Page 103 of The Deadliest Game

Isolda helped me out of my leg and into the wheelchair before a Trabajador escorted me to dinner with Antonio. The lights were soft, with the focal point being the flickering candles on the dining table, casting eerie shadows against the walls.

"Hola," Antonio said, gesturing to the empty space across from him. The chair had already been removed in preparation for my bulky seat.

I obeyed without a word, the silence between us heavy and suffocating. He poured me a glass of water, and I sipped it slowly, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach.

"How's the dress?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Fine," I grumbled.

Antonio studied me for a moment before turning his attention to the food being served. We ate silently, the only sounds coming from the clink of our utensils against the plates.

“Son is arriving sometime this evening. You'll probably be asleep," Antonio said.

I nodded. He had mentioned this friend before. Before, I would've been curious, but now it didn't matter. Our dinners had been like this every night for the last couple weeks.

However, Antonio was chatty tonight. "He's back from university in Eskosia."

I hummed while I pushed my food around on my plate, lost in thought.

Antonio prodded me. "We are going out for some drinks. Are you planning anything with Magda?"

I shook my head. "Your mother wants to take me to some spa to polish my body." We slipped into an awkward silence after I mentioned a body that would only be soft for our wedding night. Despite my anger, I didn't want the conversation to end. "What does he think of the people there?" I asked lamely.

Of course, when I had been held captive, I saw the kind of people that lived there. Fae. Faeries.

Antonio shrugged. "He loves Eskosia. He's only coming back for the wedding."

Silence.

"Has he seen the wyvern?"

Antonio paused. "I don't know."

I nodded and then went back to being quiet. I couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. None of the wedding, the marriage, or the child felt real.

But as much as I wanted to run, there was nowhere to go to escape this life. This was all there was, and I was trapped in it.

I finished my meal quickly and excused myself, eager to retreat to my room.

This time, breaking another pattern, Antonio stood up and stopped me. "Wait."

I stopped.

"I can't do this." He raked a hand over my face.

I raised an eyebrow. “Can’t marry me? It's a little late now. I've resigned myself to this, so I think you can, too."

I kept moving, and he walked alongside me, giving me a puzzling view of his shaky hands. "No. Never mind. Let me help you go to bed."

When we reached the stairs that led to my room, instead of helping me with one of his arms, he picked me up as if I weighed nothing.

My heart fluttered for the first time in weeks. I ignored it and him as we walked up the stairs. There was another chair in my room, which he set me into so that Isolda could brush my hair.

He stared down at me, his eyes lined with silver.

"Buenas noches."

I had one more day before everything would change. But whether it would be for better or for worse, I couldn't say. All I knew was that I was terrified of what would come next.

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