“Hot! Hot! Hot!” Maeve starts swirling around like a hamster on a wheel, and the fire moves even faster. She’ll get bad burns in a few seconds, so I need to act fast.
“Stop!” I bark and put my foot on the skirt. She keeps trying to move, but Noah does the same, and we both areable to stop her. I grab the waist of the skirt and try to rip it apart from her body. Little feather fireflies and gemstones or whatever the fuck they are fly away, igniting even more feathers on the way. It takes me a few seconds to try to get her rid of the flaming skirt, and it’s a few seconds too long.
Beatrice drops to her knees next to us, joining us in our attempts to throw sand onto the flames.
“Hot, Ezra! It’s hot!” Maeve cries out, her voice turning desperate.
My own blood is boiling as I’m ripping into many layers of the dress while Noah’s trying to do the same. It’s not working. The feathers catch fire too soon, erupting into little volcanic flames, making her squeal. Her scared voice makes me move faster. It’s taking too long. Might be too late.
“Move away,” I yell to Noah who instantly jumps back.
I grab her by her waist, reach the ocean in three long strides and throw her in the water. It’s not deep but she sinks to her waist. I’m next to her in a second, trying to rip the rest of the skirt away.
When it’s floating away, and I’m left with her trembling body in my arms, I let my eyes assess the situation.
Her hands are holding onto my shoulders. Her eyes are wide and unfocused. I grab her by her waist again and lift her up from the water, checking her legs for damage. Thank God I find none.
“Back, back! Put me back.”
I quickly obey her request, hoping that a slightly chill morning ocean will cool down her skin.
“Where does it hurt?”
“Legs. Just hot. Very hot.” Her voice is shaky.
“Let me see.” I lift her up again.
“It’s fine.” She gulps for air like she’s about to have a panic attack. “It’s not burnt. I don’t think so. Just hot. Let me sitin the water.”
“Ezra?” comes Noah’s voice. “Is she okay?”
“I think so,” I reply, without turning to him. Odd that he’s the only one interested with her whole family present.
“Maeve?” comes Beatrice’s voice. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” she whispers and starts chuckling.
“What?”
“The fire?” she giggles. “Seriously? Again?”
I snort, only now comprehending the irony of the situation. The fire has come full circle.
“Are you really okay?” I ask quietly, letting a note of emotion slip into my voice.
“Yes.” She nods. “I’m fine.”
“Well, everyone is alive. Shall we continue?” comes her mother’s voice, nearly making me bark at her to shut the fuck up and read the room.
“Wrongs are a very determined bunch,” Maeve whispers with a small smile and rises to her feet.
“Do you want to stay here a little longer?”
“No. Let’s go.”
I’m helping her to the beach where a few cameras are pointed in our direction. Every single one of them was hired by the Wrongs—I’d prefer to avoid publicity. But whatever comes out of it, we still should have a wedding photo.
I glance down at Maeve. With the worry of the moment gone, I finally notice that she’s wearing nothing but white panties, similar to those she wore on the island, and a corset. Nothing else. Nothing. Her wet panties are see through. For everyone. With her tits out like that and now her ass, I’ll have to go through many brawls by the end of the ceremony.
