Callon quietly mouths the word 'go' to me, but, yet again, I ignore him. All I can do is just stand there, staring at Dorian because...I want him to see me. I want him to grab me, gather me in his arms, and then just take me away to a different place. A place where I can be with him forever.
"Callon, is your intention to anger me? Because if it is, you are succeeding quite well," Dorian seethes, "Remove your hand from me, Callon. Hesitate for even a moment and I'll personally break your fingers one by one."
"Please, pardon me, Master Dorian. I am only doing this for the sake of the wedding," Callon explains himself with a small voice, eyes still trained on me.
With a long sigh, I finally take my leave. As I take a turn in the hall, the sound of Dorian's rising voice and Callon's falling voice greets me. I can only hope that Dorian does not go through with his threat toward Callon. After all, it was my fault that Callon had to cover Dorian's eyes in the first place. If Callon didn't, I'm sure Dorian would have ripped the dress off of me and–...
I press my hands to my heated face, groaning. I'm desperately craving him, even as I'm walking down the halls. It's a shameless type of hunger that has me fantasizing about him fucking me senselessly until I'm a mess. This fantasy has my cheeks and the tips of my ears painted red. The heat on my skin does not relent, but I accept it wholeheartedly. Let me suffer, let me yearn, let me pine for him. For, once he is gone, that is all I'll be able to do and nothing more.
I enter my room, not even bothering to shut the door behind me. My soft bed greets me with warmth as I fall down into it, careful not to let any of the silver dust on my face rub off. However, my caution soon withers away when I let myself drift off to sleep with a dull pain in my stomach and heart.
____
"Miss, Miss! Oh, mighty beasts, give me strength!" A frantic voice brings me out of my sleep. "Please, wake up! Please, you're already late for your entrance! Everyone's waiting for you! Master Dorian is waiting for y–..."
I shoot upward, eyes widening as I scramble to get out of bed. The back of my hand frantically swipes away at the drool that had fallen down my chin. Unfortunately, as I take a look in the mirror, I discover that a bit of drool is the least of my worries.
My hair looks as if I had welcomed birds to nest in it while I was sleeping. The claw that once held my hair in a nice bun is dangling by my shoulder blade. I cringe at the sight of it.
"How could you go from looking like a beauty gifted from the skies above to a gremlin cursed from the land below our feet?" She feverishly mutters this, forcibly pushing me to the mirror, where she takes a brush, quickly and painfully taming my hair. "There's no time to properly arrange your hair again. You'll just have to let it freely flow around you, just make sure not to let it hide your face. Your face must always be in full view or else..."
Her rambling continues on until I'm finally back to looking almost perfect. I'm thankful for the change in appearance though. The perfect bride that had peered back at me earlier was not me. This, this wild, far-from-flawless bride is me, and I'm proud to admit that. I turn to Selene, momentarily gazing at her before pulling her into a tight hug.
"Thank you for everything," I express my gratitude, a smile appearing on my face as I feel her arms hesitantly wrap around me.
"Do not thank me so soon. I still have years to serve you," She replies, oblivious to the pain she has just brought to my heart.
I'm careful not to say anything in response. I know that if I do, all that would come out is a pathetic cry. A cry that I cannot grant myself to let out. For, the moment I do, everything, including me, will fall apart.
I clench my jaw and give her a strained smile, quickly averting my gaze from her warm one. If she had known of what I was planning on doing to Dorian, I doubt she would have smiled so kindly.
My body seems to freeze over as she loops her arm in my own, guiding me out the door and down the now barren halls. Goosebumps cover me. I'm cold, I'm queasy, and I'm dying, or at least, it feels like I am. Each step we take closer to the large doors that will lead me to Dorian is a step closer to the death that will soon stain this land.
Only when I'm alone, standing before those daunting doors, do I hear the sound of the harp beginning to play. I know I must move, but I can't. I don't want to. My hands ball into fists at my sides. Now is not the time to waver because no love is worth my life, not even Dorian's. That is what I foolishly tell myself as I finally push open the doors.
The familiar blinding light greets me, but even after it subsides, I find myself unable to see in the radiant glow of Dorian. He stands beneath the flowery archway in a black suit that is encrusted with silver accents. I only spend a moment's time looking at his attire before spending what seems like forever gazing at his face. His lips are parted, the ghost of what can only be my name leaves them, and his golden eyes are drowning in a sea of tears.
No king-to-be should cry in such a pitiful way in front of all these people, but yet there he is. Crying for me. No queen-to-be should cry in front of the people she's supposed to impress, but here I am. Crying for him.
I stumble when I reach him, yet I don't care. Let these people scorn and judge me all they want. All I care about is the breath-taking man standing before me.
Soon, every bit of my worry about the acceptance from the guests disappears as they rise from their seats. Red eyes focus on Dorian and me before they dip down to the floor as the guests bow to us. My breath catches in my throat when I see this display of devotion from practical strangers.
Their acceptance of me tears at my heart, but I do not let my pain show through as I face Dorian. Instead, I smile and of course, he smiles back. Oh, if only he knew...if only he knew...I wish he knew. He takes my shaking hands in his, softly squeezing them as his lips part.
"As I stand here today, I must admit that you, Cyra, were not the one I had thought would be standing before me today. Despite this, you have brought me more happiness and love than any other in my entire life. I can't imagine any woman at my side besides you. You are the holder of my heart, my eternity, and my very being. I breathe for you, speak for you, and exist for you, my felix culpa. I love you."
A hush has fallen over the guests to make way for my voice to fill the silence. I open my mouth with the rehearsed speech lodged in the back of my throat. They are all waiting, waiting for me to speak, and I will speak but it will not be pure words. It will be sullied words, tainted by the betrayal that has yet to come. Still, I will utter them with every ounce of my being so that Dorian will remember them even in death.
"Dorian, my Dori..." I begin with a voice that trembles pitifully, unlike the powerful voice of Dorian's that had come before me, "I am glad to be standing here with you, and I hope to continue standing by your side, even when we perish. Because, in life, I need you. Your touch, your voice, your presence, all of it is necessary. And in death, I will need you all the same. For eternity and everything beyond, I will love you."
To say such words to the one I will kill is horrible, but I don't care. My lying lips lock with his as a gentle kiss is shared between us. Although I want to deepen the kiss and run my hands all over his body, I allow him to pull away from me. His eyes crinkle slightly as he smiles, then brings my right hand upward. The cold sting of metal slides onto my ring finger.
I take the ring from the servant by my side and place it on Dorian. With these ruby-jeweled rings, we are officially tied to each other. Applause sounds through the hall, startling me. I'm given no time to gather myself as Dorian pulls me toward him. His head dips to the side of my face, lips brushing against my reddening ear.
"Let's dance and give our guests a good show, then..." He whispers to me, breath tickling at my ear, "...when no one's looking, I'll whisk you away so I can settle the aching in my groin."
I bite my lip at the sensation of something hard pressing against my hip. Boy, was Callon right when he said Dorian wouldn't be able to control himself. Not that I'm finding fault in Dorian, as neither can I.
When we dance to appease the eyes of our guests, I press myself up against him, desperate to feel every inch of him. I know that my boldness is making it hard for him to hold onto his crumbling composure.
Every so often, a low grumble will flow down my neck as he rests his head upon my shoulder. He's struggling, and I'm struggling just as badly. We want each other, but we're forcing ourselves to wait, a decision that will most definitely bring plenty of consequences.
Well, those consequences won't exactly be for Dorian but for me. I'll be the one facing his overwhelming hunger at its fullest potential. The idea doesn't scare me, instead it attracts me. It makes me impatient and fearless, to the point where I'm daring Dorian to snap.
I rest my head into the crook of his neck, subtly opening my mouth to nibble at his skin. A hiss of air leaves him as the grip on my hip tightens. Just a bit more and his resolve will disappear. Not even a moment after I bite into him again, I'm abruptly gathered into his arms as he bolts from the overly crowded ballroom.
____
Help me reach more readers and hit that lil star button! ⭐️🫶🏻