Still, it’s a relief to not have to lie, because once I have what I need from him, I would kill him without a second thought if I could think of a creative enough way that would actually stick. It’s very likely that’s exactly what my parents will ask of me.
Philip nods to me to go first.
“I, Harlow Catherine Carrenwell, take you, Henry Asher Havenwood, to be my husband. I promise to be your partner in this life, to stand beside you in joys and sorrows, in your weaknesses and strengths. I vow to hold you in high esteem and bear your burdens along with you.”
Evangeline holds out a jeweled ceremonial blade, and I take it in one hand.
I slide the tip across the inside of my left ring finger. “Let this mark serve as a reminder of my vows. Let my blood serve as a pledge of my faith. When you bleed, I bleed, too.”
I hand the blade back to Evangeline. She dribbles well water over it and wipes it clean.
When I meet Henry’s gaze, something flashes in his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak. “I, Henry Asher Havenwood, take you, Harlow Catherine Carrenwell, to be my wife. I promise to be your partner in this life, to stand beside you in joys and sorrows, in your weaknesses and strengths. I vow to hold you in high esteem and bear your burdens along with you—” He hesitates for a moment, licks his lips, and continues. “I swear to protect you from all who would do you harm, and bring justice to those who have wronged you.”
I try not to react to the change in vows. Protection and vengeance were not originally on the table. He wouldn’t offer those things without a good reason. I stare at him, trying to assess what his angle is and what he thinks this offer will gain him.
What changed between when we chose the vows and now?
It hits me all at once. My scar. He saw my scar and assumes he knows where it came from—that our vengeance is aligned in this one way. I’m suddenly so angry at him for thinking he knows me enough to manipulate me.
Henry draws the blade across the inside of his left ring finger. “Let this mark serve as a reminder of my vows. Let my blood serve as a pledge of my faith. When you bleed, I bleed, too.”
He holds up his palm and I press my bloody hand to his.
“I swear these things under the watchful eye of the Divine and I speak these words freely and of my own volition,” we say in unison.
It’s not true for either of us, but hopefully the Divine don’t notice.
Henry lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses the cut on my finger. The wound tingles and itches. He’s healing it.
His mouth comes away bloody, but he seems wholly unbothered, simply licking the stain from his lips. I stare at him, trying to puzzle out this twist.
If he were smart, he would have chosen those vows to begin with instead of leaving us with this particular inequity. Maybe he feels confident that he’s indestructible. But he hasn’t met my determination. I can be very creative.
I can hear Aidia’s question in my head.What’s the only thing stronger than the foundation of this house?
My will.
I grin at my husband and make a silent vow to myself. If I can’t kill him, I will make him wish he could die.
Philip holds up his hands. “The vows have been accepted and the blessing has been offered. Now seal the ceremony with a kiss.”
Henry dips his head, smiling wickedly.
“You’d let me hurt you?” I whisper.
He leans in so that our lips are just a breath apart. “I’d let you try.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before kissing me.
This is more than just a perfunctory kiss to seal our vows. He tugs my hair to tilt my head back, and his other arm wraps around my waist, pressing me against his body. He kisses me hard, the way he did the night we met. It’s fast and passionate and claiming. It’s a rhythm I know intuitively—like kissing Henry once burned him into my muscle memory forever.
The thought is jarringly incongruent to the way I feel about the feral man I’m supposed to be spying on. It’s inconvenient how much I like kissing him—that it manages to be both novel and familiar.
When he finally pulls away, I’m breathless, my whole body thrumming with pleasure.
The impulse to run is so strong that I take a step away from him. The nearest exit is at the back of the room. Too far away to get to quickly andimpossible to get to discreetly since every eye in the room is locked on me.
It’s just a kiss, Harlow. Get a grip.
