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He left the kitchen at a run, sped up the stairs to the very top of the turret, and without pausing, launched himself from the roof. He shifted mid-air, unfolding his wings and beating as hard as he could. Without Nisha, he was nothing. He had no future. He ached without her, ached all over like a real physical pain. And his dragon was not happy either. His claws curled and smoke huffed from his nostrils.
He swooped low, beside a meadow, and let out a great blast of fire, scorching a long line of grass. He had to get heat out. Release his frustration somehow.
A murder of crows took to the sky and then shot left out of his way. He arched his neck and released more fire upward.He wanted to be in Cardiff now. Taking Nisha into his arms and away from Rishi. He needed to make her his.
She loves me too, I know she does.
He’d felt that in every touch. Seen it in her eyes, in her smile. And she’d said his name in her sleep as though dreaming of him.
Finally, he spotted the familiar landmarks on the outskirts of the city. He headed for the center, flying dangerously low for full daylight but hardly caring if he was spotted.
Eventually, Sophia Gardens came into view, and with it, a large white marquis and a makeshift aisle surrounded by rows of chairs. People were milling around, and fragrant food was cooking.
The sight both terrified and relieved him. He’d made it. The ceremony hadn’t started.
Spotting a small copse, he landed, shifting into his human form as he did so and hoping a nearby dog walker hadn’t noticed him.
He strode away from the plume of smoke he’d left behind, toward the marquis.
More people were arriving, the women dressed traditionally in saris of all colors and dripping with pretty golden jewelry. An archway of marigolds headed the red-carpeted aisle.
Ivor paused and looked around. Where was she? His heart ached to see her. Having her leave in the early hours of the morning had hurt … a lot.
Hearing male voices, he headed into the marquis.
Rishi.
Dressed in a long-sleeved silky green top that came to his knees and tight white pants, he was speaking to what appeared to be a chef. Just the sight of Rishi in his groom’s robes had Ivor’s hackles rising.
“Hey!” Ivor marched up to him, fists clenched. “You!”
Rishi turned, surprise on his face. “Er … can I help you?”
“Yes, you can. You need to call this wedding off.”
“What? I’ll do no such thing.” Rishi huffed then looked closer at Ivor. “I’ve seen you before … at the bar in town, yesterday.”
“Yes, and you were with a woman, not the woman you are supposed to be marrying today.”
“Supposed to be? I am marrying Nisha, and it’s got nothing to do with you.” He paused and ran his attention down then up Ivor’s body, sneering as he did so. “And it’s got nothing to do with you if I decide to have other women on the side either.”
“It has everything to do with me.” Ivor stepped closer and jabbed his finger at Rishi. “Because she deserves more. She deserves a man like me who will be faithful and always put her first. Love her until the Earth stops spinning and the moon falls from the sky.”
Rishi laughed. “What are you talking about? She doesn’t even know you.” He glared at Ivor. “You are so far from my bride’s type it’s unreal. Now if you excuse me, I have an aisle to get to.” He stepped away.
Ivor took a deep breath. His dragon was baiting him to shift and blast Rishi with fire, but that would do no good. Besides, the marquis would go up like gasoline.
“And you’re not invited.” Rishi held up his hand, middle finger sticking up. “So piss off, loser.”
“I want to kill him,” Ivor muttered.
“Mate, so do I. He’s been a pain in the ass to deal with.” The chef shook his head. “I’ll be glad when today is over.”
Ivor clenched his teeth. What the chef didn’t realize was that Ivor really did want to kill Rishi, it wasn’t just an expression. He was no good for Nisha, and Ivor wanted nothing more than to see him burned to a cinder.
I can’t do that!
But I also can’t let this wedding go ahead.
