Page 101 of A Bride for the Winter King
Gasps, loud whispers, and a frantic buzz washes through the crowd of High Fae gathered on both sides of the aisle.
Paul raises a smooth gray eyebrow at us. “Another twist.”
The master of ceremony feigns annoyance, but his shrewd gaze is practically scintillating as it meets mine, and one corner of his mouth curls up. I swear one of his nosy cameras must be broadcasting directly inside his damn skull.
Elio jumps off the stage and jogs toward us, and I dig the balls of my feet in the snow. My mouth hangs open as the angry, bitter words that were ingrained in my brain on my way over get strangled in my throat.
“You came back.” He stops short of reaching for me, his fists curling at his side as his gaze darts to Daisy in her bridal gown.
She lets out a nervous chortle and lets go of my arm. “Your Majesty, it’s obvious to see… Lori here is the one who holds your heart.”
Elio shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his face ashen.
Daisy offers the guests and cameras a sad smile. “How could you choose anyone else after we all saw how bravely she risked her life to save yours? We all witnessed first-hand how fiercely she protected you, and she might not be from the first kingdoms, but if we know anything in Spring, it’s that true love trumps tradition.”
“What about the rules?” Paul quips, his intent gaze goading me to stake my claim.
My tongue finally starts working again. “True love transcends crowns, blood, and flesh. It doesn’t care for common sense and doesn’t play by the rules.” A blush spreads across my cheeks, but my voice remains steadier than I’d hoped. “I love you, Elio. It doesn’t make a lick of sense, but I do. And whether or not I wanted to say it for the first time in front of all of Wintermere… It needed to be said.”
He brushes his thumb across my cheek. “I love you too, Lori.”
I can see his resolve grow. He still plans to fight me on this.
I block Paul, the crowd, and the cameras out, focusing on the bob of Elio’s throat and the fresh patch of blue freckles on his neck until all I can see is him. “The venom is spreading fast.” I graze the festering wound along my rib. “I’m dying, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it, unless…” I reach into my pocket to retrieve the frost apple and hold it up to the light.
The ethereal luster of the blue peel dries my mouth once more. Every time I’ve thought about eating it, I’ve felt sick, but not now. Without the apple—without Elio—I’m a dead woman walking. He can’t expect me to accept it if he’s not willing to let me save him, too.
The sea rolling inside his immortal gaze is bright and hypnotic as it slips to my lips. “If I marry you, you’ll eat it? Is that your proposal?”
“Yes. Before I met you, I was already marked for death. If you want me to fight my fate and grab this opportunity to heal, you have to do the same for yourself.”
“You’re…” he pecks my lips, “evil.”
“I’m your queen.”
Elio offers me a wicked, filthy grin. “Yes. Yes, you are.” His grip on the nape of my neck tightens as he tilts my chin toward him and swallows my next breath with a kiss.
He tastes of salt and bitter tears, mingled with fresh snow, pine sap, and a bite of Nether cider.
Paul clears his throat. “If the bride and groom could move up to the altar.”
Daisy gives us an encouraging nod and gestures us forward. Under the watchful eyes of the High Fae, Elio extends his hand for me to take.
I lace our fingers together, tucking the apple back into my pocket before we walk up the aisle. The bright smiles and murmured approval of the courtiers spell out their enthusiasm for this sudden, unexpected turn of events.
They probably think it was all staged, too.
“Mortal love wanes. Fae love cuts to the bone.” The master of ceremonies holds out a curved ice dagger with a platinum pommel and guard. “Will you cut yourself to honor your commitment to each other, from this moment forth to eternity?”
The tip of the beautiful blade gleams in the night as Elio picks it up and slides the edge across his thumb in one smooth, confident motion. “You belong to Winter, and Winter…belongs to you. Before I met you, I convinced myself that I didn’t want to live, that death was my past, present, and future. But I want more than that, and it starts with you, Lorisha Pari Singh.”
He swipes the blood across my cheek, and it frosts over, leaving only a trail of red snowflakes in its wake.
“Elio… All my life, I’ve been running. I fled from the painful memories of my childhood. I hunted nightmares but avoided every opportunity for greatness that came with training. I never allowed myself to take a risk with my heart. I ran from the grief I carried and anything that made my blood race too hard. I ran so far and with such ease that I forgot to slow down and truly live. I want alifewith you.”
I cut myself, too, and paint shadows over his full, masculine lips. The blood seeps into his skin as I rest a hand over his heart—the heart of the reaper king no longer frozen, but frantic. Myhusband’s heart. Beating forme.
He steals the apple from my unzipped pocket and hands it over. “We had a deal.”
