Page 140 of Fierce Pursuit

I stiffened, my fingers crushing the delicate lace of the dress.

"I’m sorry," she added quickly. "I know she was yoursister. But for us, it gave Kostya his freedom back. He wouldn’t give that up again so easily unless he wanted to."

My stomach twisted. "So because he’s willing to be shackled to me, I should be grateful that he’s forcing me into this?"

"No." Yelena shook her head. "What I’m saying is that you should understand that the way Kostya treats everyone else is not the way he’s going to treat you. You have a voice. Once this is settled and your life is no longer in danger, he can be reasoned with."

She held my eyes in the mirror, her expression softer now, almost pleading. "He’s not going to want to keep you locked away in some tower like a fairy-tale princess. He’s a man that adores you, not a dragon holding you against your will."

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "But this is against my will," I shot back. "I’m not getting married. Why won’t anybody listen to me? Why is everyone acting like this is perfectly normal?"

Samara’s gaze was steady, unflinching. "Because in our world, it is," she said simply.

Then, as if I had already surrendered, as if the fight had already left me, she lifted a delicate bridal crown from Nadia’s hands and placed it onto my head.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to tear the crown off, rip the veil from my hair, throw the entire display of lace and silk to the floor and run.

But I didn’t.

Because I knew—deep in my bones—I wouldn’t make it past the door.

They wouldn’t listen.

They wouldn’t understand.

Their world, the world they had chosen, revolved around men who took what they wanted. And they loved them for it.

I had seen it in their eyes when they spoke about their husbands, in the soft, adoring way their lips curled when they reminisced about their courtships—if you could even call them that. They had surrendered to this life, and they were happy.

And deep down, I knew that was how I wanted to look at Kostya.

But that didn’t mean I was okay with having my life decided for me.

Maybe if he had asked.

Maybe if he had explained why he wanted to marry me, if he had told me what this marriage was meant to be—real or not. Hell, if he had just asked me where I wanted to live, I would probably be more open to all of this.

But he hadn’t.

Because my wants, my choices, my future were not mine to decide.

Veronika had told me once, and I hadn’t understood then.

But I did now.

A gilded cage wasstilla cage.

"You look beautiful," Nadia murmured, stepping beside me.

I blinked back the still-threatening tears.

A delicate veil had been pinned behind the crown,cascading down my back in waves of sheer ivory. My reflection looked back at me, a vision of the perfect bride.

Elegant.

Demure.

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