Page 37 of Point of No Return

“Tell me our parents won’t be joining us,” I tease quietly, and it actually gets a laugh from him, dark and smooth as velvet.

“If you wanted me all to yourself, all you had to do is ask.”

I’m tempted to shove him down a step, but I settle for patting his chest and smiling back at the camera. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an ass?”

“A couple of times.”

“And yet you remain unchanged. Fascinating.”

Music drifts from the reception hall, and I spot Liv making her way toward us. I’m grateful for the reprieve as we’re directed away from the photographers. Through the glass doors leading to the reception, I can see Westos’ finest lounging, dancing, exchanging fake niceties like its currency.

My heart hasn’t stopped racing. Liv is saying something about my introduction, something about what we’re meant to be doing. By the time I feel Skar beside me again, I’m too far gone to pay attention to anything other than how I feel. How itchy this dress is, how overwhelming it is to lie today. Everything is too much.

This day is supposed to be about love. It’s supposed to be about two people from two families joining into one. I’m supposed to be a blushing, doting bride. I’m supposed to be happy.

Instead, there’s only two things on my mind as I look at Skar: I don’t know how I’m going to make it through this day… and every minute that passes by is an inch closer that the blade to my throat presses in.

Chapter Eighteen

Charlotte

After our first dance, which was tense to say the least, we’re left to wander around and greet our guests as they dance and gorge on food. I feel like a mess- only made worse by the fact that everytime I look at my newhusband, he has an easy smile on his face. He almost seems calm. Or at least, he can bluff his way through this far more easily than I can.

Damn him. Damn him and damn this family and screw this god damn wedding.

We cut cake and take enough photos to last a lifetime by the time darkness falls and the candles swimming across every surface are lit. Liv planned a series of games for the guests to play (which all include drinking) before the sendoff. But what I don’t expect is for this to be the moment that my parents, along with Tyson, swoop in.

“We just have one last thing to do,” Tyson grins.

I try not to stiffen when I notice my mother motioning us to follow after them. The room beneath the bridal suit, which I hadn’t paid much attention to before everything started, is almost completely dark when we step inside.

My stomach curls in on itself when I spot the small wooden altar at the far corner of the room, illuminated only by a few flickering candles. I freeze, dropping Skar’s hand as Tyson limps toward the altar. My parents follow behind.

“What is this?”

My father reaches for a blade from the table at the same moment Tyson withdraws one from his suit. My stomach twists, and I glance at my mother as they turn on me.

This is a joke. This is some kind of sick joke.

Eva Orlova’s face reveals nothing. “Westlan tradition states that the bride and groom must share blood on their wedding night.”

I swallow the lump in my throat as Tyson unsheathes his blade. I back away a step. “I’m not doing that.”

Damn propriety, damn the rules. I won’t.

“Charlotte,” my mother snaps, but I’m surprised when my father steps in:

“This is the way things are done.”

“When your blood is shared, the marriage will be complete,” Tyson explains, extending a hand toward Skar as my father motions toward me.

Skar’s usual frown is back, and he looks just as confused as I am.As if he didn’t know this was going to happen.

But that can’t be true, right?

“She’s not Westlan.”

Tyson’s voice is hard, a command, an order. “She is marrying a Westlan. She will be Westlan. This is the way things are.”

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