29. till death

29

till death

Lucynda

October 19th

Today is the day.

I should be nervous, flustered, anxious. But the only feeling flooding my mind is the one of pure ecstasy from last night.

Rivian left me in that room. My dress shredded and my pride shot. I won't lie, it hurts. But that was his way of making sure I don't try to test him again. He was trying to teach me a lesson and it worked. I made him kill that man. He didn't like that. Because the blood on his hands was incredibly hard to resist and he could have easily been charged with treason. But he made it justifiable. He created a reason.

As scary as it was, it turned me on. And when he led me to the secret throne room, he pulled my desires out of me just to leave me in the throes of my sinful demise.

It took me a cold shower and a few hours of no sleep thinking over the fact that I gave him a reason to question someone; I forced his hand and he willingly showed it to me.

Over the course of the last few days, I've been sure about two things: I want Rivian and I want to become queen. I've never been more dead set on a decision in my life. I want this and I want this with him.

"It's time to prepare for your day, Miss Claire." A sweet voice cracks from behind the door as a soft knock raps against the wood. It's Natasha.

I yawn as I sit up in bed, still feeling the glow of my night last night, relishing in the way he made me feel even after he left me.

Claimed .

Natasha and I spend the rest of the day getting ready for my wedding. Breakfast was catered to me an hour after another shower and then my nails were painted for me.

I will say it is rather strange to have things done for me like this, seeing as I’ve done everything for myself since I was five. But as a servant gets down on her knees to paint my toenails, I can't deny that it makes me feel special and pretty to be pampered because I know it’s all for Rivian.

Once the tedious tasks were done, I was reminded to take my second birth control pill and then Natasha helped with my hair, which we decided looked better down and slightly graced with loose curls. We kept the makeup light with simple mascara and a little bit of eyeshadow. Then she applied lipstick over my lips, a dark blood red that looked almost black amongst the shadows. I wanted something to match his suit.

Before I knew it, it was time to put on the dress.

I let Natasha pull the material up my body as I stepped into it and fixed my arms into the mesh sleeves. They only go about halfway up my arm, and despite the shivers I get from the cold air, I love the way it leaves my upper shoulders, clavicle, and neck open to view.

Natasha tightens the corset as she weaves the strings in their rightful places and pulls, cinching me in, lifting my breasts, and tying the strings in their final place.

I look in the mirror, the final look reflecting back at me.

"You look beautiful, Miss Claire," Natasha compliments me. We share a smile and I thank her for all that she’s done.

She makes sure I have everything I need before walking away and seeing herself out. "Troian will be up shortly to gather you. Congratulations, Miss Claire." I give her a courteous nod of appreciation before she closes me in my room by myself.

I stare at the girl in the mirror feeling mixed emotions about what’s to happen within the next hour.

On one hand, I feel beautiful and I feel excited to start this new chapter of life. I’m open to endless hope, knowing anything is better than the life I suffered through before. It has to be.

On the other hand though, I feel conflicted. I know I will have no one in the chairs waiting for me as I walk the aisle. I have no family or friends. I'll be walking down by myself and though I am about to become a queen, the idea that loneliness will greet me still settles deep into my soul.

I twist the placeholder diamond on my finger trying to quell my unease. Everything will be okay.

"Holy shit." A familiar voice breaks me out of my trance, and I look in the mirror to see Troian approaching me from behind.

I smile, because that's exactly how I pictured her to greet me in this moment.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this, Lucynda? I mean you look beautiful and I am a big fan, but I still don't know how Rivian is going to react." She leans against the wall, her black hair tied up in a fancy, loose-curled bun and her peach-colored dress creates curves on her that I had no idea she was hiding. Tattoos cover her left arm, again, something she was hiding under all her clothes, and her blue eyes glisten against the only color I've seen her wear.

I turn to look at my future sister-in-law.

"He's going to worship me in this dress," I say with a devious smirk on my lips. Maybe I'm feigning a little too much confidence. Maybe he'll get mad and rip me a new one, what's new? But as I swipe my hands downward against my dress, I can't help but feel sexy on my wedding day so I can only hope my husband will think so too and if I have nothing else, at least I’ll have that.

"You'll do fine," she tells me and I love the way she attempts to comfort me, likely sensing the gaslighting technique I try to pullover on myself.

I think of the ways my fiancé has made me feel like the most special woman in the world. The way Rivian let me make the decision to walk to the venue last night, how he didn't even bat an eye when I asked him for something I wanted. The fact that he’s killed for me, the way he worshiped me on the throne in that room, and the way he silently promises to make sure I know that with him, I am safe.

I feel the remnants of what feels like falling in love berate me, making my thoughts of hope twist into a severe form of chaotic need.

Needing to shake the ridiculous feelings, I turn to Troy to change the subject.

"What about you? Have you seen her yet?" My question causes Troy to deflate a little. She turns to look at me.

"Not yet. She wouldn't even see me when Trav took us to give her the invite."

I remember her telling me last night on our way back home about how Trav had found their mother. It was a shock considering I'd assumed just like everyone else that she had been dead. But no. She was alive this whole time and Travois had been hiding her away. Confirmation that he is, in fact, a dick.

"She might still show up," I try to reassure her as I reach out to pat her arm. "Don't give up hope."

In true Troian fashion, she feigns a sniffle and I smile at her perseverance.

"So about last night," she proceeds, bringing up the moment I saw her with a man, bleeding from his neck while she made out with another girl.

"I don't judge," I hold up my hands in mock surrender. "But does Rivian know you're-"

"Gay?" She finishes for me and I have to do everything in my power to prevent my jaw from dropping at her bluntness. "I screw around with boys occasionally, but they’re just that . . . boys. Rivian knows I'm gay. It's not a secret. He just doesn't know who I'm gay with." She says it with her whole chest, serious tones and everything.

It takes everything in me to not burst out laughing and I know she can tell I'm holding it in, so she gives me the go ahead as she belts out her own laugh.

We both crack up, bent over with our hands on our knees.

"That's the realest thing you've ever said," I tell her.

"Bitch, I keep it real twenty-four-seven, what are you talking about?" She clicks her tongue but then a look of instant regret washes over her face when she realizes she called her future queen a bitch.

But now it's my turn to bust out in full-blown laughter, and when I do, she joins me again.

It takes a minute for us to come back down to Earth but I don’t miss the enjoyment that comes from this moment. I haven’t had a laugh like that in forever and I mentally thank her for allowing me this reprieve from all of the intensity I’ve been invited to.

"Wait, so why can't he know who you're with?" I decide to ask, hoping to settle down the humor a bit, and Troy gives me a very cryptic glare before saying,

"That's a story for next time.” Her smirk tells me that something dramatic hangs in the air at her admission and it makes me more curious about her rendezvous. But she steps forward and reaches her hand out, signaling me that it’s time to go.

“It's time to get you hitched, your highness."

Anxiety finally attacks me; I feel every kind of emotion one can imagine as I stand beyond the curtain that leads me to my forced fate. A fate that I decided to accept because it's the only way to guarantee I'll have any kind of chance at a home and a family and more elusively . . . love.

But I am also drawn to the idea of power and respect, the reasons Rivian promised me to this life in the first place. But I won’t give up hope.

Nothing feels more real than being here, soon to be wed; to be someone's wife.

Troian smiles at me as her cue to head down the aisle arrives. "No matter what, you have me," she whispers before she walks away, and I can't help but feel that she means those words because she's not normally the sentimental type.

I take a deep breath and allow myself to feel worthy of this moment, even though I'm only here because a vampire killed my father and decided that I was his soulmate. The events that have perspired afterward are a bit of a fever dream compared to this moment right now.

The music that cues my time starts to fade in and I take one last deep breath before pushing through the curtain to face my future husband.

I step out onto the little path between two giant seas of people; over a hundred attendees who seem to have their eyes wide, their mouths hanging open and some even audibly gasp at my appearance.

The Hollows Trace Society.

I don't recognize any faces, only Kacian who is off on the side, and Troian who is now standing up at the top left of the altar.

Troian's eyes move from me to the same blonde she was with last night, who sits a few rows back on my left and I grow curious about their story. Before I can look away, the blonde turns her eyes on me and pins me with something that exudes hate. What is her problem?

I hold the bouquet of black roses in my hands, pressed against my chest, as I take one slow step after another.

The roses are symbolic and I do love that he included that small gesture into this day, even knowing that I once dreaded the arrival of his elusive floral gift. Only to realize I craved it all the same and having them here now is a thoughtful act of his dedication toward me.

I only take a second to skim the room before everyone stands, nearly startling me, before I continue walking.

I find myself slowly making my way down while searching the room for the little details I’ve grown to admire, examining the decor and aesthetic of my wedding day.

The Hollows Cathedral has a vintage yet pristine feel to the space that surrounds us. White flowers line the ceiling as gold accents cover the chairs and the walls. I hear a water fountain gently splashing somewhere beyond the standing crowd, creating a serene ambiance of wedded bliss as I make my way to my king. The altar at the end that waits for me is an arch covered in more white florals and gold lace intertwined into green vines. A priest stands just under it, waiting for my arrival.

I can't see Rivian, though, assuming he's hidden behind the crowd of people who stand for my walk on top of red silk beneath my feet.

Suddenly, as I let out the breath I was holding, the crowd sits down and I feel his eyes on mine before I see them. I try to avoid his glare, looking to the right of him, a man I've never seen before stands by his side. He's got dark hair like Rivian and hazel eyes, the gold and greens blending together nicely. He gives me a polite nod and a smile when I realize I'm spending too much time analyzing this stranger in order to avoid Rivian's heated gaze, which I turn to confirm is true.

He looks so fucking good standing there in his dark maroon tux. A chain hangs from his right breast-pocket, his hands clasped in front of him.

When I look up at his eyes, feeling my chest rise and fall against the roses I seem to be hugging onto for dear life, I see that his eyes pin me darkly; those forbidden smoke tendrils swim in the whites around his darkened irises. I feel my heart pound in my chest, a warning that this is it.

After tonight, nothing will ever be the same.