He shrugged. “You know my demand.”
I roared as I tried my magic again. This time blue smoke billowed from my fingertips like a tidal wave of poison.
He sent his forward at the same time, lunging toward my release of magic. When his wave crashed against mine, it ricocheted and petered out. Evenwhen I could reach my magic, it couldn’t overtake his. “Careful how you treat your husband. I’m royalty now. I have superior magic to yours. Just like the king and queen do.”
I snarled. “Fine. One meal.”
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Graff led me to his room, and it was nothing short of extravagant. I was struck by the stark contrast between the white pristine walls and the black décor. Intricate moldings were carved from the vaulted ceilings to the immaculate floors while the bedding was a silk black that was folded back for my disinterested eye. Tall windows allowed natural light to spill into the spacious room.
All the furniture was a sleek ebony with smooth curves and sharp angles. A leather armchair satominously in the corner while the lacquered dresser opposed the bed. The dresser was adorned with a collection of silver-framed photographs on the ends and a vase filled with white roses in the center.
In the center of the room was a carefully arranged intimate round table with rose petals scattered over the white tablecloth. A warm glow emanated from lanterns, and floating lights wafted of vanilla as Graff guided me to the table. Even the enchanting atmosphere couldn’t distract me from Graff’s smug expression and meticulously styled bronze-blond hair.
He reached to pull a chair out for me, but I was quick to do it myself. I looked toward the door, waiting for something to happen.
Four white-gloved waiters emerged from the open door, each one balancing a silver tray with synchronized movements. They set the trays down in unison, and before I could blink, they were gone. Reluctantly, I feasted my eyes upon the delicacies left before me. Roasted herbs, seared meat, and freshly baked bread filled the room with their tantalizing aromas. My mouth watered as I realized the last thing I had eaten had been with Fletcher earlier this morning. Each dish was a work of art, plated with precision and purpose.
I subdued the desire to stuff my face when I saw Graff’s expression lighten at my appeased expression.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between the two of us as I continued to gaze at everything that had been brought. My eyes riveted on the small white teacup filled with a familiar sweet scent and blue-tinted liquid. Ocaberry tea. The most concentrated form of ingesting the berry that would make my head loopy with a wild high. I reached my hand out, casually swiping the tea off the table until it shattered on the ground. The only man I would ever trust enough to drink that with was Fletcher.
“Whoops.” I shrugged.
Graff quietly chuckled before he, too, reached over to his teacup and did the same. Without looking back at me for my reaction, he began eating.
After a few bites, he looked to see that I hadn’t picked up my silver fork yet. He put his down and sighed loudly. “What happened to you?”
