Castello Sonata(also known as “the haunted castle”), which was the East Point, had belonged to Rocco’s ancestor and his wife, Belladonna Conti.
CastelloBurranea(named after the star-shaped flower that grew wild around it), which was where we’d be spending our wedding night, was the West Point.
Even though Rocco hadn’t mentioned it, and I hadn’t asked, I knew Rosaria had spent time atCastello Sul Mare, and when I’d asked in a roundabout way if she had ever spent time atCastello Burranea, he’d told me no. I didn’t want to share our time with her. She’d had her wedding night with him?—
I had to cut the thought off, because whenever I thought about them together, a terrible green monster overtook me, and it was a completely wild one with sharp teeth. Wilder than anything but my—simple term for it—lovefor him.
The driver of the carriage turned the horses around and took the strip of land back to the island.Castello Burraneareminded me ofCastelloDi Sabbiain that way, except it didn’t have a drawbridge, though it was still over the water. It wasn’t atop its own hill.
Spotlights had been placed on all sides of its bulky form, and they lit up the solid cream stone, almost like candlelight would. The land around it was its own private inlet, but I’d noticed beyond the castle some type of cactus grew wild along with theburranea. The wind tugged at my dress and hair, the night air tepid and humid, carrying the scents of the sea.
After Donato greeted Rocco, he nodded to me. “SignoraFausti.”
My cheeks rushed with blood at the new name. “Donato.” I nodded back.
Rocco kept one of my hands in his, the other on my lowerback, as he ushered me inside. I could hear the howling of the wind outside like it was trapped in a tunnel. Fausti soldiers swarmed the place, but an older man with a gentle face that seemed to match his disposition stepped out of the shadows to greet us. He congratulated us on our nuptials before he led us toward our accommodations.
He opened a massive dark-stained wooden door with black iron decorations that led to the king’s quarters of the castle, showcasing it with his hand before he bid us both a good night. Rocco shut the door behind him and locked it.
A trembling breath escaped my lips.
My body couldn’t decide if it was cold or hot.
Hundreds of sweet-smelling candles had been lit. Rose petals had been scattered on the floor and along all surfaces. One lone red rose had been set between the pillows on the massive bed. The headboard of it seemed to crawl up the stone wall in an intricate pattern. The enormity of it was going to swallow Rocco. I knew my feet wouldn’t be able to touch the floor. They’d dangle from the sides when I went to step down.
Rocco’s body passed behind mine in a whisper that sent a rush of his cologne-scented air around me, and my lungs greedily gulped it down. When my eyes found him, they never left him. He was stalking around me. Not like a hunter after its prey, but as a husband would do to his wife. He was taking in every inch of me, like he had never seen a woman before, like this was the first time he was seeing me in the gown I’d wear to become his wife.
His wife.
My eyes closed to the truth of it, and my lips parted, a trembling breath leaving me again.
He wasn’t touching me, but it felt like he was. That was how intense his eyes were. Like a hand would absorb the feel of all different temperatures and textures, his eyes seemed to be absorbing me in a place where he never would forget.
“Tell me,my wife, are you nervous.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“You have been with me before.” His voice had turned from velvet to warm sand, and it was caressing my skin. The tone of it was as warm as the waves of heat radiating from the roaring fireplace in the corner. The stone suite seemed to hold a chill, even in summer.
“I have,” I barely got out. “But this feels different. So different.”
“Tell me why,” he pressed.
“Because…” My hands fisted the delicate lace of the dress to keep the trembling at bay. It wasn’t helping. “Because you are my husband now. The newly crowned king of my heart. I know what this means for me—body, heart, soul officially belong to you,myking.”
He growled low in his throat. He was fighting with himself. He wanted to devour me, but like he insisted with the drawn-out moment in the carriage, this time between us would linger. Devour us both before this night was over.
He came to stand in front of me, and his warmth replaced the warmth of the fire.
Our eyes locked.
Another trembling breath. “I don’t want this night to end,” I whispered. “I don’t want…to move forward, not when now is so, so, so good. It almost makes me sad to think…time will go on, but this moment will stay behind.”
“Amora.” His tone was deep and gruff, his hand coming to the side of my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. “Do not grieve for what will never be lost between us. I vow to you this is only the beginning of whatever this is between us that goes beyond love. It had no true beginning on this earth, and neither shall it have an end here.” He placed my hand over his heart. “It will continue where it first began. Inparadisofor alleternità.” He gently coaxed me forward into his embrace, softly kissing my lips.
My eyes refused to open entirely when the kiss ended. The sides of my eyes felt wet, an overflow of the emotions inside of me demanding to be set free. He led me to the bed, my head woozy,my heart in a daze, like this was all some dream I refused to wake up from. Lifting me up, then placing me down on the soft mattress, he took a knee in front of me. Gently lifting the hem of my dress as if he were respecting every inch of delicate lace, he removed my heels, caressing my ankles, my feet, even my toes before setting each shoe to the side.
He stood, taking a step back, staring at me.
