Deviant Hearts: Chapter 11

Sweet merciful crap. Everything hurts.

I groan, wincing at the blades of pain that slice through my skull. I blink, and when I still see darkness, panic starts to grab me. I jolt bolt upright. That only brings on a fresh crash of pain stabbing through my head and nausea roiling in my stomach.

Jesus, what the fuck happened to me?

But then, as I sit there in the dark, it all comes rushing horribly back. The club. The drinks—all the drinks, ever, in the history of the world. The dancing. And then…

Oh, shit.

My stomach heaves as I remember throwing the drink in Ares’ face and then puking all over his shoes. I groan, panicking as I glance side to side, only now realizing I’m in a bed.

His bed.

My heart lurches as I turn my head, suddenly realizing there’s a warm body lying next to me.

Oh my God.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m shoving him away and scrambling from the bed even as I’m trying not to puke.

“Get the fuck away from—OW!” I howl in pain as I slide from the bed and immediately bang my shin on the bedside table.

“Neve!”

I whip my gaze up to the sound of my sister’s voice. I blink, and slowly, as my eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, I realize it’s not Ares in bed with me. It’s Eilish.

“Hang on.”

I hear her rustling. Then suddenly, warm light floods the huge bedroom as she flicks a switch on her side of the massive bed. I wince, looking away and groaning as my eyes adjust yet again. I blink, slowly getting my bearings.

Yes, I’m in Ares’ bedroom. And when I glance at the walls, I realize why I couldn’t see shit in here. He’s got those track-mounted blackout shades over the entire huge wall of windows.

I groan as the stabbing sensation slices into my head again. I’m not completely sober yet. But, I’m far, far more sober than I was earlier. Gingerly, I raise my head to cast a sheepish look at my sister.

“Hey.”

She gives me a sympathetic look. “Hey yourself. How’re you feeling?”

“Like absolute shit.”

She makes a face as she jumps from the bed with an ease that is enviable to me in my current state.

“Hang on.”

She darts into the ensuite bathroom, where I hear her rustling around. A minute later, she emerges with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin.

“Oh Jesus, gimme gimme,” I groan thankfully as she pops three pills into my palm and hands me the glass. I swallow them down, followed by the rest of the glass of water.

“Little better?”

I wince, nodding as I lie back down on the bed.

“I will be in a bit. Thank you.”

Eilish curls up next to me, face-to-face, like we used to do when we were kids under the blanket fort.

“Is he here?”

She shakes her head. “No. Callie is, though. On the couch in the living room.”

“What time is it?”

“Not actually that late. We went out super early. It’s only two in the morning.”

I make a face. “So…tonight kinda got away from me.”

She grins. “Yeah, a little. But you had fun.”

“Did I?”

She giggles. “Oh trust me, you did.”

Crap. “I didn’t do anything completely embarrassing, did I?”

She winces.

“I mean aside from puking all over Ares’ shoes.”

Eilish shrugs. “Not really. Well, except you kind of yelled at Castle.”

I groan, making a note to apologize to him in the morning. “Great.”

“I think he’ll understand, Neve. You needed to vent.”

I close my eyes, nodding as I let my cheek sink into the pillow.

“I wish I could do this for you, you know,” Eilish murmurs quietly.

“No, you don’t, trust me,” I sigh. “But I love you for saying so.”

“Well…” she grins impishly. “I mean, at least he’s handsome?”

“Yeah, at least there’s that.”

“Nervous about tomorrow?”

“No.”

Yes. And I hate that I am, given that it’s not even a real wedding.

Eilish bites her lip. “Can I…”

“What?”

“Can I see it?”

I grin. It’s so Eilish that she wants to see the dress, even after this disaster of a night, even fully knowing that tomorrow is all just an act.

“Yeah,” I smile. “Sure.”

With the self-control of a monk, she casually slips from the bed instead of leaping out of it like I know she wants to. She pads into the enormous walk-in changing room and closet attached to Ares’ bedroom, and comes back out with a huge white garment bag.

The two of us bought it three days ago. It took all of nine minutes, because it’s the second dress I tried on. The only reason I didn’t pick the first is that Eilish pleaded with me to try this second one, and I gave in.

I haven’t looked at it since.

Neve hangs the bag on the back of the bathroom door. She unzips it slowly and reverently, letting the light from the bedside table glow on the white gown inside.

Okay, dammit. I’ll admit it.

It’s one gorgeous dress.

“You’re going to look so beautiful tomorrow.”

“I’m going to look so fucking hungover tomorrow.”

She grins at me as she zips the garment bag back up. “Let’s get some sleep, then.”

I make a pit stop in the bathroom to quickly rinse off in the shower and brush my teeth. Then, I slide into bed with my sister and close my eyes, listening as her breathing turns heavy and she falls back asleep next to me.

Sleep doesn’t come for me, though. Not for a while, at least. Instead, I lie there staring up at the ceiling, thinking about tomorrow.

About my life.

About Ares.

He is not going to control me like some sort of fucking trophy wife or puppet. If he thinks he is, he’s about to rue the day he agreed to this.

Oh God, I feel like death.

I’ve kept the smile plastered on my face on for my family, and even for his family. I posed for a picture with Dimitra, Ares’ grandmother, who rattled off a bunch of what seemed like nice things to me, though who knows, because it was all literally Greek to me.

I even managed to mumble a heartfelt apology to Castle for going all psycho on him. Luckily, he tells me it’s all good and then messes up my hair. Bastard.

I’ve kept it together throughout the whole morning gong show of going to the Drakos mansion, where the wedding is being held, sitting through hair and makeup, all of that.

But now that I’m alone—just me and the dress in one of the guest rooms—I can feel the energy draining out of me.

Sitting in a robe, I turn to scowl at the white garment bag hanging by the window. Beyond it, I can see the admittedly gorgeous white wedding pergola festooned with about a billion white roses out in the garden.

Fuck, this is really happening.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Yeah?”

The door opens, jolting me. But it’s the man who steps through it that has my insides clenching and my heart twisting into knot.

I glare.

“You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding.”

“I’m not supposed to see you in the dress before the wedding.”

I shiver as his eyes slide over the short silk robe I’m wearing.

He clears his throat, and for the first time since he walked in, I realize he’s in a tuxedo.

Fuck. He looks way too good in a tuxedo.

“I apologize if I was harsh last night. It wasn’t that you went out—”

“Yeah, controlling much?”

He gives me a withering look.

“It’s that both of our families have a lot of enemies out there, none of whom are too pleased that we’re joining forces. I didn’t mean to be a dick, I was genuinely worried. It put me a little on edge. I’m sorry.”

I nod at his curiously heart-felt apology.

“Thank you. I’m sorry for the whiskey in your face. And…”

He nods. “And?”

I clear my throat. “And I’m sorry for puking on your shoes.”

“Thank you. But no, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.”

He chuckles quietly.

“So, are you ready to do this?”

“Not really.”

“Should I be wearing rubber boots?”

I smile thinly as I give him the finger.

“Hilarious.”

“Treat this seriously, Neve.”

“I will seriously consider that.”

He glares at me. “Again, the appearances of this matter.”

“Oh my God, I couldn’t agree more,” I gush. “You’re so right, Ares. And I think the appearance we should be giving off is chaste and wholesome. So, I think we should convert that home office of yours into a second bedroom for me.”

He smiles thinly.

“You know, in ancient Greece, men would often get their wives through the spoils of war—conquering them and fucking them for the first time on the very battlefield where their kin had just been slain.”

“And in old Celtic culture, women would geld the men who tried to lay hands on them without their permission.” I flash him a winning smile. “Just food for thought.”

Ares’ jaw grinds.

“When you’re married to me, you’ll be mine. And believe me, when I have you…” I shiver as he moves closer, that woodsy clean scent of his igniting little pockets of heat in me. “I won’t need to force you, wife.”

I swallow, not trusting myself to respond.

“Well.” Ares straightens and turns for the door. “See you soon.”

The rest of it is a blurry haze of mumbled vows. An orthodox priest rattles things off in both English and Greek, and then the words tumble out that will seal my fate and join me forever to the dark, brooding, gorgeous but grim man standing before me.

“You may kiss the bride.”

My mouth tightens, lips pursing as Ares begins to lower his head to mine. I see the glint of steel in his eyes, and I shiver as he suddenly cups my face firmly. He drags his thumb over my bottom lip, all the while stabbing that lethal gaze of his into my eyes.

And it does something to me.

I flinch. Barely, and just for a moment. But it’s just enough, and my defenses fall for half a second.

It’s all he needs.

Instantly, his mouth crushes to mine in the most fierce, vicious, and punishing kiss of my entire life as he kisses the absolute fuck out of me. This isn’t a polite “you may kiss the bride” kiss. This is a “holy shit” type kiss.

My mind goes blank, and I swear I see stars.

Then it’s over.

We’re man and wife.

Forever.