His eyes are so open, so raw, it’s almost unbearable.
I say, “Yes,” and some crazy part of me almost wishes this was real.
The crowd sighs, the nymphs cry, and Zomas howls with delight.
“Alette?” Zomas asks, nodding at me.
Say something. The right thing.“Ashton, I will have you now and forever. You have shown me patience when my heart was uncertain, and you have given me a place where I feel safe. With you, I am not afraid to hope. Will you let me love you in my own way and my own time? Will you remember that as strong as love is, it's also something fragile, and should be treated as such?”
Ashton looks surprised. I am too. “Yes.”
The clearing is full of smiles, gentle looks, and… guilt? My stomach flips and that feeling of wrongness lingers.
Zomas produces the rings. They’re not the battered bits of wire I expected—these are gold, heavy as a promise. He hands them over, and the metal bites cold into my skin.
He has us face each other. Ashton’s hands are shaking, but his eyes are steady. He puts the ring on my finger, slow and careful, like he thinks I might vanish if he moves too fast.
I do the same, and my own hands are worse. The ring nearly slips, but Ashton catches it and steadies me.
Then Zomas slams our hands together and shouts, “Now kiss!”
We exchange a look, but to my surprise, Ashton's gaze moves to my face, then moves to my lips. Despite the strange situation we find ourselves in, heat blossoms between us, and I find that my legs tremble.
It’s supposed to be a joke. We both know it.
But Ashton doesn’t laugh. He lowers his head, and I let him, because the hunger in his eyes matches something I’ve never let myself feel.
His lips are soft at first, just a touch. But then his hands cradle my jaw, and he kisses me for real, and the world goeswhite-hot and spinning. For a moment, the crowd doesn’t exist, the maze doesn’t exist, and I am the center of everything.
When we break apart, I’m dizzy for a new reason. Ashton looks stunned, too, like he can’t believe what just happened.
The nymphs start to sing, voices high and sweet. The satyrs bang on the benches, rattling the whole clearing.
Zomas claps, and the noise doubles.
“Alette and Ashton! Alette and Ashton!” the crowd chants, pounding the syllables out like a sentence.
I can’t stop shaking. Not from fear, but from something else. Something alive.
Above it all, Zomas roars, “They are wed! Let the maze bear witness!”
The world blurs. The faces of the guests melt together, the lanterns spin, and the sky overhead opens like a wound.
I am dizzy, out of breath, and more alive than I have ever been.
I am married. Kind of.
The night howls with celebration as the creatures in the clearing sing and shriek and stomp. When I try to move, hands grab me, twirl me, drag me through a rain of rose petals and shredded silk. The crowd presses so tight it’s like being inside a throat, and I know exactly who’s the swallowed thing.
Ashton’s hand never leaves mine. When I look at him, his face is flushed and wild, eyes sharp, teeth bared in a fake smile that barely hides his unease. When I look away, I can still feel the pressure of his palm, the way he clings like we’re the last two real things in the world.
I’m dizzy. Some of it is the wine, but more of it is the fear.
At one point I lean in, lips almost against his ear, and whisper, “What the fuck do we do now?”
He squeezes my fingers. “We let them have their party. It’s just a game to them. The second we’re out of the clearing, it won’t mean a thing.”
I try to believe him, but something inside me knows this is wrong. A wedding is a wedding. Even when you don’t mean it. Even when it’s a joke. Especially when it’s in the presence of creatures nearly as old as the gods.
