Page 39 of Break Her Heart
He shook his head. “Not today. Halston needs to speak with us about tomorrow.”
“What—” And then I remembered. Tomorrow was the wedding. My stomach dropped like a stone.
* * *
We sat in a room on the main floor of the castle. The chairs were plush, velvet-backed things that were dulled with age. A hearth flickered low in the corner of the room, the fire inside barely more than a whisper of flame, caged behind glass to keep all embers from escaping.
August sat across from me, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair with a glint in his eyes. But it wasn’t amusement—it was something sharper. Restless. Like his body was here, but his thoughts were pacing somewhere far darker.
Halston waltzed into the room. “Your Grace.” He bowed and glanced at me as he stood back up, a flicker of disapproval tightening the corners of his eyes. “I didn’t realize you were bringing the human with you.”
I stared daggers at him.
“I want her here to understand what will happen tomorrow,” August said, his tone clipped.
Halston’s hesitation was noticeable. “As you wish. I just wanted to go over the ceremony one last time. It will be quite simple. I will speak the traditional words. The two of you will be crowned, and I will announce you as King and Queen.”
“No.”
Halston blinked. “No?”
“I want to do it like the humans do. The rings. The kiss. Even the silly practice that has been lost in time. What is it? Ah, yes.” August smiled. “Binding.”
I shot out of my chair, the legs scraping loudly against the stone floor. “Are you fucking serious?”
The weight of everything came crashing down at once, settling in my chest like stone. Binding two souls together wasn’t some romantic tradition—it was sacred. A ritual where you called to the gods and asked to be tethered together not just in this life, but in the peace found after. It was a promise for eternity.
And it wasn’t lost to time. The humans stopped doing it, because they believed it was witchcraft. Dangerous. But our witches still did it. And only with the deepest love. The most unshakable trust.
How did he even know about that?
“I will not bind myself to you,” I said, the words sharp enough to cut.
August didn’t even look at me.
“Your Grace, I do not think that is a good idea,” Halston said carefully.
“Why not? It doesn’t concern Carrow. It is soul to soul. Mine to hers. Forever.”
Halston faltered. “Well, I suppose—”
“You suppose nothing. You’ll do it because I command it.”
I stepped forward, fists clenched. “Are you deaf? I said I will not bind myself to you!”
August waved me off like I was a child throwing a fit.
“I’m sure you remember how they used to do the bindings. Prepare for it.”
“August—”
He moved before I could finish, cradling me against his chest. And then we were blurring through the halls of the castle, faster than I could process, his grip unrelenting.
I hated when he moved like this—inhumanly fast, air whipped past my ears, the ground vanished beneath my feet. Every time, it made me nauseous.
He stopped in our room, and I shoved out of his grip.
“I feel like this conversation would be better if it was private,” he said, brushing his shirt where it had wrinkled from holding me, as if that inconvenience mattered more than my fury.
