Hey guys! Thank you to those of you who have been with me since the beginning, I know it's been a long wait, but I hope this is worth it! Happy reading!
xx Hatter
Manon Blackbeak wouldn't remember much of the wedding itself. She wouldn't remember the delicate gossamer drapery, hung between beautiful white pillars that were adorned with arrangements of white peonies and roses that enclosed the space for the ceremony. She wouldn't remember the wooden pews, also adorned with the flower arrangements, elegant in their simplicity. And she definitely wouldn't remember the white linen cloth that lined the space between the seating and that ultimately led to the makeshift altar where her husband-to-be stood with his groomsmen, her bridesmaids, and the priest.
She'd barely pay attention as the twinkling notes of one song would change to a different, more delicate piece, signaling that it was the bride's—her turn—to walk. She'd barely feel like she was in her own body as her grandmother gave her a gentle nudge to move. She'd barely breathe as she began to walk down the aisle, until…
Until her eyes met Dorian's and she saw his face. Dorian Havilliard was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, but more so in this moment than any other. He looked absolutely dashing in his suit, the lines cut to fit him perfectly, and as she drank him in hungrily, Manon managed to find her way back to her body. And when she saw what was in his eyes—mirrored in her own, no doubt—all she wanted to do was skip to the end and have him all to herself. But it occurred to her that he wanted this ceremony, wanted to declare to the world that she was his, and he was hers. And she suddenly remembered that she was a warrior queen, she could do anything. She could do this.
Manon's breathing leveled out, and she began to feel settled for what felt like the first time since she'd lost her Thirteen, and she knew in her heart that they were there with her, smiling so wickedly in triumph because she had done it—she'd chosen love and become the witch they'd laid down their lives for. Before she could even begin to consider what it all meant, she was being handed off to Dorian. Her grandmother kissed her on the cheek and went to stand at the front pew.
The priest began, "Dearly beloved," and everyone was seated.
…
Dorian Havilliard's heart stopped beating. He'd felt impatient as the beginning of the ceremony unfolded, watching with veiled amusement as he saw his friends and family walk down the aisle and join him at the altar.
Aelin's smile as she walked with Rowan had been sweet, and if that hadn't already unsettled him, Rowan's feral one definitely finished the job.
Lysandra and Aedion had always made a handsome couple, but when he saw the way they looked at each other, he fought the urge to tap his foot in impatience.
Chaol and Yrene made their way down the aisle next. Chaol smiled at him warmly and Yrene's grin was the biggest he'd ever seen. Again, he fought the urge to tap his foot.
The rest of the wedding party made their way down the aisle in their respective pairings, and Dorian started to wonder if it was possible to die of impatience.
Finally, finally, he saw her. She appeared at the top of the walkway, and the first thing he saw was the white. As his gaze travelled upward, he took her in as if he'd never seen her before, not truly. She was otherworldy in her beauty, as she'd always been, but something was different. She was radiant, and he felt completely and utterly entranced. All he wanted to do was grab her and flee so far away that no one would find them for a long, long while. But then his eyes found hers, and all the thoughts emptied out of his head completely. And when she smiled at him? It was a miracle he didn't have a heart attack right then and there.
As his future queen made her way down the aisle, he realized how ready he was. Ready to wake up with her every morning, to hold her in his arms; ready to fight with her, to fight for her; ready to make love to her because he'd never ever have enough.
Dorian was bewitched by her every step, and savored this unending moment. He suddenly felt the warmth of the sunlight on his back, a gentle presence that strengthened him further. Sorscha was here with him, and he knew with absolute certainty that she wouldn't be anything other than happy for him. A tear slid down his cheek, but he ignored it because Manon was in front of him and they were doing it—From this day forward, Manon Blackbeak would be his wife.
And wasn't that the most beautiful thing?
