After I Died They Found Out Their Lives Were Stolen

Iris's POV

I burn through eighty years of my life raising three dogs that turn around and tear into me.

My husband, Damian, used to be an outcast covered in festering sores, cursed to fear the sun. I cut my wrist and gave up thirty years of my life so he could become the most powerful man among the bloodlines, in control of half the world's wealth. Cold and ruthless to everyone else, he only ever bares his fangs for me.

Knox, the boy I grew up with, was born with a genetic flaw that kept him from ever shifting. I gave up another twenty years so he could have the strongest bloodline of all. Wild and reckless, he used to swear he'd carry me on his back for the rest of his life.

Julian, my brother, got burned beyond recognition saving me from a fire. I spent my last thirty years giving him back a face people would pay a fortune for. He used to send crates of his paintings to my room, the kind of work people would kill to own.

Then a woman named Daphne shows up, and all three of them lose their minds over her.

And somehow I become the jealous, vicious wife everyone wants gone.

She cries that I pushed her, so they drive blades of blood straight through my bones.

She says I'm cruel to the staff, so they break my legs in front of a crowd.

And when I'm dying, they drain my blood to keep her alive.

If you're all going to treat the life I gave you like trash, then I'm taking it back. The strength, the face, the life. All of it.

[God, I take it back. I want everything I gave them returned to me.]

"Damian... easy, that hurts..."

Daphne's voice drifts out from behind the half-open door, sweet and breathless.

I'm leaning against the doorframe of the top floor of Ashgrove Tower, blood from my stomach soaking into my dress and dripping onto the carpet.

Through the gap in the door, I watch the man who once swore he'd love me for eternity. He's down on one knee, cradling Daphne's finger like it's something precious, even though she's barely broken the skin, his face soft with concern.

An hour ago, his security guards threw me down a flight of stairs, because Daphne called him crying, claiming I'd shoved her.

Funny thing is, I never even got close enough to touch her.

That's Damian. Head of the First House now, the man who runs half the world's economy.

And my husband.

He wasn't always like this. I close my eyes, and I'm back in that damp, dark basement ten years ago.

Back then, Damian was cursed by his own bloodline, terrified of sunlight, his whole body covered in sores. Like a rat that had crawled out of the gutter.

It was me. I went to the altar and cut open my wrist, gave up a full thirty years of my life to break that curse for him.

God took my youth and my vitality, and in exchange gave Damian the ability to walk in daylight, gave him a strength nothing could touch.

He held me under the morning sun once, crying into my neck. "Iris, you gave me this life. From now on, if anyone ever hurts you, I'll tear them apart."

Now he's the one about to tear me apart, for another woman.

I swallow the blood rising in my throat and shove the heavy door open.

It slams against the wall, and the sound makes them both jump. Daphne flinches like a spooked animal and buries herself against Damian's chest, her eyes welling up instantly.

"Iris... please don't be mad, I swear I didn't mean to ruin the tie you gave Damian... please don't hurt me..."

Damian spins around, and his eyes, usually so dark and warm, flash blood red the second they land on me.

"Iris, you've got some nerve, showing up in front of Daphne." His voice comes out cold as ice.

I ignore Daphne's pathetic act and pull a scroll from inside my coat, one corner stained dark with blood.

It's the contract. The one that bound us together for life.

"Damian, I want out." My voice comes out wrecked, barely my own. "Sign it. After this, we're done. For good."

His pupils contract, and a cruel smile spreads across his mouth.

"Out of the contract? Still playing hard to get?" He starts walking toward me. "You think waving that thing around is gonna make me forgive what you did to Daphne?"

"I didn't push her." I say it flat, no emotion.

"Still gonna lie to my face?"

Damian raises his hand and closes his fist.

Two blades of blood snap into existence and punch straight through my shoulder.

I bite down hard, choking back the scream, but the pain still drops me to my knees.

Blood pours out, soaking through my white dress.

"Damian, stop, Iris is bleeding so much..." Daphne covers her eyes from behind him, the picture of horror, but the corner of her mouth keeps curling up.

"She's a vicious woman. A little blood is nothing." Damian stares at me, cold, and twists his fingers.

The blades inside my shoulder sprout barbs and tear through the flesh.

The pain is so bad I'm drenched in cold sweat, my vision going black around the edges.

"Iris, you've always been tough, haven't you?" Damian walks up and tips my chin up with the toe of his shoe, his eyes bright with cruel satisfaction. "Want out of the contract? Fine.

"Crawl over to Daphne and beg her forgiveness. Keep going until she's happy, and I'll be generous enough to let you walk away."