Her gray eyes flash as she jerks her chin from my grasp. "Is that what this is? A second chance?"
"For them? Barely." I reach out, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, satisfied when she flinches at my touch. "For you? That depends."
"On what?"
"On how convincing you can be tomorrow night." I let my fingers trail down her cheek, a ghost of the tenderness we once shared. "These are important allies, Keira. People who risked everything to help us. They need to believe this union is solid."
She swallows hard, and I watch the movement of her throat with strange fascination. "What do you expect from me?"
"A smile. Appropriate affection. The appearance of a woman pleased with her engagement." I drop my hand, stepping back because I’m precariously close to losing myself. "Nothing you haven't faked before."
Her brow furrows in confusion for a moment. "And if I refuse?"
“Do I really need to detail all that could happen to those you hold dear?” I keep my tone casual.
Keira's fingers curl into fists at her sides. "You're a monster."
"I think we’ve established that I’m what your family made me. Consider this an opportunity to make amends."
She gives me a nod telling me she’ll behave. But can I trust her? Perhaps she’s giving me a false sense of her submission. I need to make sure she truly recognizes that she has no power here. Any attempts she makes to save her family will be met swiftly and violently.
“One of the staff will help prepare you for the event,” I say.
The anxiety in her eyes deepens, and I feel a rush of satisfaction. "What does that mean? 'Prepare me'?" Her voice has a slight tremor now.
"It means you'll be dressed and presented appropriately as the future wife of an Ifrinn." I reach out, tilting her chin up with my finger. "Don't worry. I want you to look your best when you play your part."
Something flickers in her gray eyes, fear, defiance, I can't quite tell. For a moment, guilt needles at the back of my mind. This is the girl I once thought I'd spend my life with, the one whose laughter used to make my heart race.
But then I remember the flames. The screams. The years of exile and planning.
I drop my hand and step back. “Don't disappoint me, Keira."
13
KEIRA
I’m doing my best to appease Phoenix, but he’s insufferable and infuriating. After he left my room yesterday, I found it difficult to plan a wedding. So now I feel behind today as I arrange for floral deliveries, order champagne, and make the final decision on a dress. I once dreamed I’d wear a custom wedding dress when I walked down the aisle to marry Phoenix. Now it’s an off the rack order that I hope will fit.
"Miss Keira, would you prefer the orchids or lilies for the centerpieces for tonight’s dinner?" Margot, one of our long-time staff members, hovers beside me with sample arrangements.
"The lilies." I don't even look up. What does it matter? This isn't a celebration but a public humiliation.
Margot hesitates. "Are you certain? The orchids were always your favorite."
"That was a different lifetime." I meet her eyes briefly. "Phoenix prefers lilies."
He doesn't. I have no idea what flowers Phoenix likes now. But something in me wants to erase every trace of the girl I was when I loved him.
As evening approaches, I open my closet and stare at the rows of dresses I’ve accumulated over the years. The last formal dinner in this house ended with my brother dead and Jenna, our gardener, taken.
I run my fingers across the fabric of a midnight blue gown, remembering how Ronan was full of himself that night and how my father had been so focused on business deals that he never noticed the danger circling us.
I realize now that it was Phoenix and his brothers. All the troubles we’ve had over the last year were from them. I’d overheard staff whisper that Blaise Ifrinn has infiltrated the family, killed Ronan, and kidnapped Jenna. No, not kidnapped because she’s married to him now. Not an arranged marriage like me. No, this is a love match if the servants have it right.
The Ifrinns have probably planned this takeover since my father killed their parents. I don’t blame them. What my father did was heinous. But I wasn’t a part of it. At least not willingly. Why doesn’t Phoenix understand that?
I select a simple black dress. It’s fitting for an elegant dinner, but also for my situation. I once dreamed of Phoenix every night, hoping he hadn’t died and would come back for me. I imagined our reunion a thousand different ways. In none of those dreams did he look at me with such hatred.
