Page 147 of Fearless

Nodding over my shoulder at him, I nearly stumble into my own wedding.

A plethora of light pink roses twine together to create a path down the center of the room. They climb up the dais, bursting into a bed of petals to pad our feet. Awe parts my lips at the twisted arch of foliage hanging above it all, a lacing of vines, roses, and drooping white flowers.

The pillars are covered in more of the same, their marble lost in the beauty choking them. Thick white ribbons string between the windows and dance alongside the intricate molding. The room itself glows in the setting sunlight, kissing every flower with a drop of warmth.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Thoroughly entranced by the ethereal expanse before me, I startle at Kitt’s words. “Yes, it’s… it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

His smile is faint. “You are happy with it?”

I had nearly forgotten what all this was meant for. At the reminder that he—the king—will be forever tethered to my soul at the end of this flowery path, I feel a bit faint.

“Mm-hmm.” The uncertain sound is all I can manage at the moment.

“Good.”

He steps closer. I fight to keep my feet from running out the doors.

Is he paler than usual? His lips are chapped, gaze bleary above them.

“I know this is a lot. But it will all be over soon.”

His words grow distant. And just like that, the walls are closing in.

I swallow, corset suddenly suffocating. “I’m okay. Just… have a lot on my mind.”

“I know the feeling,” he agrees. “This is not an easy…”

I don’t hear the rest of his words. No, my focus is wholly on those doors and the freedom beyond.

“I’m sorry,” I suddenly rasp, cutting off his muffled voice. “I think I just need some time alone.”

The twinge of confusion on his face has me attempting to soften my demand with a quick “I will see you tomorrow, though. And everything looks gorgeous.” Running sweaty hands down the front of my dress, I set an impressive pace toward the doors. “Thank you,” I call over my shoulder. “Truly.”

And when the king has disappeared from sight, I run toward that yawning, open air beyond the castle. I trip down the stairs after bursting through the doors. Wind claws at my hair as I step into the courtyard, dress rippling all around me.

Legs pumping, I run for the gardens, feeling freer than I likely ever will again. A rolling of dark clouds begins to smother the setting sun, covering it with the promise of rain.

Still, I run. From my fear. From my future. From my now.

The slippers on my feet beat steadily across the garden’s spiraling path. Petals brush playfully at my legs while thorns bite at the fabric encasing them.

Thunder rumbles in the distance.

Still, I run.

Past every crumbling statue, every soft flower bed, and every drop of water the fountain spits at me.

My feet meet the plush field of grass beyond and, still, I run—right to that willow tree. Rain splatters my face as I part the curtain of drooping leaves and duck beneath its refuge.

My heart stops at the same moment my feet do.

There he is, stunningly sprawled atop a large blanket.

I’m panting, heart pounding at the sight of its other half. Kai looksup at me, hands resting behind a head of black waves—I nearly fall to my knees before him. He has always been a prince, always a puppet for power or instrument of Death. But just as constant and formidably fierce, he has been my home.

In my search for comfort, it is him I crawl back to. Peace is the place he resides, and passion is a word I only understand when I look into his eyes. He is the freedom I cannot grasp.

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