Just Call Her Syndre

Chapter 16 | A Lifeline

The priest glanced at Timotheus, his thin lips open as he spoke. Shivering, shuddering, and mentally shattered, I squeezed Timotheus' hands in mine until my knuckles turned white. I didn't want to do this. I wasn't going to do this.

With the collapse of the modern world and all its amenities, we also lost religion. The church, and its failing edifice, was proof that our world had completely abandoned the previous generation's connection with a spiritual world. Our legal system, built on the back of religious law and order, was just a shell of the former.

"Do you take Syndre-Lynn Marcelus as your wife, Timotheus?"

I shivered again when my eyes met his. He grinned widely, clutching my hands in his, and quickly nodded. Scowling disgusted, I turned away, letting my eyes feast on the double doors at the end of the hall.

"And you, Syndre-Lynn Marcelus, do you take Timotheus Adler as your husband?"

My joins locked down immediately. Tension squelched the warm, moist air in the chapel, making it hard to breathe. I pinched my lips together and rolled them inward, taking a deep breath of moldy air and puffing it out again. Steeling myself against the onslaught of emotion that Timotheus would explode into, I deftly yanked my hands away and lifted my chin.

"Not even on pain of death." The Priest's eyes bugged out, and his mouth dropped open, fishing for a response. Red leeched into Timotheus' face, coating his cheeks, neck, forehead and touching the tops of his ears. "I will never accept you as my husband. I do not pledge myself to you until death. I do not pledge to stay by your side in sickness and in health, not for better or worse, and certainly not for richer or poorer. And I will be damned if I am forced to love and cherish a beast of a man like you."

Timotheus watched me, his breath fracturing as his anger built. Yet, as suddenly as his anger appeared, it dissipated. He simply shrugged and clasped his hands together in front of him, turning to meet the confused priest.

"See, Father?" Timotheus crooned. "Isn't she not the most sarcastic creature you're ever met?" The Priest, wildly swinging his gaze between us, slowly nodded his head. Timotheus turned to me, that same unnervingly calm smile on his face. "Syndre, I have already explained to the Priest about your... nature. He understands this is nothing but an act, and that you are concerned about how it appears with you marrying someone of close relation."

"What?" I deadpanned, laughing derisively. "There is nothing on this planet that you could do to convince me to marry you."

"Sasha looked absolutely beautiful tonight." He recalled. "I wonder if she knows about your impending nuptials right now. Maybe... maybe she'd like to come down and play witness for us?"

If I were an animal, I would have growled at Timotheus. Rage and protectiveness shot through me, nearly painting my vision red. In this moment, I wanted to end Timotheus and then dance in his blood. How dare he! How dare he threaten Sasha!

"She won't come." I answered confidently. "She's too busy with Prince Ophir. Good luck getting her away from him."

"Hmmm...." he hummed under his breath, "yet it was so easy to get you away from Prince Valor? Are you sure he even cares about you?"

"What are you suggesting?" I asked, clenching my hands into fists so tight that I felt my nails dig deep into my skin. "Are you suggesting he was playing a game with me?"

"Tis only a thought, my love." He sucked his teeth and tipped his head to the side. My stomach knotted, watching his smile never diminish. "You will be my wife, Syndre. We have already decided it. There's nothing you can do. A letter has been provided from my mother allowing this marriage to take place."