Where the Thorned Rose Withers

Had he forgotten? I had nothing on me when he shoved me in there. Food? I could barely draw a breath.

The memory alone sent a sharp pang of agony through me. Why, even in death, did this torment feel so real?

Lena's gentle voice broke the silence. "Killian, maybe you should still check on her."

Killian stroked her hair. "Don't worry. I know exactly what I'm doing. Let her stay in there and reflect. She won't dare to touch you again."

But for me, there would be no next time. I was already dead.

My spirit fractured, weeping in silence.

It happened on our wedding anniversary. I’d spent the afternoon painting a portrait of us. I set it on an easel, waiting for Killian to come home so I could surprise him. But the hours bled into one another, and he never came.

Just as I was about to call him, Lena appeared in the doorway of my studio. She snatched a letter opener from the desk, slashed the canvas to ribbons, and then leveled the point at my forehead, her chin held high.

"You think marrying him makes him yours? Don't be a fool. He's mine."

I had had enough. I shoved her hand away. In a flash, she spun around, slashed her own palm with a blade she'd had concealed, and collapsed to the floor, blood streaming from the wound.

And that, of course, was the precise moment Killian walked in. His gaze fell on me, his face twisting in fury. "Aurora Valerius! You know Lena has a rare blood disorder! Are you trying to kill her? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Lena tugged at Killian’s trouser leg, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. "Killian, please… don't blame Aurora… It was an accident… I'm so sorry. I think… I think I’m dying. Promise me you'll take care of yourself. And be good to her…"

Killian's face was a terrifying mask of rage. He swept Lena into his arms and rushed out to a waiting car, never once glancing back. I stood there, watching them disappear, and felt something deep inside me go still and cold.

That night, Killian dragged me from my bed. Convinced I had tried to murder Lena, he was determined to make me pay. He hauled me toward the underground vault, my struggles useless against his strength.

"Please, don't do this! I'll die in there!"

"You're scared? What about Lena? Did you think about her when you attacked her?"

I was sobbing too hard to speak clearly. "I didn't hurt her! She cut herself! I didn't do it. You have to believe me!"

"So now you're claiming she framed you?" he snarled.

I clung to the heavy steel doorframe, my hands a desperate anchor against the crushing certainty of what was to come.

"I'm pregnant. You can't do this to me!"