Murmurs of alarm from the crowd fill my ears.
My footfalls falter. The dragon shifts, sending roof tiles crashing into to the courtyard.
Run.
The word repeats with every frantic beat of my heart. The prince scowls at my hesitation. He strides to me and seizes my arm. I am so tired of being grabbed and coerced into doing things. The only person I want touching me like that is Killian, and he’s gone.
“Forget the ceremony,” Alistair snarls at the wizened priest. “Get to the rings bit before that thing takes off the roof.”
“But you must take your vows or it isn’t binding.”
“Then say it quickly.”
“Do you, Prince Alistair of Belterre, take this woman, Princess Aurora of?—”
“Yes. I agree to all of it. Now do her.”
His hand clamps mine hard enough to crush my fingers.
“Do you, Princess Aurora, take this man to be your lawfully wedded?—”
“No.”
The word comes out quietly, too soft for anyone but the three of us to hear it. The priest pokes his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and stares at me in astonishment. Prickles run down my spine as if a thousand eyes are boring into my back, which they are.
Overhead, the noisy monsters fall silent. Listening.
If I want to escape this nightmare, I have to make a choice. I have to speak up. I can’t wait to be rescued anymore.
“What did you say?”
Aware that we’re being watched, Alistair is careful not to hurt me too much. His fearsome glower and iron grip almost cow me into submission. I swallow thickly, and feel that voiceless thing inside me spread its wings.
“No. I won’t marry you.”
I break his grasp with a twist of my arm that leaves my empty glove dangling from his hand.
“I don’t want to be your princess. I don’t want to be a queen. I only want to be free of this fate once and for all.”
I rip the veil off and throw it at him, wincing as I yank fine hairs out in the process.
I pick up my frothy skirt and run.
The crowd gasps.
“Seize her!” Alistair shouts. I bolt down the aisle back the way I came, but the way is blocked by royal guards.
Damn it. Trapped.
People spill into the aisle, craning their necks to glimpse the catastrophe of a bride and impeding the prince’s pursuit. I pull a chair near the window and climb.
Help me,I call to the monsters.
A warning thump against the window drops me into a crouch, hands clasped over my head. Glass smashes. Wood splinters. People scream. I cover my ears as shards rain down on me. When it’s clear, I rise, taking in the tip of a dragon’s tail curling through the window.
A red-faced Alistair fights his way through the terrified, retreating crowd.
Calm settles over me.
