Page 104 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
“Thank you. That helps.”
I smooth out the intensity of the moment with a gentle chuckle. “When my turn comes with Zeke, I hope you’ll be there to give me a pep talk.”
Ezra rolls his eyes. “Be real, Lady Snow. Aidan will never let that happen.”
I give him a sad smile, knowing in my heart that he’s probably right. I can’t fathom what he must be feeling right now, about to give a part of himself to someone he didn’t choose.
“Don’t you dare send me off to war without a kiss, my lady.” He presses a quick kiss to my mouth.
A jolt of electricity raises all my hairs to attention as he lingers into the faint touch, but his lips quickly twitch in a sad, fleeting motion. He sidesteps, and I stare at his retreating back until he disappears from view.
Aidan reenters the room almost immediately. A forlorn pout pulls at his mouth. “What did he want?”
I shake off the strange aftershocks of Ezra’s chaste, almost fearful kiss. “Um, he needed a little encouragement, that’s all.”
Aidan wraps me up in his arms, but I recoil from his embrace. It’s all so clear in the daylight. If I can’t tell Aidan the truth about me, I can’t continue to lean on him. I have to choose between the fear of losing him forever and the fear of being outed for what I am.
“You’re pulling away from me,” he breathes, his arms falling at his sides. “Is it because of Ezra?”
By the spindle...Willow first, and now Aidan? “Not at all.”
He cups my cheek and angles my face toward his, his thumb hot on the corner of my mouth, tempting me to push aside my dilemma and give in to the magnetic pull of his kiss. But I dig my nails into the underside of his wrist.
“Tell me if something’s going on between you two. I beg you.”
I press my cheek to his palm, holding his inquisitive gaze. “Nothing is going on between me and Ezra. I swear.”
The clear-cut answer seems to put him at ease, and his shoulders relax. “I’m sorry. I’m acting like a jealous creep. I’ll do better, I promise.”
I tear myself away. “Nonetheless, I have to go.”
“Beth. Talk to me. What are you hiding?”
“I have to go,” I repeat, the ice from last night returning full force.
If I don’t hurry, I’ll be late to the ceremony, and when Willow asks where in the seven hells I’ve been, I can’t admit to spending the night in her brother's arms.
I take a deep breath, trying to push aside the guilt that coils in my chest. But I can't afford to let the truth slip now—not when everything is so fragile, not when one wrong word could shatter it all.
Willow's wedding dress,though delicate and elegant, carries an unexpected strength in its design. Metallic accents glimmer in the twilight, strategically placed across her bodice and waist, resembling the armor of a soldier heading into battle. The rubies in her tiara mirror the sheen of polished weapons, and the metallic threads woven through the gown’s layers hint at an unspoken resilience.
Ezra traded his wings in favor of a white, pristine cloak that drapes around him like a living thing. The fabric shimmers with an opalescent glow, its delicate folds soft like clouds but carrying the weight of something much stronger underneath. His matching waistcoat and pants are adorned with golden accents, reminiscent of the Solar Cliffs' hawthorn.
Officiating the ceremony, Mabel recites her lines in a voice that raises goosebumps on my neck. “Mortal love wanes, but Fae love burns to the bone.”
The wedding ceremony is similar to the ones we hold in Wintermere, with a few key differences, starting with the ruby-encrusted blade being purified over a pyre symbolizing the Flame of Fate.
The Summerlands are still using a version of the vows that accounts for their old religion, and I find the difference enthralling. Tears well up in Thera’s eyes, everyone so consumed by the ceremony that they don’t notice how Aidan only has eyes for me.
I’m about to melt into nothingness, leaving behind only a ruined puddle of unfulfilled dreams and gnawing hunger on the marble, as he digs his gaze into every inch of bare skin exposed by my studded, fire-and-amber dress—an ensemble that perfectly matches his suit.
By Thanatos, my cheeks must be red as flames.
I need a dip in freezing water—or a slap in the face.
The most striking and surreal view in all the realms has filled my head with fairy tales that are harder to shake than the most powerful of enchantments. From the other side of the altar, Aidan’s eyes drift to me every so often as Mabel recites lines that speak of passion, love, and giving yourself fully to another by the mutual spilling of blood. Ezra and Willow conceal their nervousness to a T, and if I didn’t know them, I could almost believe they were in love.
The pointy end of the Summer’s ruby dagger shines, more enticing than a spindle atop a cursed spinning wheel.
