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Prologue
The aisle is immeasurably long. I never imagined it being this long when I thought about what my wedding would be like. I suppose if Beckham was waiting at the end, it wouldn't feel like this. But it's not Beckham, it's him waiting for me. Even now I can feel Beckham's angry, hurt, devastated glare wrapping around me. His anger is tangible in the air, so much so that it's hard to breathe. I wish he wasn't here, but he told me if I was really going to do this, I had to do it knowing he was watching, and that he would take me away the minute I asked no matter the consequence.
I can't think about that though. This isn't something I can back out of.
One step, another step. I glance backwards at the doors that have been closed behind me. They are most likely locked as well. You don't capture a queen everyday after all. I get the insane urge to laugh. A captured queen. That's exactly what I am.
I feel a small squeeze on my arm. I look over and my father motions with his eyes for me to get on with it. For a minute I want to curse him into oblivion, but I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. No matter how wretched he is, this wasn't his choice. It was mine.
A swell of music from a hidden orchestra fills the air. It's playing our people's wedding march. I used to love this song as a little girl. I would sway to the lilting beat and admire the beautiful brides and how radiant and happy they looked staring at the love waiting for them at the end of the song. It's funny that it sounds like a funeral march to me right now.
One step, another step. I can sense that Beckham is just ahead of me. I'm afraid to look up, afraid that what I will see in his eyes will somehow make me change my mind. What if he's crying again? Can I really take the sight of that again?
I hold off as long as I can before the weight of his stare, coupled with my longing to see his face again, makes me look up. I lose my breath for a second looking at the sheer sorrow written all over him. Despite the pain his sadness fills me with, I devour him with my eyes. He is so beautiful. It seems like the light streaming in from the stained-glass window that covers almost the entire front of the room is solely focused on him. He glows even more than usual somehow. He's dressed in all black, the only one in the room wearing the color. It's a high break in protocol for him to be wearing black to a royal wedding, or any wedding at all for that matter. I understand why he's wearing it though. There will be a death today. The death of us.
Another squeeze on my arm tells me that my look has not gone unnoticed. I reluctantly tear my eyes away from him. The image of him holding my ring against his heart seared into my soul.
One step, another step. The walkway is lined with flowers and I flinch at the waste considering the land is dying and taking all its beauty with it to the grave. I wonder where they even found them. I certainly didn't grow them for anyone. Not that anyone knows that I have that power now.
We're getting to the end of the song. I take a deep breath and finally look at my soon to be husband. He too is beautiful. The dark to Beckham's light. But the stain on his soul ensures that his beauty will always disgust me. The same way that the black widow, despite its beautiful crimson belly, will always fill me with dread.
He's staring at me, his black eyes sparkling with pride. I know I must present quite the sight. I am the perfect queen. My golden hair shimmers behind me, brushed to such a perfection that I imagine it appears to be real gold. Iridescent pearls are threaded throughout the waves and even I couldn't help but admire my image when I first looked in the mirror after my handmaidens were done preparing me. My crown of sparkling diamonds sits atop my head, reminding the gathering that with the death of my mother, I am now Queen.
My dress is equally as stunning. Made from lace that appears so lovely and delicate that I feared the dress would rip just by touching it when I put it on, it fits my every curve like a glove. A long train trails behind me, held perfectly in place by my rock, Lexi, who solemnly walks behind me in support, despite the fact that she hates today almost as much as I do.
He gives me a smile that somehow lacks any warmth and holds out his hand. One step, another step. I'm finally there. Taking one last look behind me, I almost can't believe I made it down this aisle that looks even longer than it did at the beginning. I take a deep breath, and my eyes can't help but seek out Beckham's one more time. Our eyes meet and I gather courage from the love I see still exuding out from them. I finally face forward at last, and place my hand in his still outstretched one.
I am the Queen and today is my wedding day.
Chapter 1
Damon
I stare at Lexi in shock for a second before I stand up and rush over to her, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her for a second inadvertently before she sends an electric shock racing through me which sends me crashing to the ground.
"Don't touch me," she responds coolly, the slight flicker of electricity still visible at her fingertips.
"Well hello little witch," I tell her sarcastically. "Did Eva know about this?"
"She found out right before she disappeared," Lexi tells me stiffly. There's definitely no love lost between her and I, especially now that I can see that how she has acted this whole time was fake. However, I'm going to try and play nice, I would work with Lucifer himself if it helped me to find Eva.
"We can chat about how I'm a witch and you're an angel later," she says, surprising me with her knowledge of what I am. "Right now, we need to get Eva."
"How do you know where she is?" I ask.
"I don't know exactly where she is, just the general area. She doesn't seem to be conscious though wherever she is."
"What do you mean, and how are you able to do this?" I ask impatiently, ready to rip her head off if she doesn't give me information soon, and worrying what it means if Eva is unconscious.
Lexi looks uncomfortable, as if she doesn't want to share how she knows.
"I'm tethered to her," she mumbles under her breath.
It's only thanks to my supersonic hearing I can even make the words out. Tethered. I try to go through my supernatural databank of knowledge to figure out what I know about it, but I can't come up with anything. I've heard that souls can be tethered together, but surely that's not what she's talking about, right…?
"Explain how you are tethered to her?" I ask her, feeling like I'm just repeating myself over and over again.
"I tethered our souls," she explains hesitantly. "So that I could always find her."
