Page 6 of Gravehouse

So I don’t. I think back to when I took this job, trying to find a crack, a flaw. But every job is flawed. The script never makes sense.

He braids his fingers with mine and my heart trips over itself. Damnit. I didn’t want—Using his forefinger and thumb, he directs my eyes up to his.

Words fail me. His thumb presses against my bottom lip, a gentle swipe that could be a threat or a promise.

“Do you, Asher Thane, take Ivanya Celeste Dubois as your wife?”

Blood drains from my face, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling.

He’s used my legal name. My real fucking name, which means…

My eyes land on the table in the corner, where the marriage licenses are.They’re fucking real.

Oh God. How are they real?

Focus.

I angle into him until his chest brushes my breasts. From the outside, we look like any other couple.

From here?Rage.

“You used my real fucking name?” I say around clenched teeth and a fake smile.

His fingers twist into the back of my hair, holding me in place. “Why not?”

I try to step back—nope, this is too close—but his grip tightens, snapping my attention back to him.

“What’s the matter, Venom?” his brows dip in mock concern. “Don’t wannaplaywith me anymore?”

His words fracture any chance I had of blocking him out.

“You were never a game to me, Ash.” Grief chokes my words as they leave.

I drag a breath in, finally tearing my eyes off him to look past his shoulder. Luce stands near the front in a black dress, her hazel eyes fixed on me, mouth calm, hands locked so tight I see the strain from here. Jord wears that easy grin pinned on for show, his shoulders sitting too high. Leon doesn’t move at all, steady on the outside, one second from ripping this room apart.

“Do you?” The Celebrant’s voice pulls me back to the present.

Like I have a choice.

Asher’s eyes drop to the crushed flowers in my grip, petals and snapped stems scattered across the ground.

I’m missing something. This Asher isn’t the one I left a bullet in. I watched the bullet penetrate, watched him die, then let that regret kill me for a year.

His shadow devours me all at once.

I guess I’m going to have to play. “I do.”

Asher takes my hand, fingers closing around mine hard enough to pin me in place. The world narrows to the space between us, his jaw locked, and eyes cold. My stomach knots into itself. The man I knew is gone, replaced by a brutal stillness of hatred.

He slides the ring over my finger.

Gold catches the light, curving elegant around a ridiculously oversized diamond. Then I see what encases it, and the air leaves my lungs.

A bullet. I don’t have to guess where he got it.

Blue eyes sharpen on me, watching as my attention shifts between him and the ring.

His eyes drag over me a second longer, then he turns back to the celebrant. “Continue.”