Page 1 of Hupotasso
1
I crumble into the limousine’s long leather seat, my puffy wedding gown billowing around me like an embroidered parachute, and try not to cry as the cameras flash outside and the crowd cheers.
The moment the door shuts and I’m cocooned inside the vehicle, the waterworks start.
I don’t know what I’ve done to make him change his mind about me — to make him so angry.
Maybe he’d realised the moment he killed Giselle that he’d made a mistake. Maybe it was afterwards, when he was being interviewed about his choice as I was left to stand beside the body of the woman he’d always favoured.
I thought by winning The Games I was winning his heart. What a fool I’ve been.
His cold expression and hateful words at the pulpit were like a bucket of ice being thrown over me, and nothing in the world will ever warm me again.
Throughout both ceremonies I was frozen. A frozen smile hiding a frozen heart. I’d gone through the motions, yet I was not really there.
I thought I might manage to draw him out between ceremonies when I told him I hadn’t changed my mind about the obedience bite, that I still didn’t want it. But he couldn’t care less.
“I wouldn’t taint my mouth if you begged me,” he’d snarled. “We’ll make a show of it for The Families, as we’ve done for the past few months,” he’d added bitterly, “but not a drop of your befouled blood will touch my lips.”
“Befouled? Wait, what?”
I’d reached out to grip his arm, to make him explain, but he’d pulled away roughly and stormed off to await me in the cathedral for the next ceremony.
I would have followed, but his best man, Jag, and groomsman, Wolf, barred my way.
Escorted to the next ceremony I’d once again said my vows and smiled for the guests, while inside I was dying. The whole time I was wondering what the hell was going on with him, why the sudden change.
But now I think I get it, and the shock and despair have turned to rage.
It’s clear he knows he made a mistake – he doesn’t want me. And I’m angry. Angry with him, with the show, the universe, but mostly with myself for ever dreaming someone like him would choose me. For ever imagining that a cold-blooded serial killer could feel anything, anything at all, for a human.
‘Idiot. I’m the world’s biggest idiot. When will I learn that people don’t change? When? Too late now.’
I wipe my eyes on my gown’s sleeve and wince as the pearls and sequins scrape my cheeks. The driver meets my eyes momentarily in the rearview mirror. I don’t know what he sees, because he doesn’t offer any congratulations, just quickly looks away and rolls up the dark screen between us.
The limousine has all the usual comforts, and I dampen a corner of my hideous gown in the champagne ice bucket and pat my face.
It takes me a long time before my face resumes its normal colour, because all the while I wait I’m rehearsing what I’ll say to my bachelor when he appears, and rehashing the horror of the past few hours.
‘No, not my bachelor. My husband. I married this bastard. We’re husband and wife now. Surely we can work this out? Surely he wasn’t just pretending to have feelings for me all that time? Feelings? He never said he had feelings… Oh God! What have I done? Why didn’t he just choose Giselle? Is he really planning to get me pregnant and then kill me?’
Finally, I see a man walking towards the car.
I wish I wasn’t one of those people who cried when they’re really angry, but I am and always have been. It’s why I school myself socarefully to keep my mouth shut when I’m annoyed, to consider my words, to take a deep breath and count to ten.
But not today.
As the door swings open I turn to confront the man tearing my heart into confetti. But it’s not the vampire I’ve married who steps in and settles across from me with a grim expression. It’s his handsome and usually funny best man.
“Jag?” I frown at him, puzzled.
He stares at me, his fangs descending as he bangs on the black glass screen to indicate to the chauffeur to start driving.
Despite my best efforts to be strong, my voice trembles as I face his terrible expression.
“Jag, where’s Falcon?”
“As if he would ride with you,” he spits, his eyes deadly.
