“Wife,” he calls. “Come. Dance with your husband.”
Footsteps close in behind me and I feel the queen’s breath on my neck.
“You do not wish to embarrass the prince, do you?”
I gulp and shake my head, forcing myself to take a step, but my feet feel like lead, weighed down by this enormous dress and the torturous corset that feels like a suit of armor. I manage another step, then another, but each movement feels heavy and awkward, and I am certain I must look like a clumsy fool in front of the lithe, graceful Fae court.
As the distance between the prince and me narrows, he extends his hand, and my trembling fingers reach out to accept his. His grip is firm and calloused, devoid of any gentleness, and before I can fully process what’s happening, he yanks me into his arms with such force that I stumble, colliding face-first against his chest. It feels like hitting a brick wall.
When I pull back, my gaze travels down the strong column of his throat to the intricate tapestry of black rune tattoos sweeping across his collarbone and around his neck on a leather string is a shimmering moonstone that appears cracked in half.
A low chuckle escapes his mouth. “Not particularly graceful, are we? Though I imagine weddings in the woods are mostly chanting and naked mud dancing around a bonfire.”
I glower, and I’m about to unleash a tirade of insults upon him, when suddenly a duet of violins starts to play and the prince grabs me by the waist while his other tattooed hand wraps around my fingers. He pulls me against him, our bodies pressed so tight I feel his heartbeat and each hard ripple of his abdomen.
With every dark, melodious chord, he moves me back and forth, side to side with such assertiveness that I would be foolish not to follow his lead. Though I feel his gaze, I can not meet his eyes and his every breath is soaked with sweet wine, so strong that I could get drunk just by inhaling. The prince’s fingers curl tighter around my waist, and I gulp when his hips press hard against me.
“Do you not speak?” he mutters in my ear. “Are you so well trained, little Jewel?”
His waves of dark hair brush annoyingly against my cheek and I throw back my head sharply. He jerks, giving me space to breathe.
“I speak very well,” I snap tersely. “When there is someone worth speaking to.”
His eyes widen and a smirk cracks the corner of his mouth. “Are you saying I am not someone worth speaking to?”
I keep the truth I wish to spit at him behind my teeth. “No, Your Highness. I would never.”
His lips straighten into a serious line. “Do not call me that.”
I raise an inquisitive eyebrow. “Then what am I to call you?”
“I’m sure you have plenty of ideas, but Daed will do for now.”
I exhale. “If we are doing introductions, then I am Amara.”
The hard gray of his eyes seems to soften. “I know who you are.”
Whether it’s the intensity of his piercing stare or the overwhelming exhaustion setting in, the faces of the court begin to blur, and the room tilts around me. My vision hazes, and I instinctively reach for Daed’s shoulder to steady myself. Hetightens his grip as I falter in his arms, holding me firmly in place, his presence both a support and a trap, preventing my collapse but offering no comfort.
He glances down at me, his voice flat and impatient. “What’s wrong with you?”.
“I don’t feel well,” I mumble, struggling to keep my eyes open.
“Your hand. You’re still bleeding.” He sighs with annoyance. “Of course you are. You’re human.”
A sudden swell of cheers and laughter blends with the violins, snapping me back to reality. I find myself draped over my husband, my head slumped against his solid chest, his arms braced around my waist to keep me upright. To the court, I must look like a love-struck bride, but in truth, I’m fighting to stay conscious.
King Kaelus throws his head back and laughs loudly. “It seems as if our princess wishes to honor her wedding vows sooner rather than later.”
The court erupts with laughter, and the raucous cackling stings my ears. Just as my knees buckle, Daed sweeps his arm beneath them and scoops me up. I smell the wine on his breath and inhale his salty musk when my head falls on his shoulder.
“Eat and drink until dawn, brethren,” Daed booms. “Your prince must bed his bride.”
The court grows louder, their fervor intensifying as they close in around us, and I wonder how we can push through them all to reach the door. But at that moment Daed’s eyes flash with light and a gust of wind summons giant black wings from his back. After that, everything happens so quickly. He pushes off into the air and we soar straight up with such speed that my body shudders beneath the pressure.
I fight to look up, to see what is above us, and when I sight the solid rock ceiling growing dangerously close, I realize on topof everything else, I’ve married a man just as mad as I have become.
“What are you doing?” I murmur. “You’ll kill us both.”
