"This is a big mistake, you know," Flint says and places his fingertips against my collarbone, "My lovely bride shouldn't run away on her wedding day, should she?" His fingertips melt into his palm, the heavy part of his hand pushes into the bone, and he pins me to the doorway of Lily's room. My skull pushes against the woodwork, the indent of carved out wooden angels hits my head. He smiles, showing pearly teeth. His teeth shine creepily in the hazy, purple, dusk sky. The evening pours itself through the windows, he looks at my hands.
"What's that?" he asks.
"Let me go," I whisper and clutch onto the paper.
He puts his face close to mine and blows his hot breath on my neck, "What's on the paper?"
"If you come any closer, I snap your fucking neck," I warn. Flint moves back and traces the edge of my jaw with his hand.
"You're scary-wary," he teases, he puts his face close to my neck. I feel hot, tainted breath blow onto my skin. My body crawls with uncomfortableness, as if spiders burrowed themselves into my veins. "You look so good in that dress. I can't wait until we're married and I can rip it right off you." He forces himself closer onto me, blowing hot breath into my ear.
"Cosmos Static," I whisper under my breath and send a jolt of lightning to my skin. He flinches the slightest bit, and laughs, as if it turns him on and buries his mouth into my shoulder. His teeth suck on my skin, leaving patches raw and red on my neck. Like animal leaving his mark on what he owns.
I hold my pride, "It's bad luck to see your bride before the ceremony." He steps back and removes himself. I can feel it's warmth still on my neck. He touches my wrist and pulls it between us. Red, blue, green, and black. His fingers slide over the tattooed bands on my skin. He teases and pretends to cut the bands with his fingernail.
"Cover up these bands," he commands, he drops my wrist and it falls limply to my side, scratching against beads, "I'll see you at the chapel." He turns around and walks down the corridor. The sky is visible from the plethora of clear, glass windows and it has turned a dusty pink color, streaked over with bits of dark purple and navy peaking in between its stripes. He stops in his tracks and turns to face me. He leans his slender body against the long panel of windows next to him. The shadows dance in his face, making him look menacing from every angle.
"You know what," Flint says and smiles, the space between us floods with negative energy, "Let's just cut the bands now." He laughs like a psychopath and and pushes his arm through the glass window, it shatters and fragments of glass burst around him. Without breaking eye contact, he grabs a shard of glass and holds a firm grip on it.
"No," I whisper, and the note falls out of my fingertips. If those bands are cut, if that glass slices through my arm, I am nothing. Everything that proves I was born a mage and everything that proves my power. I sat and endured each Marking of the bands, as each color was sliced through me by the magic stored in my veins. If that breaks, I will no longer be of worth. I will have no strength or power, if he cuts my bands, then my struggles would be pointless.
"Never let Mama or Papa see your band, keep it covered at all times. If they see it, they'll hurt you," I whisper and kiss her forehead.
She wipes away a baby tear from her cheeks, "But, I'm scared."
"Shh, hide it and if they ever find out, I'll protect you," I promise. I clasp the bracelet over her small wrist.
"What about you?" She asks, I brush back her hair and laugh a little out of anger.
"Lily, it's too late for me now," I tell her.
"C'mon, it's over!" Flint laughs and sprints toward me, he swings his arm every so often into the window and the glass bursts around him. It fans out like snow, large and small chunks fly around him, magical and threatening, all at once. I take a backward glance and realize, to my own dismay, I'm stuck. In my front left is Lily's room and a closet behind me. A closet filled with dusty costs and unworn pieces. It's littered with old jewelry, expensive hackneyed fur coats, and old family albums tucked away on the highest shelf. They were always out of reach to someone my stature.
