Unwittingly, I clasp my hand over Kian’s emerald pendant. I put it on as a show of defiance, someone else’s gift over my heart when I’m marrying another man.
Tears spring into my eyes, the sudden wave of grief coming from nowhere. Back then, I had dreams—love, marriage, growing old and bickering over TV channels.
Hestole them from me.
I grit my teeth and glance up, meeting my soon-to-be husband’s searing gaze.
I promptly lose my breath.
Elias stares at me—dark, rioting emotions clashing in his eyes. There are pain and grief, anger and frustration. He looks hauntingly alone.
But for a moment, a millisecond, I see a flash of something else.
Unbridled joy.
My heart convulses; the sharp pain has me gripping the pendant tighter. It makes no sense. Must be a trick of the daylight. Or my calamitous emotions impacting my vision.
“Lana?” Maxwell’s voice zaps me out of my thoughts.
“Sorry. Let’s do this.”
With the necklace heavy on my chest, I walk up the aisle to the lonely man standing there.
A pulse drums against his temple, his gaze never leaving mine. His attention is a brand, and I feel its invisible burn on my skin.
With every step closer to this monster, the Shadow King, my body comes alive.
The brush of my tweed dress against my skin morphs into a caress.
The scent of wet grass and rain is a love letter to my nose.
The music…my “Für Elise,” becomes a promise whispered into my ear.
He’s my enemy. I hate him.But those words don’t land.
Instead, sultry heat unfurls from deep within me, spreading to my core, my legs, all the way to my fingertips.
Whatever strangeness is happening, it’s clearly impacting Elias as well.
A flush crawls up his neck, those gorgeous eyes becoming impossibly more vibrant and scorching. His fingers curl and unfurl, the power in his tall frame seeming to condense.
Tighter. And tighter.
Like he’s a second away from bursting out of his seams.
I close my eyes when I stand next to him, barely noticing Maxwell wheeling himself away.
I hear nothing other than the thundering of my heart.
My palms sweat and my breathing grows shallow.
The priest says words I don’t understand. I repeat them. Elias does the same.
“Do you take Lana Elise Farrah Anderson to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and to honor her all the days of your life?”
The garden comes back into focus.
Elias stiffens, his throat rippling as he swallows. “I do.”
