Page 103 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
Ezra’s voice jolts me out of a delightfully peaceful sleep. “Wakey, wakey.” Spider fingers climb up my spine and nudge me to consciousness as I stir awake, nestled in Aidan’s arms.
His solid chest is pressed to my cheek, and an annoyed grunt falls from his lips as he swats Ezra’s hand away from us. “By the Flame, mate. Don’t you knock?”
“You two should be grateful I’m not the bride, or there would be some explaining to do.” Ezra pulls the blinds wide open, the blaring light assaulting my retinas, the sun already high in the sky.
“Willow would never sneak into my room without knocking,” Aidan grumbles.
“Well, in a few hours, we’ll be brothers, and that’s what brothers do. Get used to it.”
Aidan rubs down his face, his other arm not giving me an inch to spare. “Why are you here, Ezra?”
“I’m getting married today, or have you forgotten? It’s time to get ready.”
I glance at the clock on the dresser—I was supposed to meet Willow in her room half an hour ago. I slip from Aidan’s grasp. “By the spindle! I’m late!”
“Don’t worry, I covered for you. I need to speak with you before you go,” Ezra says quickly, his gaze darting from me to Aidan. “Can I have a word in private with your girl? I need to ask her something.”
“Are you pushing me out of my own room?”
“Please,” Ezra adds with a throaty laugh, and from Aidan’s reaction, I figure it’s not a word he uses often.
The groom closes the door behind his pissed off friend and averts his gaze. “Willow looked wretched this morning. She says it’s just a hangover from all the cider she had last night, but I almost thought she was about to run away. Did she mention anything to you?”
“You don’t look much better,” I say instead of answering the question.
Dark circles drag down Ezra’s ice-blue eyes, the glow of his skin mute in comparison to his usual luminous complexion.
“I know I’m not her choice, and it’s killing me,” he chucks out, pulling at his platinum-blonde hair. The lapels of his dress shirt are half-opened and skewed to one side. “What should I do?”
“Oh, Ezra.” I wince, unsure if I should encourage him to put a stop to this or not.
I understand better than ever how evil his father truly is. If Ezra went along with the wedding up until now, he clearly thinks he doesn’t have a choice. He wouldn’t have let it get this far if he had another option, so I probably should assuage his worries, knowing the worst can’t be avoided.
I wrap him up in a hug and stroke his back, and he hides his face in my tangled hair.
“Willow will never love me,” he grimaces, “and we both know why. Any commitment between us is purely for politics. I was glad to get both our fathers off our backs when I thought she was alright with it, but after what she said last night…”
The mention of his father drains the blood right from my face, but I try to stay on subject. I’m not naive enough to think Willow would be allowed to disclose her sexuality and live the life she wants without burning all her bridges, not in the world we live in.
“It’s not fair to her. Or you. I’m so sorry.”
It’s not like with me and Zeke. If the Shadow Prince was a decent man, I could learn to love him, and maybe even enjoy intimacy with him, but Ezra and Willow’s sham marriage is doomed from the start.
He chokes out a tensed breath, eyes glazing with unshed tears. “I can’t believe I have to fuck her in front of all these people.”
I straighten the lapels of his shirt and button up the collar. “Then let me say this. If I had to have sex with someone I wasn’t in love with, in front of a crowd, it would be you.”
“Really?”
“No question.” I nudge his side playfully. “Come on, you’re Ezra Lightbringer.”
“That’s true,” he says with a bit of sass.
“Having sex with a friend is probably the best option after true love, and Willow trusts you. She said so last night.”
“She did?”
“Yes.”
