Just at that moment, Kaz comes up beside me and pulls me into a hug.
He grins. “Don’t you think you’re too young to get married?”
I glance toward her. “I don’t want your uncle giving what’s mine to someone else.”And I can’t wait any longer to take what’s mine.But I keep the other half of my thought unspoken.
She rolls her eyes, turns her back to me, and walks toward the group of women.
chapter 20
Matleon
I like the arrangement the Mikhailovs have done in their palace’s gathering wing.
The party hall has been transformed into a wedding setting. Crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors, golden drapes framing the windows. Everything is bright. I wouldn’t have a problem with low lighting, but I think my Angel will like it this way.
Guest rooms are on the first floor, where we stayed, and the wedding will take place here on the ground floor. I’m standing at the dais without my best man. Kaz offered to stand beside me, but I declined. It was supposed to be Zo; since he’s not here, there will be no one else. It’s not that Kaz isn’t close to me, but no one could replace Zo. There’s only one man more dear to me than those bound by blood, and that’s Zloban. My best friend, my cousin, my teammate, my companion.
My mom smiles at me from her chair. I return it. She helped me get ready, making sure I look like the prince from Fallen Roast. Ugly guy, but my mom thinks he looks like me. Dad gave me peace of mind with a shake of his head. So, according to Mom, I’m so ridiculously good-looking right now she could cry—proud she managed to give birth to someone this charming. Well, my mother loves me. Can’t complain.
My eyes shift toward the door as the music starts. I have a history of staring at these doors, waiting for her to come through. Three times she’s come straight to me, her sunshine smile lighting up my world. Twice, she came without so much as a glance in my direction. Today, she will come to become mine for life.
The doors open. My heart halts, my breath snags, the world stills, except my mind, which is busy imprinting this moment into my soul. She’s holding her father’s arm, wearing a white dress with fallen shoulders. It clings to her waist and flows down like clouds.
My angel.
In white.
Her father gives her hand to me. I hold it firmly and nod at Uncle Damir with a smile of reassurance: I will always cherish your daughter the way you have. She stands in front of me, I keep my eyes fixed on her. She looks like never before. They’ve done something around her eyes, making the blue even more enchanting. Her peach-colored lips are tinted a shade darker, and a few strands of her red curls brush her cheek beside her ear. She looks so delicate and pure in white.
I want to keep her as she is, perfect and untouchable, like a doll I could frame and keep with me forever. Yet at the same time, I want to strip away this thin layer of paint from her face, slip her out of that white dress, and trace every inch of her body, sculpting her as the ancients sculpted their goddesses, sacred, inviolable, and entirely mine.
The priest clears his throat, his voice echoing slightly through the grand hall. “We are gathered here today to witness the union of Iselyn Mikhailov, daughter of Damir Mikhailov, and Matleon, son of Alessio. Do you, Matleon, take Iselyn to be your lawfully wedded wife, to honor, cherish, and protect her for all the days of your life?”
“I do,” I answer, my eyes locked on her.
“And you, Iselyn, do you take Matleon to be your lawfully wedded husband, to honor, cherish, and stand by him for all the days of your life?”
“I do,” she replies softly, her tone even, her expression carefully neutral.
The priest continues, reciting blessings and promises. Finally, he lifts his hands and declares, “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Matleon, you may now kiss the bride.”
Her expressionless face betrays the slightest flicker of change at the priest’s words. Despite my best efforts to suppress it, a small smirk finds its place at the corner of my lips. She glares at me, fire dancing in her ocean eyes, as my hands cup her face.
“Let me kissmybride, Angel,” I whisper against her lips.
I press my mouth to hers. She tightens her lips, refusing to respond, but I taste the faint sweetness of the strawberry gloss she’s wearing, though I prefer her natural flavor. I pull away slightly, letting my forehead rest against hers, and murmur, “This won’t count.”
Then I leave her face.
Iselyn
The private jets land on Spring Hill’s Airfield. I’ve been here before, when I met Matleon for the first time and decided to marry him, and now, the second time I’m here, I’m married to him.
We leave the next day after our wedding; our wedding night was in my suite, where I slept in my bedroom and Matleonin the guest bedroom. We haven’t spent a single minute close to each other since our wedding, which I secretly appreciate. Matleon didn’t even try to come near me, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s planning to play indifferent now that we’re married.
Avi and Zo are waiting for us on the mansion’s front patio. Avi pulls me into a hug, giggling, “I can’t believe you’ll stay with us from now on!”
I chuckle, then give Zo a hug. “You’re not even looking the slightest bit less handsome in that wheelchair.”
