The vows echo in the air, distant and muffled, like a song I'm not meant to hear. My heartbeat is the only sound I can focus on, pounding in my chest so loudly it feels like the walls are shaking. The veil is heavy over my face, a weight I can't seem to escape, just like the tightness in my chest. I want to breathe to calm myself, but I can't.
Elijah's hand on mine feels heavy like fire licking against my skin. His grip is firm, so sure, sending shivers through me. But I don't dare pull away.
I can't.
The officiant is speaking again, but I don't hear a word. I'm lost in the weight of the moment—the suffocating reality of what's happening. I told myself I was doing this for Susan, for Mama, but now— now I'm not so sure.
I've been holding on to this illusion—the idea that I was stepping in for my sister, that this wasn't real, that no one would ever know the difference. But Elijah, he will know.
He will notice it in a split second, and I need to keep the mask tight up. I can not risk letting him know it's not Susan but me.
Not until Susan comes back for him and this marriage. I am sure she will come back, she'll have to.
I can't be a wife to Elijah, he's—I am just not right for him. Moreover, Susan claimed she liked him, and loved their time together.
There were rumors of him being ruthless to people who lied to him, and I cannot imagine being one of them.
Not my family either. I can only wish for Susan to come back before he notices any difference or anything.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," the officiant's words pull me back, back to the present, back to Elijah and the crowded hall.
I glance up at him, and the moment our eyes lock, something inside me falters. His gaze is cold, calculated—like he's stripping me bare with a single look, as though he knows every secret I've ever buried, every wrong I've ever committed. His lips curve into a smile, slow and unsettling, and I want to tear my eyes away, but I'm frozen. His stare is sharp and predatory, like a wolf closing in on its prey.
He steps in closer, close enough that his breath brushes my skin, warm and steady while mine comes in shallow gasps. I can feel the magnetic pull between us— something dark and undeniable. I shouldn't want this, I shouldn't want him, but my body betrays me, leaning into the space he invades.
His hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers weaving through my hair, curling possessively and sending shivers down my spine. His touch is firm and controlling.
Everything in me screams to resist—but I don't. I can't. I'm pulled closer, chest to chest, face to face.
Elijah's grip tightens at the nape of my neck, drawing me impossibly closer until there's no space between us. His breath skims my lips, and my heart hammers in my chest, a frantic rhythm that only seems to fuel the tension thickening the air around us.
I know what's coming, I can feel the weight of it hanging between us, and yet I still couldn't move.
He doesn't hesitate. His lips crash into mine with a force that steals the breath from my lungs.
It's not gentle. It's demanding and consuming. His mouth moves over mine, claiming me with a possessiveness that makes my knees weaken. The kiss isn't just a touch—it's a command, a silent declaration that he owns this moment.
He owns me.
I'm helpless to resist it. Heat surges through me, wild and uncontrollable, igniting a fire I've tried so hard to suppress. I know I shouldn't feel this way and should not let myself get lost in him, but the pull is too strong. Too strong for me to deny him.
My body betrays me, leaning into him, craving more of the intensity he brings. His hand slides from my neck to my lower back, pulling me tighter against him, and I can feel his heartbeat, steady and sure, in contrast to the chaos swirling inside me.
I want to push him away. I should fight this. But all I can do is drown in the kiss, in the way he consumes every inch of me, leaving no room for doubt, no room for escape.