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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Amara had no idea what being a 'winter host couple' meant, but Xelan's look of impatient rage was enough to tell her that it was bad.
"Why wasn't I informed of this?" Xelan gritted. The coachman fidgeted at his tone.
"It was a last-minute decision. They hope you will be able to honour it, regardless," the young man explained, his beige face pinked from the chill night air. Winter had already started to pitch its tent, leaving its signature frigid breaths to announce its arrival. Xelan closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Amara tapped his arm, making his breath catch as his body went tense. Again with that reaction. It was getting more clearer that her proximity was bothering him.
"What does this mean?" she muttered so only he could hear her. He turned to face her.
"They want us to be their chosen couple for the night."
"Is that bad?"
"It's catastrophic," he whispered. She gulped, his vague answer still carrying enough warning for her. Her attention returned to the coachman, who watched both of them with mild interest and nervousness.
"This is too dangerous. If we were only attending, it would be fine. But this..."
He trailed off, swearing under his breath. She held on to her dress tightly, his agitation making her worry.
"I don't think they'll let us refuse," she whispered back. His jaw clenched.
"No," he said slowly, eyeing her in concern. She drew a shaky breath, turning back to the coachman.
"Of course, we would be delighted to honour it," she said with a small polite smile, gripping Xelan's arm tentatively. Xelan sighed, trying hard to mask his aversion to her touch.
"We should leave. It wouldn't be favourable if we were late."
The coachman nodded, rushing to open the carriage door. Xelan led her to it, giving her support as she climbed in. The interior was just as exquisite, silver-grey silk velvet couches that sunk as she sat. Xelan followed, sitting at the edge of the seat opposite hers. With both passengers settled in, the carriage took flight.
Amara gulped, holding on to her seat as the vehicle glided smoothly on air. Xelan looked at her curiously.
"I take it you are not used to flying," he asked. She shook her head, gulping.
"I have done it once. Just not with a winged carriage."
He hesitated for a bit before leaning forward to place his hand over hers. "You will be fine," he assured with calm conviction. She smiled at him.
"Thank you," she said. His hand remained on hers, his warm beige skin over her bronze skin. His eyes dropped down to it and he pulled his hand away immediately, clearing his throat.
"Is something wrong?" she finally asked. He gave her an inquisitive look.
"You keep... Avoiding being near me. I didn't want to talk about it cause it's best this way but does this have anything to do with the Aftermath?"
