Saba wanted to whisper an explanation in his ear, but the words wouldn’t form.
Partly because she was frozen in terror, and also because his lips, warm, hot, sensuous, were against her ear shell, giving off an enticing heat.
His gesture was that of a lover pulling his beloved into a tight embrace, a fact far from the truth.
His grip squeezed harder, not quite hurting her, but close to it. He was waiting, with impatience, for an answer.
Saba forced herself into the present, gripping his free hand and leaning in, fighting the panic that gnawed at her.
‘I am of House Lisades and can explain,’ she breathed, speaking fast but hushed, meant only for his ears. ‘But not here, not now. Not if you want to lose your dignity.’
Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weary burden of her all-night vigil spent spinning mental wheels, trying to find a way out of this predicament, without success.
Mak pulled back, his eyes boring into hers, searching for any hint of deception or evasion in her gaze.
For a moment, the world seemed to still around them, the whispers of the guests fading into a dull murmur in the background.
A flicker of frosty understanding passed through his eyes.
He straightened, his expression shifting from anger to a dead-cold calm.
The tip of his tongue eased from between his sensual lips, and he bit his lower lip as though to control himself.
The movement revealed his fangs, the legendary incisors inherited only by the Sauvage clan.
For a moment, she almost let out a moan, her instincts threatening to take over.
She took a ragged breath and blinked, aware her eyes were likely glassy and dilated.
As though sensing her inexplicable fear-lust, his eyes iced further in warning, somehow more dangerous than his rage.
Without a word, he tugged her hand back into his, a silent signal that he would indulge her, for now.
Saba darted a forewarning glance at her uncle, who was staring at her from his seat with disgust and indignation.
He eased back, trembling with fury, his face contorted in a blend of betrayal and disbelief.
She recognized his narrowed, embittered expression as his scheming fell apart before him.
His anger churned, and the puzzle pieces tumbled into place as he realized the extent of her deception.
Her treachery.
Her and Shiloh’s, to be exact.
However, there was no time for explanations now, no room for apologies or regrets.
‘Is everything in order?’ the Luminary muttered.
He and the congregation stared, mesmerized, eyes fixed on the couple with bated breath.
Saba imagined the skeptics and haters among them, eagerly awaiting any sign of a hitch in the otherwise perfect marriage ceremony.
A flutter of whispers rose, but they stopped when Mak swept his narrowed, cold-as-fokkgaze over the guests.
He offered them a savage smile before turning his handsome head to give the priest a tight nod.
The moment shattered.
