Ariel' POV
My four brothers stand by my side within the wonderful vineyard Loretta and I chose as our wedding venue. A number of Loretta's friends are sitting before me, all of them whispering to each other. Their invitation only expressed that they were together welcomed by the Warren and the Rowans, but no specification was made of a wedding. We did it that way to guarantee our wedding couldn't be smashed by paparazzi, but it's worked in our favour in more than one way. I was expected to declare what they were here for the minute I took my place at the holy place, but how can I do it when I do not know who the bride will be? "It's for the best," Richard says, and Lucas gestures in assertion. "She might still alter her mind," I say, but they all shake their heads. "She won't," Pablo answers. "And sometime in the distant future, you'll thank her for it." Lyon eyes blazed with intensity as he looked at me.Whatever happens nowadays, Ariel, remember that you are a Warren, and none of us select our spouses. It's a convention that's served us well for centuries, so be courageous , okay?" I clenched my teeth and gesture. "I'll be beyond any doubt to remind you of that when it's your turn." Pablo is one of my siblings whose engagement was organized a long time prior as well. From my standing position, I can see his fiancee sitting in the back. I assume it's distinctive for them since Pablo doesn't live here. As long as I can remember, they were to see each other when Grandmother force them to meet, and on extraordinary events such as these. They've never dated, the way Loretta and I have. Richard murmurs and runs a hand through his hair. "Would it truly be so terrible to wed Arielle? How convenient it would be if l can take your place?" I tense, ruddy hot wrath hurrying through me as I turn to confront my brother. He takes in my expression and smiles intentionally. "What?" Richard inquires. "Can't stand the thought of Arielle being with anybody else? I thought you didn't need her as your wife?" "Fuck off," I snapped. The boys all chuckle at my outburst and I turn to face forward, disregarding them. The simple thought of Arielle with Richard pisses me off. I shouldn't feel any possessiveness toward her, but I do. Music begins to play and the entrance door swing open. Everything around me blurs as I hold up with bated breath. Did she change her mind? Without doubt, Loretta won't toss away a long time of arranging a future together, a long time of carefully sustaining our love.
I breathe in strongly when Arielle shows up after the passageway, on her father's arm. She stops mid-step, her eyes locked with mine as we understanding ourselves silently. I drive myself to grin at her. Arielle Rowan. Never in a million time did I think I'd found her strolling toward me, wearing a wedding dress that looked wonderful on her, but that wasn't planned for her. What must it feel like to walk in her sister's shoes? Everything about today isn't hers, not even the man she's wedding. Roland grins at me despite his grave expression and places Arielle's trembling hand in mine. I wrap my fingers around her hand and hold on to her firmly, my eyes trailing over her confront. She's shaking, and her look is filled with fear
and uncertainty as the officiant begins the ceremony. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of Arielle Rowan and Ariel Warren," he says, and we both breathe a moan of alleviation. My brother Lyon helped to inform him of change within the bride's title. I can't imagine how mortifying it would've been for both of us if he'd said Loretta's name. I fix my hold on Arielle's hand and draw circles over the back of her hand with my thumb, attempting my best to ease her uneasiness by one means or another. "Arielle," I whisper. She looks up sharply, reacting to my strong presence as her eyes assembly mine."You look breathtaking." A lot of pressure on her and she grins at me, truly this time. I can't accept my wedding Arielle. She's my sister's best friend and my ex's younger sister. She isn't supposed to be standing here with me in a wedding dress. However here we are. The deed has to be done.The Warrens do not do divorces. How much has she had to give up to be here with me? How much more will this marriage fetch us? The officiant tells us to exchange rings, and I flinch automatically. The wedding ring Pablo gave me is the one that Loretta chose. Arielle looks up at me with such torment in her eyes as I slide the lean clear jewel ring onto her fingers that I battle to breathe for a minute. It fits her impeccably, however, it feels so odd. Her hands shake as she slides my platinum band onto my finger, and she didn't even look me in the eye. It's clear that everything happening today is deplorable for her, and there's nothing I can do to make it better."You may now kiss the bride," the officiant says, and Arielle solidifies. I take a step closer to her and tenderly glaze her cheek dropping my temple to hers. "This is it," I whisper. "From this minute forward, you're my spouse. Mine to care for, mine to cherish, and mine to protect. I know this isn't what you would've needed for yourself, but I swear I'll give you my all, Arielle ."She pulls away a little to look at me, and after that she gestures, a little grin on her face. I grin at her as I incline in, my lips brushing against hers. It was implied to be a pure kiss, fair sufficient to if it's not too much trouble the swarm, but the minute my lips touch hers, all my great eagerly drop away. I string my hand through her long hair and yank her closer, taking her lips with a sense of edginess. She groans, and I drive her lips separated, extending our kiss. It's a guarantee of everything to come. She's my spouse now and I have deliberately treated her as such. This kiss could be a promise, it's consolation. From this day forward, I'm hers. It isn't what I needed, but we'll take the lead on it. Her cheeks are flushed and her lipstick is spread when I break the kiss, and I can't offer assistance but grin at her incapacitated expression, a indication of desire stowing away in her excellent hazel eyes. "Mr. and Mrs. Warren, everyone!" the officiant says, and we turn to face the cheering crowd. Grandmother gestures at us in fulfillment, but not one or the other of Arielle's parents can bear confronting her. I'm not astounded. They yielded her bliss in favour of their company. For a long time, they've dismissed her, and presently this? They owe her everything. "Come on," I tell her. "The faster we can finalize the marriage, the faster we get out of here."I do not need her investing a moment longer than vital in a dress that isn't hers, reenacting the wedding of her sister's dreams.