Bound moon
The weak one from the cellar.
For a second, pure terror flooded her chest.
A dark smile slowly spread across his face. It was cold. Cruel.
“If you kill me here, the treaty dies,” Serafine whispered, her voice barely reaching his ear. “Your own lords are watching.”
Lucian leaned in closer, his breath warm against her jaw. “I am not going to kill you, little mistake. I am going to do something much worse.”
Her stomach dropped.
The High Priestess finished the ceremony. Cheers rose from the crowd, but they sounded forced. Lucian’s hand closed around hers like a metal trap. His grip was tight. Possessive. He turned and pulled her down the aisle, out into the freezing mountain air.