Bound to the void, p.1
Bound to the Void, page 1
Bound to the Void
Keepers of the Crypt Saga, Book 3
Isadora Brown
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Newsletter Information
Did You Like Bound to the Void?
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Granted, I knew this was my decision. I knew I created my current reality based on what I wanted and the choices I had made leading up to this.
But it was still difficult for me to wrap my head around.
I was about to get married. For the rest of my life. I knew marriage was supposed to be till death do us part, but there was always that backup plan of divorce or trial separations. Here, in the Void, there was no such thing, not even through death. I was trapping myself in a web I couldn’t escape from, and even as I regarded my reflection in the bedroom I would soon be calling ours instead of his, I still wasn’t totally sure I wanted this.
Richard was gone. He was the only family I had, after a bunch of shades killed my parents. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Shades shouldn’t have been able to kill them, but they had. And then, they carted Richard off, leaving me alone. Granted, I didn’t think they even noticed me. They weren’t the smartest spirits lingering around this realm and the Void.
I shook my head, turning slightly. The dress Keaton conjured up for me to wear wasn’t exactly what I had in mind as a wedding dress. Then again, it wasn’t like I had been thinking about getting married at all. I had been hellbent on finding Richard, which was how I met Keaton in the first place. Which was how I got myself into this mess.
The more I studied it, though, the more I got used to it. It was much more luxurious than I would have ever picked up for myself. The sleeves were long and lacy, somewhat transparent, with shapes of leaves running up and down my arm. The bodice had jewels stitched into the material - I wouldn’t be surprised if they were real crystal or diamonds or whatever shone under the light like these did. The skirt flared out in wisps, like the shades themselves. On my feet, were matching heels - white silk with a bow made from the same crystal-diamonds on each foot.
Keaton hadn’t touched my face and makeup, probably deciding to let me figure out what to do with it, which was a good idea. I brushed my hair as best as I could with the brush Keaton conjured up for me, and began to pin it up into a bun. I had no idea why I even bothered to look nice. This was a business transaction. Why should I put any effort into my appearance? But it helped focus me. It kept me from crying, from feeling like I was about to lose myself without any hope of getting me back.
It kept me from letting myself succumb to my palpable fear.
When I finished my hair, I did my makeup. I was never good at it since I had better things to focus my time on, but I did what I could. I even wore pink lipstick, which felt like a big deal since I wasn’t a fan of anything but Chapstick.
I tilted my head to the side. The lace came up to my neck. It wasn’t actually ugly. In fact, the more I looked at myself, the more I realized that I was actually pretty.
Stupid.
I shouldn’t be thinking of being pretty when I was throwing my life away.
For Richard! For Richard!
That persistent voice got smaller and smaller as the wedding loomed nearer and nearer, almost like it wasn’t worth it. But every time I thought of that, shame choked me. How could I abandon the only family I had when there was a chance to see him again? At the very least, I’d have some kind of understanding as to what happened with my family.
I shook my head as tears blurred my vision. I blinked them away before they could ruin my makeup.
Do you really care if they ruin your makeup or not? Is that really what we need to focus on?
Fuck. Now I was talking to the voices in my head. I had to get out of here. I had to go through with this before I talked myself out of it.
I turned to the door and walked over to it. My heels clicked on the floor, and each step, it felt like a heartbeat, keeping time as I got closer and closer to my ruin.
I rubbed my lips and reached for the knob. I could still back out of this. Someone might come in and stop this. I almost laughed at the thought. There was no way anyone could stop this from happening. It was going to happen. The only person who could was myself. I knew Keaton wouldn’t force me to marry him, not if I didn’t want to. He’d be pissed, but he wouldn’t force me.
Breath came a little easier.
And…and if he could honor that, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
Yeah, right. This is Keaton we’re talking about. Keaton. Get your head out of the clouds. Your marriage will be awful. He’ll be cruel. You might as well accept that now before you go through with this. There’s no point in kidding yourself only to be disappointed when you realize this isn’t the case.
I dropped my hand to my side.
Shit.
I hated this. Why couldn’t I just be brave? Why couldn’t I make a decision and stick with it? I’d been kicking and screaming this entire time, trying to get out of this in any way I saw fit and yet, still committing, still saying I wanted this.
I needed to do something, or this wasn’t going to work anymore.
“Fuck it,” I said to myself, reaching for the doorknob and twisting it. This time, I turned off my brain. I didn’t want to hear anything. I didn’t want to know what a reckless, thoughtless, stupid mistake I was making. What mattered was, I was making it.
I threw open the door and all but stomped out into the living room. Keaton was in the pinstriped suit I met him in, way back when he was still safely confined to his crypt. He was smoking a cigarette, and judging by the pile of ash on his boot, I doubted even he had lost count of how many he had had. Ambrose was patiently waiting, sitting on the edge of the couch like he didn’t trust himself to let his body touch anything in Keaton’s house. He looked up when he saw me, a flicker of surprise touching his features.
“Wow,” he said, forcing himself to stand. “I wasn’t sure…” He let his voice trail off.
I cleared my throat. “Neither was I,” I admitted. “But I am now, so.” I clapped my hands together. “Let’s get this over with, she’ll we?”
I glanced over at Keaton, waiting for some kind of comment. He was surprisingly silent throughout this, and that couldn’t be a good sign. However, when I rested my eyes on him, he seemed…passive. The look on his face was indiscernible. Another omen if there ever was one.
“Keaton,” Ambrose said, looong over at his brother as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You ready?”
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered. “Get on with it, would ya?”
He flicked the cigarette butt from his fingers and it disappeared before it hit the ground. He adjusted the lapels of his tuxedo jacket and turned away from me.
Ambrose snapped his fingers and a thick book appeared in his hands. He flipped the book open and gently turned each page. He seemed to know exactly what he was looking for, eyes scanning the text carefully. He looked up at me, offering me a gentle smile.
“If you would stand next to my brother and take his hands?” His tone wasn’t commanding but soft and sweet, like I was a child he was attempting to reassure.
I moved my feet over to Keaton. He didn’t offer me his hands, not until I reached for his. The second our skin touched, a spark flared between us. If I was Mattie, with any hint of romantic bone in my body, I might say that was a good sign. Since this was Keaton we were talking about, I didn’t think good signs existed. However, I concentrated on the feel of his hands on mine, the toughness that was somehow coated in silk. His touch affected me more than I cared to admit, and I forced myself to swallow, to try and moisten my throat.
Ambrose opened his mouth, ready to read from the text, when Keaton held up his hand.
“No gimmicks,” he instructed. “We all know what this is. This is purely transactional. That’s it. We don’t need to pretend it’s something that it’s not.”
Ambrose closed his mouth, giving Keaton a look between slitted eyes. “Fine,” he said. He dropped the book and it vanished before it hit the ground. “It’s not like I wanted to officiate my first Breather wedding but fine. We’ll just go through with the vows then.”
“Keaton, do you take your lovely bride -“
“I do,” he snipped.
“You have to at least let me say the vows or else it doesn’t count,” Ambrose said, glaring.
I kept watching the two go back and forth. Even I didn’t understand what Keaton’s problem was. Wasn’t this what he wanted? Wasn’t this what he had been waiting for? So what gave?
“Do you, Keaton, take this living dead girl to be your dearly beloved, to protect, to stand by, to obey, and to forsake all others in honor of this union?”
“I. Do.”
I was honestly surprised he hadn’t started smoking again.
“And do you, Kara Darling, take this heathen to be your dearly beloved, to protect, to stand by, to obey, and to forsake all others in honor of this union?”
I didn’t like the obey part or even the forsake part. Part of it was I didn’t want to be beholden to a husband who might expect particular orders I would never grant anyone else with just because I married him. Then again, the vows were exac tly the same. He had to obey me just as much as I had to obey him.
“I do,” I said.
Now wasn’t the time to back out now.
“Please, present your hands.”
A ring appeared in my hand while another ring appeared in Keaton’s. Both were simple black platinum. Somehow; there was a heaviness to move I didn’t expect.
“Exchange rings,” Ambrose instructed.
Keaton took my hand and slid the cool ring onto my finger next to the ring he had already given me. I forced myself to do the same even though it felt like there was an anchor in my gut. Somehow, this made everything all the more serious.
“Now that the rings are on, you won’t be able to remove them,” Ambrose said. “Turn over one hand to me.”
Keaton offered his brother his hand palm up while keeping hold of mine with his other. Ambrose reached in his pocket and pulled out a small dagger. It looked familiar to me but I couldn’t explain why.
“What is it?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
“You’ve joined in words,” Ambrose said. “And, in a bit, you’ll join in body. But this, right now, is joining in blood. It seals the marriage and binds you together.”
My heart lurched. This sounded much more serious than human marriages.
Ambrose took the dagger and nicked the flesh part of Keaton’s palm. Blood bubbled at the flesh wound, a dark crimson color. During this entire facade, Keaton hadn’t had any other expression on his face besides that annoyed passive one. It was really starting to bother me.
“Kara?”
I blinked and shoved my hand at him. Ambrose did the same to me. I flinched when it pricked me.
“Place your hands together so your blood will bond as your hearts have bonded, as your bodies will bond.”
Keaton lifted his hand. I placed mine against it.
Another spark. Another skipped heartbeat.
“Keaton, you may now seal your bond by kissing your bride. And shall you have love and happiness everlasting.”
Keaton looked at me and leaned forward until our lips touched, completing the ceremony.
I was married. I was married to the most dangerous heathen known in existence and there was no way I could get out of this.
Chapter Two
The kiss was surprisingly gentle. There was no passion, nothing possessive about it. It was nowhere near the kiss from last night. But it wasn’t lifeless or stiff. I wouldn’t go out of my way to call it tender, but it was…nice.
Just as I began to respond, to close my eyes and lean in slightly, another spark formed and I jumped away.
Ambrose looked between us. “I suppose congratulations are in order,” he said. “Just remember, the bindings have started to form, but nothing is official until you seal it with your body. You must consummate the marriage within forty-eight hours. And we’ll know because of the rings.”
“Wait, what?” I looked down at the ring on my finger. It was simple, innocuous, and somehow it could detect whether or not I had had sex.
“I don’t have time for this,” Ambrose muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. “Look, there are a few things you need to know now that you’re married.” He gestured at the couch. “Sit, would you? I want to get through this as quickly as possible so no one can tell me I didn’t do my job and inform you of certain expectations.” He directed the last comment to his brother, who moved to sit next to me. “Ignorance isn’t an excuse. You’ll be penalized if you don’t comply.”
Once Keaton and I were situated, Keaton’s arm around my shoulders in a loose show of possession that I attempted to ease out of but didn’t succeed in doing, Ambrose placed his hands behind his back and began to pace.
“First, the rings,” he said. He didn’t bother looking at us, keeping his gaze in front of him. The words were monotone, as though he was reading from some book. “They have a dark magic infused inside of them, which picks up on the components of the body, whether human or heathen. It keeps track of physical and emotional affection as well as intimate acts such as kissing, touching, and sex. If you happen to get pregnant, there will be a blue sheen to it until you expel the child from your womb.” He glanced over at me.
I gripped the arm of the couch with my hand, sinking my fingernails into the soft material. Pregnant? I had only gotten married. The last thing I wanted to think about was getting pregnant.
From my peripheral, Keaton didn’t even react. His arm was still around my shoulders. He didn’t even tense. What the hell did that mean?
“What I’m saying is, don’t try to bullshit the ring,” he said. “It’s not going to work, and there will be consequences.”
“Wait,” I said. “Keaton is dead. How could he possibly get me pregnant?”
“You fucking care about that?” Keaton asked gruffy.
“I want to know how to prevent such a thing from happening, that’s all,” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. I hated the way my face heated up at his accusation, like he could possibly think I cared enough about him and this marriage to want to get pregnant.
“Pregnancy is required by the third year of marriage,” Ambrose said. “Obviously not something you have to worry about now, but something that needs mentioning nonetheless.” He stopped pacing and gave me a long look. “The truth is, despite Keaton’s life-status, he can still get you pregnant because there’s life in you. You can create it. Which means it’s expected of you.”
“What kind of contraception -”
“That is not allowed,” Ambrose said.
“You just said -”
“It is not allowed.”
“Fucking let her get out her question,” Keaton snarled. “And fucking answer it. She doesn’t want the rule, she wants to understand the rules.”
I looked over at Keaton, surprised he seemed to understand that in such a short time of knowing me. He kept his glare fixed on his brother but his fingertips caressed the lace of the dress. I tried not to notice that I liked it.
“Contraception is taking a drug purposefully designed to prevent the creation of life,” he said. “Down in the Void, where everyone is supposed to be dead, that’s considered blasphemy. Never has a heathen married a breather before, which means that the opportunity to procreate has never occurred within our world. Now, there are occasions when pregnancy does happen down here, but it is extremely rare.”
“You mean, two spirits could have a baby?” I asked. “Would they be considered a breather, or…?”
“No,” Ambrose said, resuming his pacing. “No. A child born of two spirits cannot be alive even if he was born because his parents aren’t alive at the time of conception.”
“Am I alive?” I asked before I could stop myself. “I mean, I’m here. In the Void. But I can also go to my realm…as can Keaton. So…what are we?”
“Keaton, despite now having the capacity to traverse amongst the realms, is dead,” he said. “He will always be dead. There is nothing that will be able to bring him to life, okay? You, on the other hand…you are still very much alive. You are a breather. However, because you are a breather, you are much more vulnerable. This marriage paints a target on your back now. I had hoped Keaton discussed this with you beforehand, but I can see that he hasn’t. Every soul within the Void is going to be drawn to you simply because you’re alive. Now, they won’t know you’re a breather unless you tell them or they figure it out for themselves. There’s a chance you’ll be able to blend in here without any issue. But on the chance someone does discover it -”
“Like the prince?” I asked, interrupting him.
Ambrose pressed his lips together. His eyes carefully studied the floor beneath his shoes. “The prince knowing what you are will most certainly pose some problems,” he said, his voice tentative. “You see, Kara, people will want you because they want your life. They’ll instinctively seek it out. Your soul, once your body declines, will naturally come here. But while you’re alive, others will try to remove it from you and bring it peace, if that makes sense.”
