Page 93 of When Night Falls
"Now, have our guests arrived?" I pull at the cuffs of my button-up, flattening them out.
"I know the twins made their visit earlier this morning, but I also know that they were denied entry. Viktrum's guard accepted the invitations. That is all I know."
After Trav's confession, I knew this was my chance. I'd known all along that our former queen had to have been alive. I felt it in my gut despite her trace having gone cold, I just needed a way to make her want to show herself. And Travois confirmed my suspicions. She was now a Valor Cove Nocturne. The news wasn't as shocking to me but to know the extent of which she went through to secure her place, to hide from this kingdom, did kind of catch me off guard.
I knew she ran away. Some believed she was kidnapped but I saw her packing her bags twenty years ago. I was walking through the halls, on the way to my own room when I caught a glimpse of my step-mother slamming things into a suitcase, frantic.
The whole castle knew my father was an old, bitter man. But he was more than that to me. But I can’t for the life of me figure out why she would have wanted to flee from her life, leaving thetwins behind the first time and then running again for a second. Maybe she really didn't want to be here.
But my mother did.
Now, her existence is clear and pretty much out in the open, I have to act before she retreats again. The only problem is, if she won't accept an invite from her own kids, how am I supposed to lure her back into her old kingdom so that we can have a friendly face-to-face.
I hold my own stare in the reflection of the mirror. I've worked hard for this day. I know my time has come. I don't want to break her heart, but she has to know what it feels like to want revenge so viscerally that it consumes you. She's been abused the same as I. And maybe she'll forgive me for this one day. Besides, after today we'll have forever. Maybe.
Lucynda has been the object of my forbidden desires for quite some time now and I can't deny that I am so absolutely destroyed by the little siren. But I made a promise to myself and the one I love most. And I know that my true ticket to my act of vengeance will be my wife.
THE WEDDING
A black widow.
Venomous and dark, but the appeal of her danger is what draws out the beauty that captures eyes. Once she's got you trapped in her web, she sucks the life out of your soul and uses you for her own gratification.
Lucynda Draven Claire is a fucking black widow.
Cyn walks out from behind the curtain; our entire guest list stands and stares. Not because she's my soon-to-be wife, but because they are just as fucking mesmerized by her as I am.
She's wearing a black dress. She’s a devastating deviant for it and the cynical smirk displayed on her perfectly wine-stained lips is the tell that she knows she’s bad.
Her eyes find mine as she walks down the aisle, the music fades and the background blurs. All I can see is her.
I've felt this undeniable tether to her all along. Since the day I made her worthless piece of shit father take his last breath. When I paved the way for her to live within arms reach of me. Then I soothed every single one of her panic attacks with my voice, filling her head with promise that everything will be okay. From the day I realized that she is my cage and I can't escape her. Even if I plan to break her heart.
I fear I've taken my obsession a little too far by allowing myself the luxury of what she feels like, what she tastes like when she comes and how her voice cries out my name. I wasn't supposed to give in like that. I wasn't supposed tocareabout her. But looking at her now, her winter white hair, the silver glow in her doe eyes, the pout on her lips—God, how fucking sweet they would be wrapped around my cock—and the fucking black dress.
A pure sin it is to be tethered to her.
I can't help my eyes when they feel hungry just from looking at her. And I don't stop the carnal change in them, the whole fucking room can see it happening and I should be cautious of letting my cards show too much. But fuck it. Let them see. Sheis fucking mine and I won't let anyone forget that, even if I know the end of this will inevitably, possibly, shatter her to pieces.
I can hear her pulse as the music fades to silence and she turns to hand her roses to Troy, who gives her an undeniably proud smirk. Those two have seemed to become rather close to each other these past few days and it makes me a little uneasy. If only they knew.
"Lucynda," I whisper so low that only she can hear; impatience twisted in my tone. Impatient because the taste of her still sits heavy on my tongue. I can still feel her convulsing around me as I made her see stars. And I know there's nothing more that I want to do right now than to make her feel that same pleasure all over again. I want to make her feel so fucking good only to break her and put her back together.
"Rivian," she whispers back before the priest starts.
Do you like my dress?
She knows I can hear her thoughts; she wants me to hear them. She knew exactly what she was doing when picking out this dress. It’s a curse. She’s showing me that she is not afraid of trivial things like myths that she wouldn’t know to hold true. But honestly, I don’t personally know the truth behind said curse either. The only curse I am victim to is the one in front of me with wildly light eyes and a devilish smirk creating a twister of mixed emotions inside of my brain.
My heart pounds. I only feel this way around her. It feels deeper than an obsession and more than a lore telling me she's my soulmate, but I can't let those feelings take over. I'll give her everything I can without fucking up the one thing I have left to control. Revenge.
"We are gathered here today…" the priest starts and all of the murmurs between our audience quiet down as we all project our attention to the speaker.
Except for me. I can't take my eyes off my sweet Cyn.
It's a dreadful fifteen minutes of pointless talking and scriptures that don't even matter to me, and I'm sure she's bored out of her mind as well. I catch her closing her eyes, a smile still faint across her perfect face, and her chest is rising and falling uncontrollably.
You look beautiful, little one.