Page 102 of A Kingdom of Destruction

Cillian might be a great person and a better friend, but he didn’t light the same kind of fire inside of her that Roran did. Despite the tough-guy act, she knew he did care about her. She saw it in his face when he looked at her.

No one looked at her the way Roran did. Not even Cillian.

Her heart knew the truth long before it caught up with her head.

They might have gotten off on the wrong foot, but she understood him much better now. They were very similar creatures.

The afternoon of the wedding, Aven stood outside the throne room doors with Nora at her side. Her wedding dress boasted a high collar and tight sleeves. She hadn’t been able to shake the sensation of being choked.

Nora took hours to get her ready for the event and transformed herself in the process. She’d done her hair in soft waves and dressed in what she’d explained was one of her finest gowns. The simple sheath of pretty boysenberry purple complemented the auburn strands.

An honor, Nora assured her, to be there for Aven on her special day.

The wedding was high security and extravagant. Even from here, the roar of the guests inside became a solid boundary of noise. Ants crawled in her veins rather than blood, and she bounced from foot to foot, unable to keep still.

Her choices had narrowed to Nora walking her down the aisle or the Fae King, and judging from their past interactions, Aven would rather slit her own throat than spend a moment longer than necessary with the crusty monarch and his threats.

He’d pushed her into this position from the beginning and had made it clear she would be forced to wed at least one of his two sons.

Roran lodged in her mind from sunup to sundown and every hour in between. She dreamed of him when she closed her eyes, and the relationship she’d assured herself had been dead and buried suddenly rose to life again.

Oh, the arguments they might have with one another. The verbal sparring and the small bits of information he dropped about himself that made her crave hearing the entire story. They had much more to learn about each other.

She made her choice.

So had he, and it wasn’t her.

Aven shook her head to clear it, and her excessively curled hair barely moved an inch.

Nora had to push her into motion once the doors opened and the orchestra struck out a lively beat to usher her down the aisle. Ahead of her, Cillian stood strong and handsome in traditional wedding garb. The white tunic showed off the sunny strands of his hair, and excitement brought twin dots of cherry color to his cheeks. Pleated white pants were starched into place and showed off the long lines of his legs.

His eyes were warm and bright where they met hers. He looked every inch the fantasy.

She should feel lucky.

Not terrified, with every step wooden and automatic. Nora practically dragged her along the red carpet at her feet.

The throne room had been filled to capacity with straight-backed chairs. Bodies filled every seat, and all of them were fae. There were no humans here. Her father turned tail and bolted back to his broken kingdom the moment the guards allowed. This time, none of the royal family escorted him out.

She knew he wouldn’t be returning.

The walls of the room began to shift inward again. Roran stood beside Cillian as his mirror opposite, and Aven stared at him, an anchor, but not one weighing her down.

It was her wedding day.

She’d thrown herself into the wedding festivities and made sure every element of the ceremony sent a message of unity.

Now she stifled a groan and couldn’t tear her gaze away from him.

No.She’d be fine. She had no choice but to be fine. The officiant would bless their marriage, and then everything would be solved.

Her throat constricted, her mouth going dry, and her hands shaking despite the smile plastered across her features. Apple blossoms and other delicate petals scattered where she walked, past the chairs flanking her, past the nobles whispering under their breath.

Cillian held out a hand for her, his arm steady.

He was always reaching back for her in one way or another.

She glanced at Roran and the concern in his eyes. His mouth went tight, and he took an imperceptibly small step toward her, his head angled like he wanted to speak.

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