37. Wedding Plans
Chapter 37
Wedding Plans
SONGBIRD
T he smell of dead crows—of blood and feathers and entrails—lingers in my nose. Acidic. Pungent.
An hour ago, I was sneaking around with my secret boyfriend, having the time of my life. Now, I’m petrified.
Willow keeps a firm hold on my arm, guiding me away from the bleachers and into the gardens toward our apartments. The scene we just witnessed weighed heavily on us both. What should have been a lighthearted, unceremonious ballgame turned into an impromptu gathering to mourn the fallen Shadow King, with the promise of more death looming ahead.
“Ninety-seven percent of crown challenges end in death,” she whispers.
“Yes.”
Her large amber eyes, red and glassy with tears, meet mine. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.”
It’s no secret that I don’t want to marry Zeke, but him dying before the end of the year had never crossed my mind as a solution to my predicament. A wave of nausea washes over me as we reach the shade of the breezeway, my rendezvous with Aidan obviously canceled.
“Elizabeth!” Zeke’s voice booms behind us, barely recognizable, and my eyes widen.
Since when does he call me by my name? I freeze on the marble slab and give Willow’s hand a tight squeeze. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”
Zeke slows down as he draws near, no longer running, but pacing, never settling down in one spot. “I need to speak with you.” His chest rises and falls, his movements all over the place as though he’s been pumped raw with fear and adrenaline. Seeing him this way dizzies me, and I wrap my arms around my frame.
“Your father— It’s terrible. I’m sorry you had to find out in this way.”
He nods to himself a few times. “You and I have to get married now . Before the challenge.”
My heart somersaults. “What?”
I must not have heard him right.
“Well, not now , but tomorrow. If I’m to beat Sombra, I need all the magic I can get, but this has to stay between us. Meet me in the main hall at dawn, and I’ll take you with me to Nocturna.”
My voice feels brittle as I say, “I have my Shadow mask ceremony tomorrow.”
“The Shadow King oversees every Shadow mask ceremony, so that’s postponed until his successor is crowned.”
“Oh.” My jaw drops in a mix of icy dread and panicked disbelief. I’ve been waiting for this for months—for that forever instrument of freedom—and it was right there within my reach.
“Everything will be arranged, and you can teach me how to handle your ice magic for a few days so I can take Damian by surprise at the challenge.”
The cocky, boastful prince is gone. The Zeke standing before me looks dead serious—bereft, and frankly, terrified.
He lifts his gaze to meet mine. “Chin up, moth. In ten days, you’ll either be my queen or my widow, free to live the life you want.”
There’s no suspicion in his eyes, no fear that I might back out—not now that his father is dead and a Faerie crown is actually within reach. Most students at the academy would kill for a chance to rule, and as Zeke shrewdly pointed out, I will either be his widow or his queen.
He doesn’t think anyone would be so foolish as to let such an opportunity slip away. Especially not a moth.
I climb the stairs to my room in a haze, playing absentmindedly with the ring Aidan gave me. I wear it on a chain around my neck, hidden from view most of the time, but so precious to me.
Willow is pouring us both a glass of wine when I enter the room, and I close the door quietly behind me.
“He wants you to marry him, doesn’t he?” she asks, not looking up from her task.
“Yes.”
She walks over and hands me a glass, her sharp eyes scanning my face. “And will you?”
“I’m not sure.”
Willow sighs, giving me a small nod. “I’ll stand by you every step of the way, Beth Snow,” she says, her voice warm but steady. She squeezes my arm briefly before slipping past me to sit on the sofa. “But let’s be honest. Zeke doesn’t have the brains to win that challenge. Even with your combined magic, Damian will eat him alive. I’d give him less than a five percent chance.”
Her bluntness stings, but she’s right. I sink into the armchair across from her, staring down at the wineglass in my hands. The weight of Aidan’s ring on its chain feels unbearable around my neck.
“And I don’t think even my father would risk the outrage of driving a young widow out of school. Once you two are married, you’ll inherit his status, even in death. No one will dare call you a moth again.”
I have been presented with the opportunity to both fulfill my promise to Zeke’s father and be free, but I don’t feel any relief at all.
“I don’t want to be a widow,” I say softly, the words cracking as they leave my mouth.
Willow’s expression shifts. “Better a widow than stuck in a loveless marriage,” she murmurs.
I don’t respond right away. Her smile is dim but brave, her eyes full of resignation. She never said it out loud, but I know how much her wedding night cost her.
The possibility gnaws at something raw inside me, and I bite my bottom lip, trying to suppress the guilt rising in my chest. Willow thinks Zeke is the problem; that I’m hesitating because I don’t love him and want to avoid the sex altogether. She doesn’t know the truth about Aidan.
“It’s not that simple,” I whisper, clutching the glass ring tighter.
Willow leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Zeke’s chances against Damian are slim, but he could make it out against all odds. Is that what’s stopping you?”
When I don’t answer, she tilts her head, studying me. “Beth, what’s going on? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
My breath catches, and for a fleeting moment, I consider telling her everything—about Aidan, about the nights we’ve stolen, about the way he makes me feel. But the words are too slow to come. I can’t seem to force them out to Willow who’s trusted me with her own secrets and struggles. Before I gather the courage to explain, Iris storms through the door and slams her bag onto the kitchen counter, her hair more disheveled than I’ve ever seen it, her eyes red and blotchy.
“Hey, are you alright?” Willow asks, her spine stiffening at our roommate’s eerie appearance.
“How do you dare ask me that question?” Iris deadpans, her voice quiet and hollow. “After what happened last night.”
Willow grimaces, her fingers rapping against her knee as she turns back around to face me. “Iris is furious with me,” she whispers under her breath. “Her father was convinced that he would get Ezra to marry her instead, and now that it’s not to be, I can’t do anything right.”
Iris’s face wrinkles in fury, the slender woman looking twice as tall as she marches into the living room area, fists balled at her sides. “It should have been me! You don’t give a damn about him. You like girls .”
Willow’s eyes widen in shock. “Iris!”
“Oh, come on. It’s hardly a secret,” Iris says dismissively. “I thought that with me around, you two newlyweds might find some common ground, but you stood me up without so much as a heads-up.”
“I should go.” I rise and tiptoe toward my bedroom, hoping to give the two women some space.
“Ezra changed his mind,” Willow says quietly. “I can’t help that. With Elio being head over heels for you, it’s not so surprising he had scruples about accepting your offer.”
“Please, Ezra couldn’t care less about his brother’s pathetic obsession with me. He chickened out because of her.” Iris points at me, freezing me mid-retreat.
My hand clenches around the doorknob. “What do you mean?”
Iris creates a very small gap between her index finger and thumb. “He came this close to giving in, but he said he couldn’t bear how you’d look at him if you found out about us. He wasn’t afraid to hurt Elio’s feelings. Not scared of Willow’s reaction—his damn wife. But you. ”
“I-I’ll talk to you both later, alright?” I slip inside my bedroom and lock the door behind me, the argument picking up where I left it, Iris’s heart and pride wounded enough for the Spring Fae to abandon all pretenses.
I zone out their conversation, but a dark silhouette at my window makes me jump. Aidan is here, waiting for me, and I bring a shaky head to my forehead. Oh, hells!
I crack open the window, the eerie darkness of Morheim spilling into the room. Even in the middle of the day, it feels like midnight, the sun banished from the sky for the holiday’s duration. “You can’t be in here—Willow and Iris will hear,” I whisper, glancing over my shoulder to the door.
“Let me in,” Aidan says, his voice low but urgent.
I push the window open wider, and he climbs inside with practiced ease, his bite of power filling the room. His brows pull together at the loud argument going on beyond the door, but he doesn’t mention it.
“Please don’t marry him.” His head tilts slightly, desperation bleeding into every syllable. “I beg you.”
I blink a few times, shocked by his insight. “How did you know?”
“When you didn’t meet me at the cabin, I came to meet you and heard you two talking.” He steps closer, his jaw tight. “He needs your magic, but you can’t marry him, Songbird. He probably won’t win the challenge, with or without your magic, but I can’t bear the thought of the two of you together. Even for one night.”
I clutch the foot of the bed for support, finally making up my mind about it. “I don’t want to marry him,” I whisper. “I want you. Only you.”
The ring Aidan gave me grows hot between my breasts as he draws near, and his breath hitches. “Songbird. Are you saying?—”
I cut him off, shaking my head. “No one would marry us, Aidan. They’d be terrified of reprisal.”
“Mabel lives in the new world. With the Shadow King dead, I can get us there without fear of being followed. Ezra said she’d marry us for a price.”
The knowledge that Ezra and Aidan discussed this sends my head spinning, and I look down at the ring hanging around my neck. “She’s a witch.”
“I don’t care. Once it’s done, no one—not even the gods themselves—will be able to undo it. And we can finally be together in broad daylight.”
“But we’re so young. Your feelings might change.”
I’m arguing against my own desires, here, but if we’re about to link our destinies permanently and anger his very royal family, he needs to be sure. Otherwise, regrets would just fester between us.
Aidan seems to understand where I’m coming from, and his voice softens. “My feelings for you will never change. They’re as permanent as this mark,” he says, pressing his hand to his tattoo.
A rushed breath whistles out of my lungs. “What if someone figures out I’m part siren?”
“Then we’ll leave…settle in the new world for a while. Plenty of sirens have fled there over the years.”
My heart stumbles as each fear rolls off Aidan’s back, his confidence dissolving my doubts, one wild hypothesis at a time. “You’d truly choose exile to be with me?” I whisper, awed and shocked by the depths of his devotion.
“Without a doubt.”
I sink my hand into his hair until our noses bump. “What about your family? Your future?” I breathe.
“My mother is still in her prime. It could be centuries before the crown calls for a new king, and by then, things will have blown over, you’ll see. I refuse to believe our world will still be so…backwards then.” He gives me a smile that’s secret and masculine and so Aidan that I’d give anything to see it everyday. Every night.
Every morning.
As my husband.
“Alright, we should make plans.” My voice trembles. “But we have to be extremely careful until we figure this out.”
“Is that a yes?” Aidan chucks out.
I press my lips together, the enormity of what we’re about to do sending my heart into a frenzy. “Yes, but you can’t stay here.”
He cups my face, staring at me as though I’ve lost my mind—but in a way that pleases him immensely. “You can’t tell me you’re ready to become my wife and expect me to leave,” he says, his voice thick with longing. He rests his forehead on mine, his steady grip grounding me. “We’ll escape to the new world, get married, and after that… they’ll just have to come around. Mortal love wanes, but Fae love burns to the bone. Once we’re married, even the gods themselves won’t be able to keep us apart.”
He moves to kiss me, but I deny him.
“Wait! I need to make sure beyond the shadow of a doubt that you’re all mine, no magic involved.” I meet his gaze despite the crimson blush on my cheeks.
His brow furrows. “What are you talking about?”
I cross the room to my desk, pull out my notebook, and flip to the right page. “A spell,” I explain, my tone firm. “To ensure my song is not still influencing you. I found it in the archives, and if you want us to get married, it’s non-negotiable.”
“Beth,” he says softly, shaking his head. “I don’t care about your siren blood. I love you.”
“I love you too, but?—”
“No buts. We’re past that. I love you.” He catches my hand in his, his expression a mixture of tenderness and determination. “Blessed Flame,” he breathes, his smile breaking through the last shreds of doubt in my heart. “I’m so incredibly happy right now.” His lips brush mine, but I press my hands to his chest again.
“Aidan, if my siren blood—” A nervous gasp pops out of my mouth. “I need this. If we’re going to get married, it has to be real. No magic. No doubt.” Tears spill over, sliding down my cheeks.
The elation on his face dims slightly, settling into something quieter but no less steadfast. He nods. “Alright. What do you need for the spell?”
I glance down at the list I compiled, the culmination of weeks of research. “Here.”
Aidan pulls me to him for one last kiss before he heads back for the opened window. “I’ll get the supplies together. Meet me by the Eros fountain in the gardens at midnight, and we’ll go to the new world first, then seek out Mabel once the spell is done. Don’t tell anyone you're leaving—not even Willow.” He sounds like an officer heading off to war, confident of his victory, and the fire in his amber gaze takes my breath away.
I’d follow him to the ends of the Dark Sea, through the Breach and beyond the edges of our world.
The prince who stole my heart with his first fiery kiss, back when I feared he was merely a fever dream—a perfect construct of the labyrinth fashioned to my exact fantasies. An ideal tailor-made to my preferences, yet forever out of reach.
He’d taken charge in much the same way that night, eager to lead me where I yearned to go. Confident, mischievous, and devoted to my cause, ready to cheat, lie and scheme just so he could keep me by his side.
I catch up with him before he crosses the windowsill, in awe that I, an insignificant moth with barely two pieces of silver to her name, can incite such passion in the most bewitching and powerful Fae heir on the continent.
Before now, I never truly believed we could make it. It sounded too good to be true, empty promises whispered in the throes of passion. The sentiment behind them was true enough for our silly dreams to be spoken out, but not acted upon.
Yet, Aidan truly craves for me to become his wife. He’s ready to put our love first, above the demands of his birth and the crown he’s supposed to inherit. I’ve argued against it for months—often contrary to my own desires—but he still chooses me .
My heart races in my chest, too wide and hot for the ice in my veins not to melt.
By the spindle . We’re really doing this.
Aidan and I are going to elope.