Silver star mist curled around his body, swallowing him whole. Then he was gone.
My shoulders sagged as the tension drained from me, my breath finally coming free. That had been close. Too close.
A frown creased my brow as the quiet rushed back in. How had he found me? No one should have been able to. Not unless the spell itself had drawn him here.
That was ridiculous.
The God of Fates was off limits.
“Hurry the fuck up,” I snapped at the moon. “I didn’t ask to wait forever.”
I flipped off the sky. My chest felt heavy, tight with the cruel joke the fates had played on me. For one foolish heartbeat, I had believed they might have chosen Abram for me.
Stupid.
“Who are we so angry at?”
His voice came from behind me. I spun around. Horror froze me in place as Abram stood only inches away. My gaze dropped to the ground. He was inside the circle.
No. No, no, no.
Fear crawled up my spine as my eyes traced his boots planted squarely where they should not be. My pulse thundered in my ears as I looked up at him.
He was smiling. Smug. Amused. Like he had no idea he was standing in the middle of my life imploding. I wanted to strangle him for ruining everything.
“Abram.” I yanked my veil up. “Why didn’t you leave?” I snapped.
He gave me a look, slow and unapologetic, his gaze sweeping the grove.
“You really thought I was going to leave you out here to marry a stranger,” he said, “in the middle of these oddly charming woods?”
My hand smacked my forehead. I dragged it down my face and started pacing, muttering under my breath. About fate. About idiots. About how he was going to snap my neck the moment he realized what I had done.
His attention never left me.
“What’s wrong, little weaver?”
I stopped and spun on him, glare sharp and wild.
He smiled.
The wind hit without warning.
It slammed into me hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. Abram lunged forward and caught me. Pain exploded across my chest the instant he touched me. White-hot. Blinding. My lungs seized as a strangled gasp tore free.
Abram cursed, his grip tightening as he staggered, one hand flying to his own chest. The wind vanished as suddenly as it had come. We stood there, frozen, both of us breathing hard. Abram stared at me, his expression no longer amused.
“What the fuck was that?” he asked.
“I told you to leave,” I snapped, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Why do you never listen?”
Tears burned behind my eyes. He was going to be disgusted when he realized he was bound to me. To someone who was everything he never wanted.
“Elowyn,” he said, rubbing his chest. “What just happened?”
“You stepped into my binding circle,” I shot back. “I cast a spell for a husband, and the moon decided to be funny by sending you.”
He stilled.
