My gaze travelled to the altar ahead and when my eyes fell on the priest, nothing about his somber stillness and tired grey eyes eased my misery. Of course, he wouldn’t care. He was justa messenger of God, nothing but a passive instrument of the covenant and faith.
Shifting my gaze from him, I looked around in search of anyone, anything to save me from this. But there was nothing. The crucifix looming over me suddenly seemed to be mocking me.
You would think coming to a church was a pathway to redemption, happiness, and freedom, but here I was, in a place I had been taught to seek salvation, about to be shackled down in a sham of matrimony to a man who definitely wasn’t the son of God.
“Please,” I whispered, my voice barely audible enough for me to hear. “D-don’t do this.”
We were just a few steps away from the altar, and the weight of what was about to unfold settled on my legs like a chain, pulling me back, each step growing heavier and heavier.
“Zaghan, please.” I forcefully halted, and when he gently turned his head enough for me to catch a fraction of his face, I shook my head frantically, hoping for once, he could hold my desire over his selfish one.
To my surprise, his hand on my wrist actually dropped. And I didn’t hesitate to retract it to my side. My body trembled, my heart racing as I offered a silent boon that this wasn’t another hope he would offer me just to watch me crumble in despair when he would crush it with his bare hands.
“Fine,” he said, his voice smooth as he turned fully to face me, his hands falling inside his pockets. “Go.”
What?
My heart soared, and a cry of victory sat at the forefront of my chest. But perhaps I was a little more foolish than I thought, forgetting this was Zaghan. With him, there was really nothing such as a choice. Even what looked like a choice would alwayslead you back to him, trap you in a web you would not be able to escape from.
I heard the sudden sounds of multiple footsteps behind me, an indication that more of the audience had just walked in.
Slowly, I turned just a fraction, and saw a scene that caused an invisible glass to shatter around me. It felt like my soul left, leaving only my body without bones as I stumbled backward, lips trembling, eyes burning before a tear escaped, the warm liquid trailing down my cheek.
“K-Kenzo,” I stuttered. The people that walked in were two soldiers and Kenzo. One of them had a gun pressed against Kenzo’s temple, the poor boy trembling in his shoes as fear and terror warred for dominance in his eyes.
“W-what are you doing?” I turned to Zaghan. “What’s going on?”
“If you step out of this room, you’ll never see even my shadow again, Elizabeth,” he swore. “But of course, that’ll be at the cost of your little friend’s life.”
“What?” Horror wove into that single word.
“So, what’s it gonna be?” He took a step closer to me, his fingers grabbing my trembling chin. “This marriage that you detest so much, or the life of your…” He trailed off, his eyes shifting slowly to Kenzo, a malicious smile lifting the curve of his lips. “…soulmate, am I right?”
A vein feathered along his jaw, as his gaze returned to me, dark like a starless night.
He used Kenzo because he knew exactly where to strike. He knew as desperate as I was to be freed from this captivity, I would never let him die. But in a rare instance where I actually chose my freedom over my best friend’s life, it still didn’t matter.
Because he’d read my diary, killed all my ex lovers whose names I’d written down. He saw all the things about Kenzo I buried in my heart long ago, the years I loved him for untilI realised he could never love me like that. It didn’t matter to Zaghan that Kenzo was not into girls and would never be interested in me romantically. It didn’t matter because Zaghan was a jealous man, and If I had once looked at Kenzo with love, with the desire to belong to him, that automatically made Kenzo a threat.
Zaghan’s mission never changed. It had always been to erase anything that stood between him and owning me completely.
He got me. He got me so good. And in the end, he won. Because Zaghan always won.
Was there even time to bargain or think? I would never weigh my freedom with Kenzo’s life. Because what was freedom, really? If he let me go, I would return to Mother. And Mother already staked a claim on me long ago. I would never truly be free. Because my life had never really been mine.
There was no need to protest. I clutched tightly onto a fistful of my plaid skirt as if that could harness some magical wind to whisk me away from here.
Wiping the tears on my cheek with the back of my palm, I placed my hand on his.
At the altar, before the priest where we stood facing each other, I could feel his gaze on me, not a single word uttered, but his dark eyes spoke of vindictive and wicked things, the cruel and irredeemable things he would do if I dared to change my mind.
The priest was saying something, but most of his words were a blur, each sentence being drowned out by the roaring of my rapidly racing thoughts.
“Do you, Beth Fraser, take this man, Callan Raskov, as your lawfully wedded husband?”
What?
Callan?
