Having lost the man she loved to the cold clutches of suicide, Amara's impulsive decision to join him leads her to accept the marriage proposal of a mysterious stranger she shares a drink with at a bar.
Xelan's weddings were an awful affair, with ea...
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She had closed her eyes once the blue mists settled, opening them only when he had whispered,
"We're here, Miss Amara."
She turned around slowly, clutching her bag tighter. The sky remained the same inky black freckled with stars but the scene had changed from skyscrapers separated from the bridge they stood on by a body of water to a stately mansion on a grassy plain, encompassed by the woods. Her eyes widened.
"Where are we?" she asked, turning back to look at Xelan.
"This is my family home, in Sythmore."
Her brows knitted in confusion. "Sythmore? I've never heard of a place called Sythmore."
"That's because as far as mortals are concerned, it doesn't exist. And we prefer it that way."
She didn't fail to notice his use of the plural term. "We, as in, there are others like you?"
Her question only amused him more. "Yes. Did you assume that I was the only strange being that existed?"
"Would you assume I'm stupid if I said yes?" she asked. She wasn't exactly sure what he was to guess if there were people like him or not.
"Ignorance doesn't necessarily mean stupidity, Miss Amara. Shall we go in?"
He started to move but she held him back by his sleeve. "Wait, do we have to get married here? I thought we would just go to a random courthouse. This feels a bit too intimate."
He stared at the impressive building, his gaze unfeeling. "There is nothing intimate about here." He turned back to her. "The wedding rites here in Sythmore is a bit different than yours so I thought it would be best if we held it here."
"But your family..."
"Of the Calthropes, I can assure you, I am the only one who lives here. The servants are long gone, only one housekeeper remains."
She looked back at the manor with a bit concern before letting him lead her to the entrance, the large doors opening once they were in front of them. The haunted house back in the town she lived in as a child didn't hold a candle to this place. The lack of familial warmth echoed off the walls, making the foyer lighted by a three-tier chandelier dreary and hollow, radiating all the dark feelings she had tried so hard to stem all her life. He led her into the great room, pulling off his jacket and draping it on the cream armchair near the fireplace as he sat down. He gestured for her to sit on the matching chair in front of his, giving her a view of the oak brown French patio doors behind pulled back blue curtains. She obliged him, placing her bag beside the leg. A chill went through her and she rubbed her elbows. He noticed and snapped his fingers towards the fireplace, starting a fire. She jumped at the sudden ignition.
"Whoa!" she breathed, lulled by the flames. He smiled a bit.
"Sorry for the scare. I hope you're not bothered by blades."
