Page 1 of Bound Bride
1
ROSE
"Are you ready?"
The throaty voice rising up from behind me delivering those words is tinged with a note of impatience, and the following sigh only serves to amplify the weighted feeling that somehow I'm the problem here.
If I had a choice, I'd be anywhere else.
Rain lashes against the large window, battering the glass so hard that it trembles slightly within the frame.
Beyond, the large surrounding garden grows dark in color as hundreds of plants, bushes, and trees become weighed down with water.
I know the feeling.
I'm drowning, just like they are.
Each breath I drag past my painted lips is restricted by the overwhelming tightness of the bodice hugging my ribs and waist like a second skin.
This dress is a size too small. I bet it's on purpose. I wouldn't put it past these assholes to try and embarrass me in public on my wedding day just to get an extra kick out of the torture they're putting me through.
My reflection in the glass shimmers and wobbles as rain pours down the window, and for a moment, she's granted the tears I have to swallow down.
I'm getting married today.
And I'd rather die.
Maybe I could.
I could throw myself out this window and into that garden, and then just run until my feet are stained with mud, my wedding dress loses its pearly white hue, and all the perfectly applied curls around the sparkling diamond tiara on my head come spiraling loose.
It would be selfish, but for a few long seconds, it feels like I could do it. I could leave everyone and everything behind and let fate take its course while I go and live my life away from this chaotic fucking mess.
"I said, are you fucking ready?!"
My fantasy shatters as Mathew grabs my upper arm from behind and jerks me away from the window.
Stumbling on my heels, one foot catches on the swirls of silky fabric from my dress and I trip, only for Mathew to grab my other arm as well and shake me violently.
"We don't have time for your fucking daydreaming."
"Ah!" Pain lances through my upper arm as his fingernails bite into the soft skin near my armpit. "I'm sorry, I was just?—"
"I don't give a shit." He drags me across the room to the floor-length mirror on the other side and positions me in front of it, then he stands behind me with his hands on my waist and his chest pressing against my back.
"Look at you." Mathew leans down until his thin, scarred lips press against the swirl of my ear. "You're so fucking beautiful, Rose. Your family must be so proud."
His tongue darts out and catches on the end of my earlobe. I barely contain my recoil.
"If it wasn't for the plan, I'd be the one dragging you down the aisle, and then I'd spend the entire night fucking you until you couldn't walk." His hips thrust against my ass as he groans and despite the boning in my bodice, the tightening of his hands against my waist is unmistakable.
Disgust lances through me like a blade. I lift my chin, narrowing my eyes as I glare at him in the mirror. "I thought you told me to stop daydreaming," I mutter coldly. "There's no way you could keep it up all night long."
"Fucking bitch!" He steps around me, lifting one hand to my throat and gripping so harshly that my tongue bulges slightly in my mouth.
I lift both my hands to his wrist and grip as tightly as I can, but Mathew is stronger than me.
Nothing I can do will make him release me.
