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As soon as I open it, a slice of dim light from inside creeping over the porch, the car pulls away.
I’m left alone with my hammering heart, its beat pulsating all the way down to my melting core.
I close the door, pausing only a moment to lean my head against it and breathe.
Shaking, I slip off my shoes, the rubber of the toe pulling away from the fabric, then set them neatly where they were before I left.
Alone in my room, I take a long, lukewarm shower in my tiny ensuite bathroom, wishing our old hot water heater could keep up. My calves ache. I press my palms against the chipped tiles of the shower, stretching my legs and feet out behind me to relieve the pain.
I dress in sweats and a tee, sit on my bed, and dry my hair as best I can with a towel. I stare out the window, over the small balcony off my room, taking in the huge moon that looms over this night.
The very moon that witnessed what happened to me on the road.
What’s this?
A small, blinking red light catches my eye as it floats toward the balcony. I move closer to the window, picking up the whirring sound of a small motor or something. I open the balcony door, a cool breeze chilling my freshly showered skin.
A white and black machine flies my way. A drone, I think? I’ve seen my brothers and their friends messing around with one, a light, plastic model, taking turns flying it in the backyard with a controller.
This one looks more heavy-duty, expensive, as it moves closer and I get a better look. A white parcel hangs down from it, tied by thin ropes. Who’s flying it? I move out onto the balcony, looking down. There’s no one in sight.
I stand in the center of the moonlit balcony, my wet hair lying down my back, the towel draped over my shoulder. The drone hovers above my head, just out of reach. There’s a small, steel claw holding the twine. The claw opens, releasing the ropes. The box drops.
My arms fly out, catching the box as it falls. It’s fairly light in my arms. What could it hold? I stare down at the lid. There’s a note attached. Should I open it?
Curiosity wins out over safety concerns, and I pull back the lid. Nestled in the white paper is a gorgeous pair of pink and gray Brooks Aurora running shoes, something I could never dream of owning. I check the tag beneath the tongue. Six and a half. They’re my size.
They can only be from one person. The man on the road. But I’ve only been home, what? An hour? How could he pull this off? He’s got to be crazy rich with a team of minions at his disposal.
I slide a nail under the edge of the envelope, pulling the creamy cardstock from it.
Next time keepyour runs at the gym, little girl. There are wolves in these woods.
Liam Bachman
GRAB Vow to the King NOW: mybook.to/VowtotheKING
FREE CHAPTER ONE DARK CROWN
Felicity
I’ve dreamedof my wedding day since I was a little girl. I knew I would wear a white dress with long sleeves and a full skirt. I would dance with my father to his favorite song,Figlia Mia: My Daughter,and I would carry a bouquet of deep red roses.
And my groom—my prince charming, my knight in shining armor—I didn’t know who he would be, but I knewwhathe would be. A warm, funny man with a crooked smile and an easy laugh. One that would hold me tight, kiss my forehead, shower me with his love.
A kind man. A gentle man.
Now, as strangers surround me, preparing me for what should be the happiest day of my life, I find myself swallowing back bitter tears. I watch them in the mirror as they curl my dark hair, blush my cheeks, and pin my veil into place, smiling and laughing with one another as they work.
After all, a wedding in the family is a joyous occasion.
I take in my reflection. Other than the flashing terror behind my hazel eyes, I’m the picture perfect bride. They’ve thought of everything, no detail has been overlooked.
He’sthought of everything.
My keeper, my dark king. And by the end of this day, my husband.
I will be his.
