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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In all his years as a swordsman, Xelan had come rather close to losing his head twice. Once at the borders between Balos and the Dark West, the second being this moment. Both by the same woman who lounged on the cloud like chairs in the middle of the celestial themed room.
He was fortunate to halt the floating dagger without drawing his sword, grabbing the blade with his hand and melting it with the heat of his pure aura gathered in his palm.
"You're late," she said, not bothering to even acknowledge them. Her striking features were more pronounced with her short form-fitting dress that comprised of numerous tiny crystals sewn together, making her dazzle under the light of the globes that hung from the ceiling.
"And you are as stunning as ever, my love," Fraser greeted, gravitating immediately to her side to raise a hand to his rosy lips. She finally looked his way, her violet eyes showing her displeasure as she snatched her hand away.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Sir Fraser."
"I wouldn't dare. Forgive me for keeping you waiting. I had to ensure I was in the clear," he said, placing a hand under her chin to raise her head. She softened up as his lips found hers, leaning into his touch. And when they finally pulled apart, her voice too had eased up on its frostiness.
"You're lucky I've missed you." Her eyes moved over to Xelan. "Lord Calthorpe. I see you're on guard duty. You didn't have to ruin the blade. It was my favourite."
"Lady Ivina," Xelan said, skipping over the pleasantries as he brought out a handkerchief to wipe his hand. It was always hard to tell if it was truly a pleasure to see her. Her gaze soon noticed Amara and a smile graced her fair face.
"And you must be the survivor of the Black Widower, or rather, his wife."
There's something about the way she said that annoyed Xelan, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she referred to him as the Black Widower and more to do with the way she spoke of Amara like she was nothing more than that.
"I prefer Amara, if you don't mind," Amara said, folding her arms. She must have picked up on the hint of condescension, judging by her peeved emotions. His hand reached out for her again but he stopped it in time. There was no justifiable reason to give if he faltered again.
"Of course. Come sit down," she beckoned to them. Once they were all settled on the cloud cushions, Fraser carried on fussing over his wife, much to the discomfort of both Xelan and Amara.
"I've missed you. Did you have to leave for so long?" he said, planting kisses over her jaw. She nestled comfortably on his laps, satisfied with the affection she was receiving.
"It was necessary. Quests like these take time."
"How did you fare? Did anyone seek to harm you?"
She giggled at his question. "Who would even dare?" she asked, leaning in for another passionate kiss. Xelan cleared his throat, getting rather tired of their display.
