The music would only be the seagulls and the rush of the ocean waves coming in and out. In the distance, as we said our vows, the sun would be setting on the skyline, casting brilliant shades of orange and pink across every guest, the dewy warmth of late summer making everyone feel just a littlefreer, just a little more at one with the world around them as we celebrate finding love in a worldfullof hatred.
Whether the person across from me, holding my hands delicately, was a man, a woman, neither or both, those elements always remained the same.
The last one, the one I still can't bear to accept isn't happening, is the glittering presence of Belissenda.
No matter who wasin front ofme, she wasalwayssupposed to be beside me. We were supposed to have conjoined bacheloretteparties because,obviously,we'd be getting married around the same time.
For the last ten years, we'd been planning the rest of our lives,likewe knew from thesecondwe met that our futures were somehow entwined.Ifshewere anyone else, I would havethought instantly thatwe belonged together.
AndI guess, in a sense, we do.
But even from the first time we accidentally stumbled into each other in a nasty bar bathroom, we've been sisters. Connecteddownto our very souls, the fiber of our beings designed side by side in the life before this, knowing we'd find each other when it was time.
And yet...
She's not fucking here.
Instead, I'm surrounded by strangers; the only familiar faces those whose features are vaguely reflected in my own face.
My bridesmaids in their deep blue dresses, the navy and yellow florals surrounding us, coating the world in a picture the furthest from my mind imaginable.
It's not that it's ugly by any means; of course, it isn't. Carmen wouldn't allow her daughter's wedding to be anything but a beautiful spectacle. Even now, she sits on the front row, dabbing at nonexistent tears in her glittering gown that's closer to white than yellow.
Well, it doesn't matter anyway. You can't wear white, can you?
If this wedding was anything more than a sham, she wouldn't be here in the first place, much less making comments during dress shopping about what colors are appropriate.
Anything but white, she told the stylist. Even when he met my eyes with sympathy and disbelief, the most I could conjure was an eye roll. I haven't cared about Carmen's opinion since I was ateenager, but somehow, her words still sting that part of me that wishes my mom was like everyone else's.
Across from me, his face red from the freezing wind, Silas seems as convinced by this charade as I feel, looking at me with an expression that can only be amusement. His black tux stands out against the deep blue ones standing beside him, his bloodshot eyes traveling over my form like he's already considering all the ways he could defile it.
Over my dead fucking body.
If I'm lucky, this scrawny bitch will never even get a chance to get his hands on my body. But here I am, signing up to be his wife and hoping that the half-assed plan I threw together will somehow be enough to keep me safe from his advances.
Over the last few weeks, it's been easy enough to avoid his wandering hands.
Not before the wedding night,my father had told him. Not that anyone was under the impression I was entering into this marriage as a virginal bride. I'm pretty sure I was still dripping with Eamon's cum when I texted Carmen that I was ready to repent and do what God wanted me to do.
If I'mbeinghonest with myself, I wasalwaysgoing to find a way to get here. Once Eamon told me what kind of fate awaited women like me in the family, I knew I couldn't sleep until I found this farmland.I kept the knowledge in the back of my head, waiting for a momentI coulduse it and meetbothEamon's and my goals.
But after Al told me that they'd still been watching Bel, after everything they'd already put her through, there was no stopping me. This is where I was always meant to be. Head to head with a piece of shit who would be only too happy to break me like a prized horse. Something my parents and my past betrotheds had never been able to do. But he's got another thing coming if he thinks I'm as breakable as every other woman he's victimized.
If anything, he should be afraid of me.
And soon enough, he will be.
But, for now, I'll stand, cheeks fucking burning in the frigid cold of this no man's land, my feet squished into these boots as a pastor drones on about the promise of a holy matrimony, of the peace in finding your other half.
I can't bring myself to think of myrealother half. Of the life with him I might never be able to live if my plan doesn't work out perfectly. I never told him as much, but he has to know that he is my reason for existing.
His sweet, loving and soft face flashesin my mind, those bright white straight teeth and boyish grin. This suicide mission might very well be the last thing I do; I can't imagine the Sanctum takes lightly to their own kind turning on them, but if it means he completes the mission he started decades ago, I'll happily die with that.
For the last century, Eamon has set aside his own needs and wants, locking away everythingthat heis to be what others need him to be.
When he finally told me the story of Arthur, everything suddenly made sense.His desperate need to protect the innocent no matter the cost, the drive to cleave the Sanctum's influence from this world... how could I not fight for him the way he's fought for so many others?
If I could close my eyes and imagine this moment differently, there's no doubt he'd be the person standing across from me, his devilish smirk as he looks at me, a grin full of the knowledge of what kind of debauchery we'd get up to the moment he doesn't have an audience.
