Page 121 of Secrets of Avalon

My heart races as Hawke leads me to the table. He deliberately positions himself between me and Darkwood. I catch a glimpse of Darkwood's face–cold and calculating.

Kellan takes up a position behind my chair as usual.

Servants bring in trays of food, their footsteps and the scrape of platters on the table the only sounds in the suffocating silence. The aroma of freshly baked bread and spiced meats would normally make my mouth water, but anxiety has made my stomach turn. I’m not the only one. No one touches a plate.

King Theon clears his throat and fixes his gaze on Destrien. "I believe it's time for some explanations." He turns to Destrien, his expression hardening. "Son, you have much to answer for. Explain yourself."

I glance at Destrien, struck by his resemblance to Hawke. But where Hawke's face usually holds warmth and kindness, Destrien's features are sharp with arrogance. A smirk plays at the corners of his mouth, and a surge of disgust rushes through me from Hawke.

"Explain what, exactly, Father?" Destrien's voice drips with condescension. "My marriage? Falling in love? Securing myself a future while my brother was off cavorting with the rebels?"

Destrien's accusation slices through the air, sharp and venomous. I force a steady breath, willing my racing heart to slow. The heat of anger rises to my cheeks. How dare he twist Hawke's sacrifices into something so petty and self-serving?

My fingers tighten on Hawke's arm. I glance at him, searching his face for a reaction. His jaw is clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek, but his eyes and composure remains steady. And so I make sure mine does as well.

The king's face, however, hardens and I'm grateful his anger isn't directed at me. "You married in secret. You aligned yourself with those who sought to hurt this family. And you dare speak against your brother, against your next king?"

Vencia leans forward, her eyes glittering with a cunning that makes me instinctively recoil. "Your Majesty, if I may-"

"You may not." Hawke’s voice is like ice. I've never heard him speak with such coldness, and it startles me. "You have no voice here, Vencia. Nor do you," he adds, glaring at Darkwood.

Julius Darkwood merely smiles, a gesture so chilling that I have to suppress a shudder. “I am here to make peace, Prince Stormblood. Nothing more.” He shrugs his shoulders. “The council is no more. Lunaris is my home. Vandimoor is our capital. I am a loyal Fae. You will be my king.”

Deceitful prick.

Hawke scoffs and looks away.

Kellan steps closer to my chair, and the tension in the room ratchets up another notch. I half expect violence to erupt at any moment.

"Brother," Destrien's voice is mockingly conciliatory, making my teeth clench. "Surely you can see the advantages of my actions. With this alliance, we only strengthen our family in-"

"Enough!" Queen Isolde's voice cracks like a whip, making me jump. Her eyes, so warm when they looked at me, now blaze with maternal fury. "This day is for your brother and his mate. There has not been a soul mate match in centuries. We have a coronation and a wedding to put on. You will be silent and polite. Is that understood, Destrien?"

I watch as Hawke's brother bows his head, but I can see the defiance still simmering in his eyes. "Yes, mother." The words are said, but they ring hollow.

CHAPTER 47

Repeat After Me

Melinda Mayweather

I take a deep breath, my hands smoothing over the shimmering fabric of my gown. Lydia fusses with the train, her nimble fingers adjusting the delicate lace trim, while Elen tucks an errant strand of hair back into my elaborate updo.

"It's time, my lady," Kellan murmurs from behind me.

I step forward and peer through the ornate doors into the throne room of Vandimoor palace. The sight steals my breath away. Hundreds of floating orbs bathe the chamber in ethereal light, their warm glow illuminating a sea of faces.

Garlands of silver-blue flowers and deep crimson roses drape from the vaulted ceiling and along the walls, their perfume mingling with the heady scent of excitement that hangs in the air.

The sheer number of guests overwhelms me. Familiar faces from the Changing of the Guard ceremony mingle with royalty from across the realms. The Asgardian king and queen stand tall near the front, while Hades and his Valkyries cut imposing figures along the side. Even Wraith's family and the Drakonii monarchs have made an appearance.

I turn to Kellan, my voice barely above a whisper. "I never imagined... With all the fighting, how can there be guests from so many of the worlds?"

Kellan's mouth curves into a gentle smile, reminding me so much of my father. "You are the next queen of the Fae, Domina. It would've been an insult to King Theon if they had not attended. The Fae may be small in number, but the ability to bend reality commands great power, respect, and fear."

I nod and step into the threshold. A hush falls over the crowd as I take my first step down the aisle. My heart pounds in my chest, a flutter of nerves and excitement making my fingers tremble. The elaborate wedding gown Elen and Lydia dressed me in is its own kind of armor—layers of silken fabric the color of moonlight floats around me with each step.

At the far end of the hall, Hawke stands tall and handsome, his broad shoulders draped in a silver cloak embroidered with red metallic threads. His eyes are soft with emotion and fixed on me.

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