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I remember a whirlwind of intense emotions. The way my voice faltered as he started to undress me. The way my need to be touched by him grew with every second that passed, the way arousal and apprehension warred with each other, whipping my body into a state of incandescence.
The way his assertion of dominance and pushing my boundaries both exhilarated and terrified me.
The feel of his mouth on my skin, the waves of pleasure he sent through my whole body, the effect his commanding words had on my body and mind…
The anticipation of what our vows would signify.
I swallow hard and blink, trying to bring myself back to the present.
There’s a priest holding a book. A woman with an elegant silver up-do nearby. His mother? His brothers that I met yesterday and a younger man beside them with his arm in a sling and a bandage on his face. That must be the one I haven’t met yet.
I move toward Aleks as if propelled forward by an invisible force. I stand in front of him, my heart beating so fast it feels like the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings in my chest. He leans toward me, a hint of a smile on his lips, as he reaches for my hand.
Is he going to be nice to me, then?
“You could look a little less like you’re heading to a funeral,” he whispers.
That would be a no.
I give him a forced smile back. “Honestly, my thong is up my ass, so don’t take it personally. I like to think it’s…symbolic.”
He stifles a snort as the priest begins the ceremony.
“Why are you staring at me?” I whisper. “Are you really afraid I’ll run now?”
“I have to ensure you don’t get a case of cold feet. But I promise you, Princess. If you were to run now, I’d derive immense satisfaction in the chase.”
I swallow. “Why chase? Do you want me that badly?”
He leans closer. To anyone else, it would look like an intimate whisper of words between two lovers.
We know better.
“Every game has its end, Harper. And Ialwaysplay for keeps.”
The priest drones on and on, but I don’t hear a word until it comes time for my vows. I nod and agree and so does Aleks. There’s nothing the least bit romantic in taking vows to a man you don’t know, much less love.
But when he takes my hand and slides a ring on my finger, something in me softens.
When the priest tells us we can kiss, I lift my face to his.
It starts almost tentatively, like two people stepping foot onto a frozen pond, unsure if it can hold their weight. Under the gaze of strangers and enemies and the expectant eyes of those around us, the soft meeting of his lips and mine carries the weight of what lies between us.
Like every interaction between us, it’s charged with an electric pulse. His fingers on my chin burn my skin. There’s a reverence and tenderness to the way he touches me I didn’t even know he was capable of.
For a moment, I forget that anyone but the two of us is here. This isn’t just a kiss, but maybe a silent truce, a new path forged by each of our pasts and our future. A whisper of something so much more.
As our lips part amid the hoots and hollers and cheers of the crowd around us, I stand a bit stunned. But I don’t have time to reflect on any of this as he takes me by the hand and marches me down the makeshift aisle in the middle of his — our? — living room and toward the dining room.
My family appears out of nowhere, my mother’s disapproving frown beside my father’s cruel smile. He thinks he won.
“You look beautiful,” my mother says. “But remember your loyalty.”
Aleks’s gaze darkens. “She’ll remember who she’s loyal to.”
The coloring of my father’s face tells me he got that message loud and clear.
“Look at you, all dolled up like royalty. You play the part of a blushing bride well.”
