Authors: Nicole Williams
I gave up on walking, breaking into a run over the remaining distance keeping us apart”I wasnt about to let my pastry of a dress stop me. Id no more come to a stop at the absent alter as Wil iam turned to me. He was smiling, like it was the happiest day of his existence . . . but it wasnt his mouth or his nose or his eyes”those eyes Id memorized so long ago they were more familiar than my own. Wil iams dark hair faded to a pale blond, fal ing straighter and longer until the man standing before me held nothing left of the man I loved.
Forever, Patrick said, drawing my hands into his.
And thats where the nightmare stopped, rewinding back to me walking clueless down the organic aisle towards the wrong man. This was
exactly
the thing I didnt need right now. Whatever confidence Id mustered up this morning had vanished, leaving me behind with more uncertainty and near panic than Id felt yet.
I couldnt jump out of bed fast enough, not sure Id ever return to it, just in case it was infected with bad dreams. Thankful Id showered earlier, perhaps knowing it was likely Id sleep late, I rushed to the closet, flinging open the door. I went straight for the shelving unit where my surplus of jeans hid. My hands fel on empty space. My jaw dropped when I saw not a single pair of jeans was left and I didnt have the typical excuse of not doing laundry to blame. Cora. I growled it like a curse word, just as I found a folded note in place of where my beloved jeans had once always been there for me.
Nice try, Bryn. Put on the dress. Now. Or else youll never see your denim friends again.
Love Ya!
Cora
Dont you grumble at me. Its for your own good. I have to save you from your own fashionflawista tendencies.
I grumbled anyways, col apsing down to the ground in my aggravation. I couldnt handle the gown Cora had hanging from its garment bag in the dead center of my closet. I doubted my ability to make it through the night without having a breakdown of epic proportions. I certainly didnt need the added complication of keeping my breathing minimal thanks to the confines of a too-tiny dress. Wil iam loved me, dress or no dress. I didnt care about what anyone else thought.
The scattered lingerie bags in the back of my closet caught my eye, not because I needed to unwil ingly model any more of it, but because the day Id purchased the mass of it, Id also picked out a new pair of jeans. Cora had been in the kitchen gadget/machinery/weaponry store when I got them, so she couldnt know they were there . . .
Quick as lightning, I plunged my arms into the mountain of bags, upending them al until the dark denim dropped out of one. Yes! I shouted, raising them to the sky like they were holy. Take that, Cora Hayward. You may try to put a wedge between jeans and me, but you shal fail.
I popped to a stand, squeezing into them before Cora caught word of them on the wind and pried them out of my hands. There wasnt much hope she wouldnt try pul ing them off my body if she found me in this state of fashion incompetence, so I needed to get to the Bal and fast. Even Cora wouldnt cause a scene of jean rage in the middle of her Al iance.
I buttoned up a white linen blouse to the point of decency, but left a couple undone so the sapphire necklace would be on ful display. Wil iams promise months back that this night would come. I pul ed on my brown leather boots and made a run for the front door, peeking over my shoulder every few steps to make sure Cora wasnt expecting this kind of a betrayal from me, waiting to pounce on me.
I broke into an Immortal-speed run as soon as I was through the front door. I emptied my mind of everything except the feel of the night air breaking over my face and the way the ground gave a little at each of my hurried lunges. My confidence may have been next to non-existent regarding how tonight was going to go, but that didnt mean I had to think about it.
The white tent was glowing like something from a dream, obvious in the dark night even from acres away. My throat went dry, knowing the man I loved and the man Id be Betrothed to were waiting inside that tent. I prayed theyd be the same man.
The music streaming from it hit me next, a familiar tune I couldnt name weaving through the Haywards estate, greeting the last few guests trickling into the tent. As I crested the last hil above Charles home, I could see from the acres lined with cars that I was late. Immortals observed punctuality like it was next to godliness. It seemed odd to me that beings who lived forever thought being on time was so important. Its not like they were going any where . . . ever.
I walked the rest of the way to the tent, using those precious seconds to pul back my shoulders and hold up my head. If my Council had decided upon upending my future with a technicality, I wasnt going to give them the pleasure of knowing how much theyd beaten me.
There was a perimeter of guards surrounding the tent, spaced every twenty feet or so. Seemed like overkil to me, but if John was eager to get to the Haywards and me, I knew his ego was more than capable of ordering an attack the night of our Al iances Betrothal Bal . Had just the kind of melodramatic flair he ate up.
A couple of guards at the entrance offered me a contrived smile as I made my way in, taking in one final breath of air for good measure. Id gotten no more than a few feet inside the tent glowing with its paper lanterns strung by yours truly when everyone within viewing distance decided to turn their attention to me. Brows arched and tilted, eyes and jaws dropped, fol owed by noses turning their way north, al brought on after my Bal attire was taken in.
At the last Bal , Id stood out because everyone anticipated I was John Townsends Betrothed-to-be; at this one I stood out because I looked like the vagrant that had just wandered into some swanky hotel. I wasnt sure which instance was worse, which was kind of sad considering John Townsend had to be high up on the list of replacements for the lord of the underworld.
I wanted to cross my arms in the worst way, to fold up into myself, but I held my stance, playing the confidence card for al it was worth. I couldnt let anyone make me feel unworthy without my consent; thats what my mother had quoted to me over and over again, even when I rol ed my eyes at her in my teen years, but it was the only thing getting me through this. Even in death, my parents were stil looking out for me and it was this reminder that warmed my heart, reminding me I only cared about the opinions of those I loved. Everyone else could think, stare, and sneer at me to their hearts fil .
A form cut through the jaw-dropped gapers, instantly making me forget every last one of them save for him. Wil iam rushed towards me, stopping inches from me. He was so close I could feel the heat radiating from him. He took me in purposeful y, unapologetic as his eyes roamed down the length of my body. You look breathtaking, he whispered.
You too. Tuxedo becomes you, I whispered back, thankful Id been able to form words with Wil iam packaged in clothing that made him so achingly sexy I wanted to tear it off of him.
Il be right back, he said, winking as he jogged towards the exit.
My look of confusion was al I had for him. Hed likely just gotten here,
Id
just gotten here, and he was leaving. Already the night was off to a rocky start. Never a good thing to see the man you loved running in the opposite direction.
Five minutes, he mouthed, flashing one hand with his fingers spread wide.
Hurry, I mouthed back, plastering on a smile when my mouth closed. Most of the unwanted attention had fol owed Wil iam out the door, mine included, and didnt return to me once he disappeared. My goodness that man had perfect timing.
I turned to wander around the outside of the tent as the center was packed with bodies mil ing around, glasses in hand, chatting as they complimented the over-the-top décor thanks to none other than Miss Jean-Thief herself . . .
Cora! I jolted like my hand had been slapped as a five foot nothing figure planted herself in front of me, fuming in a twinkling gown and a French twist.
I am never talking to you again, she seethed. You hear me? Never again.
I opened my mouth to respond, but she was on a rol . What is this exactly? she said, gesturing up and down my body.
Eh, clothing? I responded, looking down to make sure her and I were seeing the same thing.
Wel , its hideous and utterly inappropriate for the second biggest night of your existence. Her hands were bouncing on her hips”she was reaching her upper agitation limit. Once the foot-tapping accompanied the peaked brows, wide eyes, flushed skin, and hip holding, it was downhil from there. Where, might I ask, is the vintage Chanel evening gown I had over-nighted from Paris the day after I found out you would be Betrothed so it could be painstakingly hand-tailored for you?
Shed put a lot of effort, thought, time, and likely money into the dress I hadnt even bothered to take a look at. I immediately regretted my decision to not at least have taken a peek at the gown”I owed her that. Let me offer you a heartfelt ˜Im sorry before I answer that, I said, putting my words together careful y because Coras silk wrapped frame was nearing its eruption point.
Where. Is. It? The words seeped between her clenched teeth.
I winced preemptively. Back in my room? I was incapable of making a reply without ending it with a question mark when Cora was like this.
I am going to go get that dress right now. She bobbed her finger to the beat of her words. And you are going to wear it. End of story.
Man, Ive got good timing. Im not sure if Patrick had crept up behind me by teleporting or using his own two legs because Id been too caught up in Coras one sided cat fight. End of story with this conversation”he pointed between the two of us before gesturing between me and him”beginning of story for our conversation. Without another word, Patrick clasped my hand in his, pul ing me away from Cora without apology.
I am not done with her, Patrick Hayward, Cora cal ed out after us.
Without slowing or looking back, Patrick answered, Give it a rest, Cora. Ive got something of actual importance I need to discuss with Bryn.
Im not sure if Cora had a response for that”but I guessed she did and it wasnt cordial”because Patrick pul ed me down the narrow canvas hal way leading into the outdoor tent equivalent of a coat closet.
Whats going on? I asked like I had no clue, although I had a rather large one.
He didnt answer, he just kept marching forward until we were swimming in an ocean of varying shades of dark-colored wool and silk jackets.
Enough with the drama already, Patrick, I snapped, pul ing my hand away from his, although the death-grip he had it in didnt loosen, but he stopped. Youre freaking me out.
He spun around, his face as intense as Id ever seen it. Super, this night had just gone from the outside to the inside ring of hel . Sorry. Im not trying to freak you out, he said, letting go of my hand to run it through his perfectly straight hair. Ive been trying to get a minute with you al day, but since youve done an exemplary job of avoiding me”his eyes accused me in unison with his tone”I had to resort to extreme measures because Ive run out of time. Ive got to say this to you before or else youre never going to believe me, he finished, peering up at me like he was scared to make eye contact.
Before what exactly? I had no problem making eye contact with him, glaring my warning his way.
He blew out a long puff of air. Before were Betrothed.
CHAPTER SIX
MRS. (FILL IN THE BLANK) HAYWARD
I took a step back, my glare fal ing to the floor. I dont know what youre talking about. Wil iam and I are being Betrothed tonight.
Patrick let out a single note of laughter. Sure, honey. Keep tel ing yourself that. Too bad youre going to be crashing back down to reality in about thirty minutes.
I took another step back, crashing into a rack of coats. Patrick righted me, then the rack, before both spil ed to the ground. Im warning you right now, Patrick, I said, snapping my arm back from his grip.
Oh, shut up, Bryn, Patrick said, squeezing his eyes closed. You might be able to pul this demanding crap on my brother, but youve met your match in me.
Dont do this, I begged.
Patrick continued, I need you to stay quiet for one minute, sixty seconds, so I can get this out. Think you can manage that?
No, Im certain I cant manage that, I said, doing my best impersonation of looking tough. Especial y if what you want to say to me has anything to do with the crazy talk you prior mentioned.
He rol ed his eyes, unaffected at my best attempts at toughness. Youre not going to stay silent and listen to what I have to say?
No. You have some sort of handicap that prevents you from comprehending
no
the first time? My tone was toxic, but stil , Patrick remained undeterred.
Fine, if you wont cooperate, Il have to help you in experiencing the whole silence is golden motto.
I turned to leave, sure I couldnt handle another word from him, when he suddenly appeared in my path, this time aided by teleportation without a doubt. Without warning, his hand covered my mouth, effectively silencing my rebuttal. Im sorry I have to do this, but I have to say this to you first or else youl never believe me after the fact.
If I wouldnt have been so surprised by his hand clamping over my mouth and his words, I would have been able to come up with some snarky comment to throw in his face, but it was when his forehead lined the way Id never seen it before that I knew I was in trouble.
Theres no roundabout way to say this, he said, staring without blinking into my eyes. I love you, alright? Now before you go al femme fatale on me, hear me out.
I wouldnt have been more shocked if hed just confessed a life of monk-like celibacy was for him. I wanted to break free and run away, forget this whole thing had happened, but Patricks vulnerability was magnetic.
He inhaled, the lines of his face ironing out. I know Im not what you want, I know that. I know my loves not good enough. I know
Im
not good enough, he paused, digging his tongue into his cheek. Regardless, thats the way I feel and I needed you to know. Im sorry. His apology was sincere, free of the usual Patrick undertone. Il see you out there. Releasing his hand from my mouth, he turned to leave me drowning in the sea of coats and recent revelations.