Unnatural Instinct: Free

25.

'I was told you wanted to see me,' I say. 'Is she ... is she ready?'

The leader looks up from his book as I stand uncertainly in the doorway of his little study. His grey beard and robe gleam against the midday sun pouring through the window. It's going to be a beautiful day.

He gives a nod and shuts his book, folding his hands on top of it. 'She has been fully cleansed, in mind, spirit and body and is more than ready to be wed.'

My heart swells in my throat. I stand tall and lift my chin as I tug at the cuffs of my dress shirt and straighten the shoulders of my jacket. The suit was my father's and grandfather's, now handed down to me for this special day. The shoes don't quite fit and rub uncomfortably against my heels—but I'll withstand it.

I'll withstand anything for you.

'I am glad.' I am unable to keep the smile from my lips. 'I've been looking forward to it.'

'I know you have, and your patience is admirable.' The leader stands and gives me a small smile. 'She is waiting for you.'

I've never been so nervous in all my life as I stand outside the church. A small knot of friends and family have gathered, some already seated inside, others congratulating me and shaking my hand. The rest of the villagers either watch from a distance or keep to themselves, giving us some privacy, as the leaders had advised.

It is usual that the entire village becomes involved, but with everything that's happened and with your ongoing vulnerabilities, it is safer and better for you that we keep this as calm and small as possible. It doesn't bother me; I find myself preferring it.

I can't wait to see you. I haven't been able to get near you since the day I brought you back. No matter my demands nor how I tried to peer through the barred windows, they prevented me from seeing. And I've found myself missing you.

I've found myself missing you desperately.

Ever since your return, I've dreamed about you every night. I wish I had gotten a chance to touch your smooth soft skin after I rescued you. If it hadn't been for my comrades, I would have done. I wish I had fought harder.

But it doesn't matter now. Very soon we'll be together, like we've never been before!

My brother slaps me on the back as we enter the church and position ourselves on the dais, myself and my groomsmen. I glance at your side of the dais. Except for one uncertain looking woman, you have no other bridesmaids to support you. As for the audience—I see very few unfamiliar faces. Almost all of those attending are from my side of the family. In fact, there's so many on my side and so few on yours that the crowd has been encouraged to disperse evenly between the pews so it doesn't look so strange.

Or depressing.

It makes me angry. It makes me angry that so many of your family should disown you for something that wasn't your fault. You were weak and the monster seduced you—but that's not your fault. You are a woman and a rebellious one. Your frailties are to be expected. It is my fault. It is the village's fault, for not protecting you the way we should have done.

I swallow down my rage as the musicians in the back suddenly cue your entrance with the bridal chorus.

The audience stands and I can't keep my heart from thundering as you step inside. The sunlight pouring through the open doors makes your wedding gown shimmer and gleam. It makes you look like a shining star. Your heavy veil shrouds your face, and I itch so hard to pull it back. I haven't seen you in so long.

Time seems to slow as you walk alongside a distant cousin who is willing to hand you over. I hardly look at him, my eyes fastened on you. Then he puts your hand in mine, and I get to touch you for the first time in weeks. Your hand is so small.

The words of the priest sound surreal in my ears as we officially begin the ceremony. We say our parts, your voice high and pleasant. We hand over the rings. And finally I get to pull back your veil.

My heart swells. It's just as I hoped—you're back to normal. Your cheeks are rosy. Your eyes are bright. You look the real picture of innocence: like the Virgin Mary returned. Gone is that devilish look in your face. Gone is that spark of rage in your eyes that I saw on that night when you attacked me and then again when I saved you. Instead, you give me a pretty little smile and lower your eyes from mine demurely, just like a good, God-fearing woman should.

They've fixed you.

I bend down to meet your lips, so soft against mine. The roar of the clapping crowd rings distantly in my ears.

The rest of the day is a blur: the wedding party, the dancing and feasting. I hear the raucous shouts of my friends, feel the slaps on the backs and the kisses on my cheeks, but most of all I feel the softness of your hand in mine.

I can't wait to have you. I can't wait for tonight when we can finally be alone.

The candles and fire are already lit as I welcome you into my home, picking you up in my arms as we cross the threshold. You don't laugh or shout but you continue to bear that lovely little smile, your soft, long arms encircling my neck. You've been so well-mannered today. So friendly and lovely. Somehow, they've made you even better than what you were before.

You're utterly transformed.

I rest you on the bed and step back to undo my belt. I'm overfull from dinner but it doesn't stop my erection from jumping out as I drop my pants. You're lying in the middle of the bed, watching me, still dressed in the simple white frock you wore for the afterparty. Your breasts press so divinely against the fabric. Your hair flares out over my pillow in waves. Never have you looked so beautiful—and just in time.

You're finally mine.

Mine.

You're making my mouth water. My erection gives a hard throb as my heart kicks against my ribs.

Quickly, I begin to undo the buttons of my shirt.