Page 12 of Star Crossed Delta
SABA
T he wedding celebration ended with a song of blessing from the luminary.
The ancient melody flowed over them and trailed away.
Saba took her groom’s hand, who led her out of the banquet tent and into the night.
Behind them, the guests raised their voices in ululation and well-wishes, showering them with bioluminescent confetti and ivory-white, freeze-dried flower petals from crystal cannons.
As they walked down the candlelit path back to his lodge, Saba once again cursed Shiloh.
And the fokkin ’ predicament and life sentence she now had to live under.
She wasn’t entirely to blame.
Her oldest sister, Suri, had the honor of starting the ball rolling on this shit show.
She’d almost ruined their family with her choices so long ago.
Seven years ago, after years of vacillating, she ran away from her kin, duties, and engagement to the ?ar-in-Waiting .
Which, in turn, relegated Shiloh to the role of the betrothed bride-to-be.
For seven more years, her twin existed in limbo, promised to Mak.
Saba had been free of those obligations until now.
While those two now walked unfettered, she was the one now trapped by promises made over fourteen years in the past.
Beside her was her husband, a man she was scarcely acquainted with.
He ignored her for the most part, yet his hand remained firm over her arm.
She kept one foot in front of the other, her view blurring into a swirl of light, her mind immersed in worry and dreaded anticipation.
All she wanted was some reassurance he’d be merciful to her, some hope to hold onto. Instead, a cold, unspoken silence hung between them and the unknown of their new life.
In half an hour, they arrived at what was to be her next home.
Mak helped her up the steps to the lodge, his face shrouded in an expressionless mask.
He took her arm and led her once more into the spacious living area, and they ascended the grand staircase.
Striding long, Mak led her into an almost magical setting. Even though exhausted, she gasped at the otherworldly beauty along the hall.
Artwork and stonework lined the gallery, crafted from sculpted marble and dark timber.
Saba marveled at the exquisite wood on a dreadnought ship, in awe of the unbelievable surroundings.
A series of expansive, well-appointed chambers flanked the long landing.
Sand-washed walls displayed jeweled mirrors and elegant paintings.
Yet with every step, Saba wanted to fly back down these stairs and into the night, as panic threatened to consume her whole.
She glanced at Mak, his eyes closed, hoping for mercy for her sins.
She wondered if Mak’s softening at the wedding ceremony meant he was willing to be lenient with her. If only they could make each other happy, they would win against the secrets, lies, and betrayals waging a war between them.
Grand doors swung open along the sumptuous corridor to reveal the opulent bed chamber.
Mak moved with rapidity toward it as her heart hammered away.
She almost tripped at the threshold, entering a room adorned with intricate tapestries and warm candlelight, which glowed over everything it touched.
Mak came to an abrupt stop, staring at the massive bed.
A canopy of gold-infused silk, hanging from the ceiling, fell over the sprawling expanse of plush velvet and satin, embellished with patterns and soft cushions.
It beckoned them to lie down and surrender to its decadent embrace.
To dream.
His face froze as he stared at her as if reading her thoughts. A cascade of emotions crowded over his face.
Her stomach twisted in apprehension and compassion.
Today, his promise of a bride he could love had been dashed.
That much was evident now that he had little to hide from her.
‘My safin .’
She slowly blinked.
‘Now,’ he growled, his diamond-tipped incisors flashing.
She unwound his cloak from her shoulders and handed it to him, shards of agony going through her at the raw symbolism.
He was withdrawing his protection over her.
‘The veil, too.’
She startled and then realized what his eyes were fixed on.
The diaphanous shroud was still anchored on her head and trailing to the floor behind her.
She hesitated, and his eyes flashed.
‘Give it to me. Those diamonds were the bride price I paid for you.’
‘I’m meant to hand it over to my uncle,’ she whispered.
He gave a deep laugh, a growled rumble laced with bitterness. ‘No fokkin ’ way now I’ll allow you. Not after all your lies and deception. Pass it to me.’
A shiver ran down her spine, his words cutting through their charade of the last few hours, leaving them both bare to their despair.
Without a word, she reached up and untangled the delicate diamond-lined veil from her hair, handing it to him with trembling hands.
His fingers brushed hers, sending a jolt of electricity through her.
He snatched it from her, his gaze never leaving her face.
In one swift movement, he flung it across his shoulder.
Shards of gem illumination lit up the thick lace fabric as it fluttered through the air, coming to rest on his flank like a ghostly wraith.
She studied him in silence, unsure what to make of this sudden display of ire.
As he turned back to her, his eyes burned with fierce intensity.
Within, she spotted an emotion in him that she had not glimpsed before.
A raw, infuriated pain at their trapped circumstances that mirrored her own.
‘I hoped for many years that my marriage would have been more than about the exchange of diamonds,’ he growled, rough with rage.
‘Yet your family’s persistent efforts to thwart me, your repeated cruelty and trickery, have transformed my heart into a desolate, arid wasteland.
You have taught me that all I should care for is this shroud, this crown of savage wrath, and nothing more.
I cannot pretend I feel nothing but contempt for you all.
I don’t believe I can trust you now, Saba Lisades, let alone sleep with you.
So for now, there is no freakin’ wedding bedchamber.
Keep this room, it’s yours. I’ll be sleeping in the primary,’ he growled.
She gazed at him, biting her lip to stop from moaning, less about how his words shredded her and more for the utter bleakness in his eyes.
‘I don’t want to speak with or see you. That may change; however, for now, this is the only choice you have left me.’
He swiveled on his heel, the mantilla floating alongside his cloak on his shoulder, and charged through the doors.
Saba’s eyes smarted as he tracked away, veil and mantle billowing behind him.
His was no triumphant march.
His shoulders bowed like those of a man burdened by rage and betrayal, and his walls were high and firm enough to keep her at arm’s length.
She wanted to call out after him, but pride held her back.
She would not beg.
She would not put any pitiful effort into upgrading her status nor groveling her way into his affections.
Or trying to change his mind that she was not just a manipulative, conniving shrew but a woman worthy of his respect. What use would it be?
She had to be real. She was the villain in this story, the perpetrator in this tragedy, not Mak.
He would probably never value or love her after the stunt she pulled, joining in a plot to manipulate a man and marrying through subterfuge, dishonesty, and deception.
The guilt ate away at her, for she considered herself an intelligent woman, well aware of the folly and demise of any misguided woman who used manipulation and lies to trap a man. Whether through sexuality, duplicity, or even baby trapping.
Saba was acquainted with a few girls who’d attempted it.
Their shallow plans most times backfired, and misery followed when they became a non-cherished obligation to the man they duped.
This fate also led to profound repudiation and was not worth the fleeting sense of victory or gratification it provided.
Still, she was now lumped with them, and as the thought hit hard, she started to hyperventilate.
With a cry, she searched the room for an escape.
She found a set of doors leading to what appeared to be a patio.
She rushed to them and flung them open, stumbling outside to the fresh air.
Mak’s outright anger and rejection landed with a gut punch.
Breathing in harsh gasps, she bent over the railing, eyes unseeing to the horizon.