Page 72 of Secrets of Avalon
The hall erupts in a thunderous applause, the sound of hundreds of voices raised in celebration.
I had braced myself for whispers about the abandoned arrangement with the Darkwood family, for questioning glances and barely concealed disapproval. Instead, the hall seems united in its celebration of our engagement. This unconditional acceptance fills me with a newfound sense of hope and determination.
"I am humbled by the trust you have placed in me, Father, and by the support of all those gathered here tonight," I begin. My father raises his cup to me and I bow deeply.
"Let the feasting begin and the wine flow freely!" My father's voice booms across the hall, setting the tone for the evening ahead. We take our seats once more, the scrape of chairs and the clink of goblets filling the air as the guests settle in for the feast.
I catch my mother's eye, her smile radiant and filled with a warmth that seeps into my very bones. "Thank you," I mouth the words. She nods an acknowledgement before turning her attention back to my father.
I turn to Melinda. Her eyes are wide. Her heart is pounding, but she appears in control. The delicate dragon tattoo on her wrist, a symbol of the guardian that resides within her, moves languidly up and down her bare arm, a mesmerizing dance that draws my gaze to look hungrily at every bit of bare skin.
"This is really happening, isn't it? We're getting married in three days. You're becoming… king. I–" Her voice trembles, the words catching in her throat.
Leaning in close, I rest my forehead against hers. "What’s wrong?" I ask, my breath ghosting over her skin.
"A few days ago, I was running for my life. I thought I was going to die. My family was murdered in front of me. I didn't even know Avalon existed. Certainly, I never imagined anything like this." Her words are raw, and I feel her pain like it’s my own.
I want to take it from her. Carry it for her. My heart aches for the suffering she has endured, but I can’t wish her life had led her another way. I’m selfish. I want her here in Avalon with me. I need her.
Everything that happened to her led her to this moment.
I let my gaze drift down to the soft swell of her breasts, the smooth expanse of skin that rises and falls with each breath she takes. And there, glowing beneath the surface like a tiny sun, is my soul shard–a light that will banish my darkness.
“You are everything to me. You know that. I would walk away from all of this. One word from you is all it would take. None of this matters. Only you.” The words pour out of me, a declaration of my devotion and unwavering commitment. This is how I make it better. This is how I carry her pain. This is how I serve penance for my selfishness.
She looks up at me, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I'm terrified of hurting you, but I'm more frightened of losing you. I want everything you have to offer. You're meant to be a king. And I will support you in every way I can. I don't know anything about your people or about being a leader. But you are my family now, and I will do my best for you."
Her words steal the breath from my lungs, a promise of love and loyalty that resonates through every fiber of my being. I am humbled by her strength, her resilience in the face of unimaginable adversity. She is a survivor, a fighter, a queen in every sense of the word. She is and has always been meant for me.
I bring her hands to my lips, pressing a reverent kiss to her knuckles. "And that is more than enough, Melinda."
As the words leave my lips, a hush falls over the room, the chatter and laughter fading into a whisper. A single note pierces the air, a haunting melody that sends shivers down my spine. It's a song I've heard a thousand times before, a traditional Fae ballad that speaks of love, loss, and the unbreakable bonds that tie two souls together.
The music crescendos, a symphony of pipes fill the hall with an enchanting rhythm. Around us, couples begin to rise from their seats, their bodies swaying in time with the music. They all make their way to the open center of the room.
I turn to Melinda, my heart pounding in my chest. I drink in the sight of her, the way the candlelight dances across her skin, the way her eyes sparkle with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. I stand, my hand outstretched. "Dance with me.”
She hesitates, her gaze flickering to the sea of dancers. Then, with a smile that takes my breath away, she places her hand in mine, allowing me to draw her to her feet and into my embrace.
As we move to the center of the room, the music wraps around us like a cocoon, separating us from the rest of the world. In this moment, nothing else matters. Not the crown that awaits me, not the challenges that lie ahead. All that exists is the woman in my arms, her body pressed against mine, and the warmth of her breath on my skin.
We sway in perfect harmony, our bodies moving together easily, a dance as natural as breathing. I lose myself in the depths of her eyes, in the love and trust that shines within them. The music builds to a crescendo and I lean in close, brushing my lips against hers.
The moment our mouths meet, the world around us fades away, the music and the dancers blurring into a distant hum. All that exists is her soft, warm lips against mine and the taste of her on my tongue, sweet and intoxicating.
I deepen the kiss, my hand sliding up her back, holding her tightly. She responds with equal fervor, her arms winding around my neck, her body melting into mine until there's no space left between us.
When we finally break apart, both of us breathless and trembling. I savor the lingering taste of her on my lips and stare down into the ocean of emotions swirling in her gaze.
“I want to steal you away from this dinner and make you mine, Melinda, but I will shame my parents if I do not take the time to introduce you to the other royal families.”
I love the way her cheeks pink up and her body shivers against mine.
“I–umm–well–I certainly don’t want to shame your parents,” she answers with a small nervous smile.
I offer my elbow and she takes it. “No we do not, Lady Mayweather.” I lead her toward the U-shaped group of high tables, planning to speed through introductions.
Our first stop is King Jarlath and Queen Sasha Kergadras' table. The Upir rulers sit regally, their onyx-black skin a striking contrast against the silver and white of their elegant attire. Beside them, two small children, the ones the Valkyries went searching for yesterday, sit safe and content, happily consuming their body weight in honey cakes.