Page 71 of The Devil of Hollywood

Was I sobbing? No.

Were the tears falling for a man who was going to despise me after this? Yes.

I went to wipe the wetness only just realizing I was still clutching the knife. My fingers were white, and my hands were trembling so badly it didn’t look real.

Heading forward, I faced David, not seeing him here, but in the chair. Holding me. Forcing his cock into me even as I screamed and tried to get away. I could still smell his sweat and the garlic on his breath. He’d eaten before he’d come to me all bruised from his own beating. I’d never be able to smell garlic again. Even thinking about it nearly made me gag. I gripped with everything I had, closing the distance as I collapsed to my knees.

Thrusting.

Squeezing me.

Thrusting.

Drip-drip.

Drip.

Blood splashed against the full ball gown. I watched as the material soaked it up while the color seemed to eat away the white. My eyes cut off to the area where his dick had been, and I scanned the space wanting to massacre every inch. I lifted on my knees, stabbing it into the hole I’d made as a place holder. Half-scream-half-sob left him, and I grabbed to his balls while he continued to fight the restraints. David was getting wilder as I tugged down on his sac, and he was trying to move out of my grasp. I stretched him, tightening the loose skin as much as I could. Pulling the knife free, I let the metal split through, keeping the sawing at a torturous pace. I knew nothing but each second. Each slide of my hand as I pushed forward and pulled back. Crimson rained down in a steady stream, and the slower I went, the more I took in pleasure of it leaving him. His life was mine now, staining my special day with a remembrance that would last a lifetime. Bram Whitlock was right. I couldn’t hold back. Not for anything.

Drayton

Even with The Unavowed carving into my chest, I couldn’t take my eyes off Marian. She wielded her knife, drawing blood against those who hurt her, and this crazy forsaken king was making his mark in the most permanent way he could. Did I care? I should have. I didn’t. I couldn’t as I tried studying my wife’s expressions. She wasn’t crying anymore—she was focused. Maybe even determined as she slammed a hatchet over the middle of one of the man’s hands. It was the younger guard with freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks. I knew she was absorbed as she kept hacking to separate the top, but that wasn’t all she was. Anger was starting to leak into her focus. Her swings were getting wilder. Harder.

Wincing, I tried to push back the fire on my chest, but it kept pulling me out of the awe I wanted to slip into.

Wife.

My wife.

Confusion mingled with… lust. It was the last thing I should have felt, but seeing Marian splattered with blood, watching the red color stain more of her wedding gown as she tortured her rapists—I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to finish massacring these pieces of shit and fuck her right on their mutilated corpses.

That wasn’t all I wanted. My own rage over my past was still there, feeding and morphing the sensations. I wanted to hurt her. Not like they did, but I wanted her to feel my pain. Truth was, I may have lost my title, my standing, my family, but I’d never feel the devastation she’d gone through here and at her mother’s hand. My shit was superficial when compared with hers, and I knew it in my very soul.

“What. A. Woman.” The Unavowed bit his bottom lip, shaking his head in just as much amazement as I felt. “I almost had her.” He turned to me. “Her mother almost took my offer. Almost. I thought it was best to start over new. A founding member was what I thought I needed. Then, Melissa pushed Marian towards Bastian Allard. I was pissed; I won’t lie.” A smile began to surface as he took in Marian. “I watched her for years. Not that I saw much. But then more digging and research brought me to Penelope.” A pause as his smile grew. “She was perfect. She was it. The universe gave her to me… for a little while. When I discovered that she went to Marian after her escape, I genuinely laughed. It was a sign that Marian was supposed to play a part in this. I couldn’t ignore the synchronicity. I needed her blood. I thought that blood would be mixed with Bastian Allard’s… but no. I got something better. Another founding member… One who’s line was much older.”

The Unavowed stepped in, and I braced myself as he brought the knife back up, pushing the tip of the blade in deep as he eased his hand down. I bit down hard, trying my best to hold in the yells, but it was impossible with the amount of fire and pain that took over from the wound. And it kept going, curving. Angling. When he finished the letter, I sucked in deep breaths, but he had one more to go before I got a break. “That other member was you. Do you have any idea how perfect this is? How defining the signs are? Drayton… we’re starting a new royal line. Rejoice in this moment. Own it. This is the beginning. Let us make it a memory worth telling stories over.”

For a long moment I couldn’t speak as we held stares. “You’re either right…or you’re fucking insane.”

He laughed, lifting the knife towards me. “I’m both.”

His head tilted and seconds passed as I tried to bear down through the new round of cutting. My fists were clenched as hard as they could, but it wasn’t helping. My yells filled the halls and when my eyes opened, I met Elec’s stare from a few feet away. His face was mostly devoid of emotion. His lids were narrowed. He wasn’t scowling, but he wasn’t relaxed either. I could see a mix of something I wasn’t sure of. Anger? Betrayal? Intrigue?

“Fuck. Could you not find a sharper knife?”

I could barely ask the question. A deep sound left me, and I put all my strength against the restraints to somehow focus on anything but the carving that split my skin.

“If this were easy, it wouldn’t be worth it. You’ll feel this death.” His gaze went up to mine. “You mentioned family. As soon as I finish this, you are reborn. You are…” he waved across my chest,

You are me. I am you. Now, with this and the brand, we are one. Family, just like you said, but more than that. You’re mine, Drayton. They can pretend all we share is a betrothal, but deep down, they know my plans. They even want them.”

The Unavowed brought the knife lower, and I closed my lids, squeezing them through the excruciating tug of metal tearing open my abdomen. It only ignited the cuts over my chest. Just as I was about to roar through the pain, he finished.

Deep breaths left me. More sweat raced down my face and dripped from my hair. The guard across the room waved to Marian, and despite wanting to watch her next move, Elec’s pacing stole my focus. If there was intrigue before, it was gone. Anger. It was all fury as he took me in and whispered to Bram. They went back and forth. Whatever they were speaking over, Elec appeared the one to be fuming while Bram’s demeanor stayed passive.

“Look at your Main Master. He’s working so hard on improving your circle’s bloodlines. He’s pissed I’m getting your heir. That I’m defiling you. Claiming you.” The Unavowed leaned in. “I bet he thinks of you as such a prize. Then, I swept in and stole you away from him. I stole your rights. I made you part of The Order. It’s better than The Gardens, Drayton. We cater to more. He knows that. But… I think it’s more than this place or our roles. Your heir is going to marry mine. I do believe Elec Wexler was hoping to have dibs. Perhaps he should focus on a wife and not what might come of it.”

A grimace left me as sweat made its way into my wounds. The stinging was almost worse than the cutting. It had more sounds leaving me as I tried shifting against the wood. The restraints were tight, and I’d never felt more trapped or at a loss of control.