Sweet. Lovely.

It was supposed to be sweet and lovely.

Supposed to be ethereal and pure.

A day to celebrate. A day for butterflies and rainbows orchestrating a heavenly fancy for a brand new lifetime.

The night in Cozbenia turned luxuriously splendid with old-gold and cigar brown as its overall color palette. Aesthetically pleasing, burnt orange rose petals along with pampas are guiding the aisle, and as wild as it sounds, in the middle of the woods, the cottagecore wedding exceeded the ones I've read in books, especially when the rustic-lineage chandelier orbs that are hanging... scattered over the ground... and peeking in tree branches... lighted as if has been in the same lustrous of the moon.

Mystical forest in the ethereal heaven, under the somber moon.

True enough, it was the Vnestivar's kind of play.

Gradually... I let my index course the flamboyance of my dress. Anyone could tell from the sparkly thinned diamonds delineating the fringes and intricate points from my neck down to my toes. The see-through sheer touch is scandalously revealing intimate parts of my naked feminity, covering little of what lures attention. It was flowing down and straight, making the Clarisse dress more regal... elegant... and flattering to the eyes.

A wedding dress... every grandgirl will be dying to wear.

Never have I dreamed of wearing a dress and being a bride of a wedding as grand and perfect as this... but then never have I also even thought that my wedding day would be as suffocating as this.

The shushed wind once again caressed my face...my hair... my lips, but nothing can distract me better than the noises my heart is rocking. When the music hymned ardor and the streams under my feet served their purpose, I lifted my eyes.

A heartbreak.

On my wedding day.

To the man I love.

There he was... in front of everybody, the man with those prominent deep gold eyes. The same person I should vow my love.

It could have been the best.

Claps filled my ears, as well as buzzes on how perfect I am with the dress and how big this event has been. One swerve at the crowd, I got too overwhelmed by their hopes and smiles. These are the people I am gonna disappoint. The crowd this marriage gonna fail. My lips quivered behind the veil... for everything.

He should master up his act to be able to fool all of these eyes around us, but then again he isn't the kind of man who'd waste time to play fool on what's evident in the eye.

And he'd always get me disappointed.

The holy matrimony couldn't be an exception.

At the perfect cue, the live orchestra started and so I started paving the aisle, purple heart. Gradual... as everything, at once, became too excruciating, and then slower... as I try hard... to console myself as I watch not a single change of reaction from him.

His watch exudes bold staidness and cruelness as if it is not the love of his life he'll be wedded.

My lips fell from a stretch to a line.

My eyes warmed up without my desire.

It went like fucking shit to me, the love I had for him.

How did I find myself in this situation when supposed to be... I am to break free?

I let my hand rest loosely on my side. The finger that's supposed to have the partner ring folded on my palm by instinct when his gaze dropped. I lost mine in the woods, to where I nearly died... just to talk things up. I watched him clench his jaw as he searched more of my hands.

I know he doesn't fancy my tears. He once despised it that he have flipped up a dominion. But I couldn't help it now.

It is really sad when your utmost dream becomes another's prison.

I bravely met his eyes when my tears started flowing like waterfalls.

Then is it a curse, Lyconn? To have a sight like yours that would expose me even behind this fabric?

I've been warned... why have I even tried loving him?

What's even loveable about him?

I have never been into looks, no matter how outrageous... defined... and exquisite. He was a lot of that, his vivid cajolery could never be... justified by searing tongues. The riches may rouse me, taunt me, and yet it can never coax an entry the way the affluent souls do to me.

His maturity?

Oh god!

He's always so immature when it comes to me!

I fucking said I wanted out of his league and now he is shoving the whole of his family! Wedding me in front of them! Most of them don't even want me, I argued! He said, which... because his parents adores me.

It was already hard that clans are trying to break us apart, yet I tried. I tried hard. And all along it was silly of me to believe that we were both trying tough. Cause in the end, for him who is all that, I was and will never be worthy for the scrabbles.

He always had his options, and I've been his choice.

A choice that can be altered.

The most convenient werewolf to lure and the easiest to dispose.

And yes. These are the thoughts crowding my mind on my wedding day. Should these be the thoughts circling around my head as I walk down the aisle? Am I supposed to think like this? I am becoming the missis of the most desired... the most thirsted. Be branded under the dominion of the most influential dynasty.

Katara Zanardeva Vnestivar.

Sounds elusive. Envied. High-priced.

The wife should be walking slowly and careful on her big day all throughout the trail they say. But that's for genuine lovers. And so I smirk at myself and used my werewolf's speed to be immediately in front of my callous him. I planned to score an aggressive reach for his neck. So it was a huge startle for me when in a snap he did a side step and crouched down just exactly on my way, hovering me his possessing shadow.

I tried hard to win my orbs over shaking when all of his focus volumes up only... to me.

He raked my chest and the unadultered disapproval made known when he strictly eyed down on the exposed boobs on the side.

I gently inserted my arms on his when his neck corded powerfully to search someone in the crowd. His eyes shot back at my face, and languidly his fingers crawled to claim what's been freed, skin to skin.

Fitting it perfectly and seamlessly... that I passionately fought to not either reckon or... claw on his cufflinks.

The crowd cheered at the seemingly romantic couple in front of them, a wife and a husband thirsty for each other to be weeded immediately, but they know nothing of the truth our eyes are speaking right now. If only they knew...

The crowd would be overwhelmingly disappointed once they knew that what they are thinking is not the same of what is truly happening

He has his case with me.

I loathe him.

The priest started the ceremony and all the time all we did is to scowl in our own vicious ways into each other's eyes. My eyes are bloodshot, his are pitching dark. It was cruel to witness it turn darker as the wedding unfolds...and most darkest when the priest announce us to have our wedding kiss.

Should I even kiss an asshole?

Is a kiss on the cheek enough to make up for the crowd?

And if he wouldn't want it, would it...still... mortify me?

I threw him an empty stare when he stepped forward to near me. His jaw clenched, his fangs showed up sensually, and his heat started piercing my core.

And here I am, fumingly mad and disappointed with him, but still madly burning.

Languidly, he settled my hands on his shoulders. Bothered, his eyes bleed raven bitterness as he watched it unfold.

"You did me so damn good that I don't wanna see you,"

He whispered a vulgar curse when my naked chest onced brushed his scalding trunk.

"Got me so damn good I've almost decided to not marry you today,"

He should have not appeared in his suit at this place if he was very forced to do it! What shame would it bring him to run away on my wedding day, anyway?

I calmly nodded, stopping myself, and appeasing myself. To rationalize better so I won't backfire on my plan.

"Should I run?" I pleaded.

He remained dead silent so I continued.

"I'll never gonna see you again I'd vouch-"

"Fuck, no..." he firmly growled.

"I didn't kill our child..." My tears poured.

His eyes flickered an intense gore. It is a frightening sight.

His right hand left my waist, but instead of my anticipated gore, I got absolutely stunned when he moved to caress my cheeks, wiping my tears with his coarse thumb and tight lips.

Foolishly braver, my heart fell at my following line. "I didn't kill our child. Oh my god, I will not! Ever! I've never! I didn't... because Lyconn, we never had one!"

"Stop it..." he begged my tears.

"Lyconn... this marriage is not gonna work,"

"I am so fucking sure I'm gonna make us work,"

Make us work out? The last time I checked he wanted nothing of me! My chest savagely tightened, remembering again how he effortly evaded my reasons and efforts.

"You wouldn't even listen to me... " I cried.

I flew five fucking countries to explain and he would always turn his back on me as we both lay in his bed in wherever country I'd catch him! I got myself full of scars and almost died on a battlefield when I visited his grandpa's house just to ask if he wanted to see and talk to me because we have not yet broken up! No closure has been stated! I even roared and fought rascal in a match where he is in so we could finally have a chance to finally talk and he'd suddenly go home with a fucking wench!

What is wrong with him?!

I did him a favor and tried to walk a step back. His arm immediately stretch and I got caught off-guard when he indeed caught me by the waist, brushing my underboob gently.

He sighed heavily when I stiffened.

"I am still motherfucking in love with you even with the misunderstandings... Do you hear me?"

I wanted to call bullshit on that.

But it will reach her mom.

"Where should I run? Back me up. Where is the best exit? Please..." I pleaded in his embrace.

His hand drifted an angle in between my hips and chest. He guided my body against him when I am about to determinedly run.

"To where?" his voice strained as he nudge me gently on his frame.

I fought my way out of his arms yet in no way hell have I been successful. He didn't even flinched at my werewolf heat.

"Where are we going?"

"Cause I'll run with you..."

He pressed me so good against him that I wanted to burst into tears realizing it has been months of absence of this physical intimacy with him... the smell of his perfume on my nose. The mate bond magic in my heart...

In a bitter tone, I recited, "Let's do a divorce after this then-"

He intently crouched down but I refused his eyes. He chuckled, but it was absent of humor. It is pain, despair, and longing along with it.

"You've never known what is it to me, on the days I can't afford to see you." his deep gold eyes caramelized.

I hate how I memorize the hidden feelings buried in those orbs. I hate how it allows me to take a look at how soulful, sincere, and scared he is right now.

"You know very well it's you that I wanted to marry. I dreamed of this marriage. My vows... only for you. Damn, even in the midst of our fight I go bad on how my surname best fit you. Even when you disappointed me so hard, I still go beyond what I wanted to achieve just so you could, one day, settle to build a family with me,"

My chest heaved up realizing what it means. Yet I forced a braver heart.

"You got your wench, screwing you. Go on, marry her. I promise to not raise war,"

My insides revolted at my own words. I might not raise war on them. I might though, on myself.

"Damn, I got no woman" he breathed.

"How can I allow myself to have one when I'm this fucking madly smitten with you"

"I don't believe that-"

He groaned. The vibrations traveled from his chest to my own. "And baby that's why we didn't damn work the last time..."

My orbs turned into a darker shade of ocean at it. I tried to mask it but it was already late and he saw it.

He bit his lips.

"Don't talk to me as if we have not just had our toxic break-up,"

"I never agreed on that..."

"I don't need an approval," I rebutted, fuming still.

"We-"

"Stop talking to me. You mastered that for a long time."

He cursed under his breath and licked his lips, aghast. "Damn...it"

The priest recited a lot more things, and we remained listening, silently. I can sense his desire to negotiate a way but then my stare didn't allow him.

When the priest declared the same "you may kiss the bride" statement for the second time around, I got more uneasy.

He saw it. He didn't dare to move. My eyes flew to the crowd and his mom's eyes is what I immediately caught. She is watching us as if it's been a very long time.

Her tear ducts glistened the most brilliant moist as if she is now giving me the freedom to not marry his son.

She lightly nodded at me.

But despite it, my feet got prim to the ground.

"May I... " he whispered.

I...

I closed my eyes.

And he bent lower to soothe our hearts.

He is supposed to place it on my lips. I curled my toes when he got lower and settled on my throbbing neck. I tried to save my sanity by pinching the fabrics of his cufflinks.

His lips movement was shallow for seconds. His kisses were feathery as it was all lips and no tongue. When he delved deeper and got more aggressive, with tongue searching my aching pulse and teeth bit gliding on my throat, my hand shifted to curl into his coat.

Another heavenly minute and I halfheartedly did a weak push.

He left with damp lips. Once again I stared at it he tauntingly bit of it. Wetting it more.

"And I now pronounce you, husband and wife..."

And when our eyes met again, slowly, I felt him suiting his fingers in between mine.

"And I missed you so bad... baby, take me home" he breathed.