A Fifth Daughter [Book 1: The Dragon Rider]

Chapter ~ 16

"Whoa," I say. And even though I'm suddenly smiling and finally feeling happy for her, my brain has yet to catch up with my emotions and still rebels at the thought of that dread aisle waiting to swallow me whole.

"For the love of Flame, stop fretting," Cai berates, "You've got me jumping at every little noise."

I cringe inwardly, "Sorry."

"It's fine, just calm down, okay? It's not like you're about to actually die."

"You're right, but..."

"No, 'buts.' I hate 'buts.' Just walk down that darn aisle, I promise you'll be fine."

The piano is cued and the doors open.

Carter is the first person I see, and I just focus on him and his familiar smile as I force my legs to take that first step, and then the second, and so on.

Cai begins humming, and I nearly trip.

"Hey!"

He cringes. "Sorry, but you're walking really, really slowly. I didn't realize half a wedding is everyone just walking down the aisle."

I have to stop myself from chuckling and keep myself walking forward. "It is an insanely long aisle."

"Well, have you noticed the amount of people in the room?" My breath hitches. "Okay! Never mind. There's no one in the room. It's just you, me, and... well, no one."

I know he's lying. I know how long that guest list is. But he seems to have a way of convincing my panicking brain that everything is fine and that we're completely alone.

The aisle doesn't end fast enough and, remembering the strict rules from Mom, I take my place next to the grey and pink fake-flower arrangement on the bottom step.

Now I can relax and take in my surroundings.

Starting with the altar in front of the pastor and the archway behind him. Both are made of some exotic wood, both have identical intricate designs, and they're covered with light pink drapes. In fact everything is light pink with that underlying shiny dark grey and a fleeting glance of white. It's all seems so pure. The hanging chandelier has white flickering candles, every pew has white-almost-pink flowers stringed to the sides; the tall windows are covered in white tulle.

And then there's me. Standing out like the worst sore thumb there ever was. I'm a black sheep among all of these spotless, white lambs.

Behind me, Tempest has walked down the aisle with Alive behind her, and then a few girls I remember meeting but can't remember the names of. They all take their places directly behind me, all smiling, all wearing pink, all looking like they belong here. I feel dread – not jealousy – uncurl in my gut. I really don't want to be here.

"Smoke, concentrate. You're glaring at your mom."

Yeah, I guess I am. It's like my brain and eyes are on different levels and my eyes know where to place the blame of what my gut dislikes. And my mom happens to be the one in blame.

Averting my gaze and widening my smile to the point my cheeks hurt, I'm just in time for the piano to change songs and for everyone to stand. And then there's Carma, in all her gloriously white beauty, walking down the aisle with a true smile peeling her red lips.

Suddenly my smile is genuine. Somewhere between glaring at Mom and Carma entering the room, a trigger is switched and I'm happy that I'm standing up here. I'm happy that this could someday happen to me. And I'm so Fire-blasted happy that my big sister is getting married.