Unholy Nights: A Dark Christmas Romance by Heather Ashley

Author:Heather Ashley [Ashley, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-12-20T00:00:00+00:00

Rage tastes like blood in my mouth and feels like fire in my veins.

It's a living thing inside me, clawing at my insides, demanding to be set free as I slam my fist into the heavy bag, imagining Madeline's face where my knuckles connect. The impact reverberates through my bones, but the pain does nothing to stop the inferno inside me.

Every tear Emerald shed in her room last night is a debt I intend to collect from her mother. Every cruel word Madeline hurled at her is a promise that I'll repay her ten-fold. A hundred times over. A thousand. I'll tear her down to nothing, strip everything away, and leave her a hollow, broken shell of her former self.

Madeline thinks she can force my little bird back into her cage. Thinks she can bend her to her will. Thinks she can mold her into the docile, submissive daughter who will marry the man of her mother’s choosing and carry on the Delacroix legacy.

She's wrong. So very wrong. She has no idea what she's unleashed.

Because I will never, ever, let that happen. Emerald will never belong to anyone but me. I'll burn down the entire fucking town before I allow that woman to take her from me.

I'm not usually prone to outbursts of emotion, but something about Emerald brings out the worst in me.

The best in me.

My fists fly in a flurry of strikes, sweat beading on my forehead as I throw everything I have at the bag. It's not enough.

The home gym is empty, the sun barely risen, but it's all I've wanted to do since I left Emerald's room. But no matter how hard I strike, how much weight I bench, how many miles I run on the treadmill, it never lessens.

Sweat drips down my bare chest, and my muscles burn, but I don't stop. Can't stop. Not when I don’t know what I’ll do if I stop. Not when I can still hear Madeline's voice in my head, cutting into Emerald like a fucking knife, making her bleed.

"Everything you are belongs to me."

The heavy bag swings wildly, and I keep punching until my knuckles are bruised and raw. Until there's blood spattering the black leather, leaving tiny red constellations across its surface. Until my lungs ache, and my vision blurs.

The physical outlet is the only thing keeping me from storming upstairs and showing Madeline exactly how wrong she is about who owns what in this house.

Because Emerald doesn't belong to her mother. She belongs to me. Has since that first night when I saw her crying on a balcony, face lifted to the stars as tears tracked down her cheeks. Her pain mirrored my own, a kindred spirit that called to something deep in my soul.

It was like the universe had reached out and slapped me in the face, waking me from a long, dark dream.

I didn't know her then, didn't know why she was crying, or what she was running from, but none of that mattered. In that moment, I saw her.

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