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.
‘Mysafin.’
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.
