Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I look at the Brides, and my breath catches in my throat. The Paine brothers have chosen well if they want to make a statement. The Amazon heir. The Mystic heir. The Amazon queen’s youngest brother, and her daughter. The Mystic leader’s newest wife, and his son. Me. And now Eli, and by way of him, our entire faction.
All three factions are well represented, ensuring a forced peace for a year and a day, more than long enough for someone savvy to put down roots and a plan to strike their enemies down once the deadline has passed.
The Herald nods. “Of course.”
Abel hauls Eli to his feet and clamps a big hand on the back of his neck. Eli’s weaving, and his gorgeous face is a mess. He looks half a second from passing out. I take a step toward him, but Abel plants a hand on my neck, too and turns all three of us to face the Herald.
The ritual passes in a blur. I think I’m in shock. This went from a mundane Lammas festival to a nightmare in less than an hour. The Herald’s people move forward in front of each couple and wind their hands with ribbon, reciting words that sound like a buzz in my ears. I stare down at my hands bound to Eli and Abel’s, at theirs bound to each other. I was so close to something resembling freedom. One small step, one year away.
Now, I’m in even deeper than I was before. Eli won’t be able to do anything but fight Abel. It’s his nature. They’ll be so busy going for each other’s throats that neither will consider the people who need protection the most—the members of our faction.
Once the ceremony is finished, Abel turns us and leads our fucked-up little procession out of the amphitheater and through the streets to a trio of trucks waiting for us. He shoves Eli up into the bed of the first one, but when I move to follow, he tightens his grip on the back of my neck. “You’re up front with me.”
Two of his brothers climb behind the wheels of the other trucks, and the rest of them and their Brides pile into the beds. No one says a single damn word. Are they feeling this same shock that I am? Surely at least Monroe, the Amazon heir, will fight this?
But then, she follows the same laws I do.
Abel opens the driver’s door and gives me a light push. “Up.”
“If Eli bleeds out—”
“He’s made of tougher stuff than that. A little beating isn’t enough to kill that bastard.” His tone goes even harder. “In the truck, Harlow.”
I reluctantly climb up and scoot over to make room for him. It’s not enough. Even though Abel isn’t a giant by any definition, he fills the limited space until I’m choking on his presence with every inhale. I want nothing more than to curl in on myself, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear. Instead, I sit straight and stare out the windshield as he turns on the truck and pulls away from the curb. I don’t ask where we’re going. It doesn’t matter.
We’ve lost everything.
“You seem like a good girl who follows the rules.” He speaks low enough that I have to strain to hear him, an edge of a growl in his voice. “You know what comes next.”
It’s not a question, but I answer it all the same. “Consummating the handfasting.” It’s not required under normal circumstances. Handfasting isn’t like marriage. There’s no annulment or divorce. If the couple wants to part ways before the end of it, there’s no harm, no foul.
Brides are different.
Abel takes the west bridge off the island and into our faction’s territory. Of course he would come here. It’s his now. The thought makes my stomach lurch. He doesn’t speak again for several blocks. “You have a problem with that?”
I blink. Is he really asking my permission now? “Would it matter if I did?”
“Answer the question.”
I want to say that I’ll fight him every step of the way, but I’ve consented to this. I chose to stay in Sabine Valley. I chose to be in a relationship with Eli, knowing that it would mean adhering even more strongly to the laws because I’d be in the public eye. I chose to walk down into the sand to take Abel’s hand.
I look out the window. “I’ll do my duty.”
“Duty.” He snorts. “Uh-huh. And what happens when that man of yours starts spitting fire and trying to fall on a sword to protect you from big, bad me?”
I refuse to look at him, refuse to let him see how sick this situation makes me. Eli should have let me go. He didn’t have to like it—I don’t like it—but when you’re the ruler of a faction, sometimes sacrifices have to be made. I was willing to take the hit to protect our people. He should have been willing to do the same.