Page 168 of City of Snakes
We laid out the other bedroll and set up a small picnic there. Once half the loaf was gone and we’d eaten away at the skinnedfruit, Krait watched as I took a drag of the wine bottle and settled down next to him.
There, naked, lying on his side and propped on an elbow, he looked like a painting. My very own debaucherous work of art—one that I could run my hands over. I’d sunk my fingers into the hair on his chest without thinking, and he smirked.
“You aren’t scared of this? It could go poorly.” I bit my lower lip.
He shrugged. “We have worse things to fear. Whatever comes next, there isn’t a soul alive that I’d rather face it with,” he said before taking the wine bottle. He stared at me with some indescribable intensity.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” This time, there was no sharpness to my tone; there was only curiosity.
“Marry me,” he answered.
I raised my brows. “That has already been settled.”
Our betrothal felt different now. It felt real.I’d skirted marriage for so long, yet I had no doubts this time.
“Tomorrow,” he clarified as he handed me the bottle.
I sat up on my elbow. “Tomorrow?” I balked, staring down at him as he relaxed into the bedroll.
“Yes.”
“Here?” I asked.
“Does it matter where?”
“No,” I answered. “No, it doesn’t matter. Tomorrow. Tonight even.”
His expression softened before he reached over and drew me to him. The bottle was discarded, spilling onto the rocks beside the bedroll. We fell asleep to the sound of the waterfall and each other’s hammering heartbeats.
Chapter 54
Krait
On our way through the streets of Sahlmkar, Sybilla nervously babbled about a wedding she’d attended for a couple of nobles in the South Corridor—something about it being a dockside ceremony and losing rings to the ocean.
My excitement had risen too much to actively listen to her story. But, seeing her by my side, chattering amicably, flushed and energized felt right. We burst into the Temple of Shadows midday.
A Divine was lighting the candles around a charcoal-colored statue of my great-great-great-grandfather Desidero. Sybilla wandered about the temple while I explained to the man of worship, who only spoke Brennac, that we would like to be wed. The conversation went by in a blur of anticipation and adrenaline.
Waiting even a moment longer to make our union official seemed foolish when there would be no carrying on without her. We’d already wasted too much damned time fighting.
I’d eloped once and it had cost me my heart—even that didn’t deter me. Instead that rusty organ in my chest swelled, thinking about the second chance that lay before me.
The Divine raised his brow. He looked over at Sybilla. “She is the one?” he asked.
I watched Sybilla as she stared up at the gray tapestries adorning the walls with her hands clasped behind her back. The space was windowless and built from dark lava stone. Torches lit only the wall hangings and the monument to the Shadow Origin at the center of the room. Darkness danced around us.
Sybilla wore the dark breeches and cream tunic that I’d had Ryn pack in the satchel for her. She’d tried to tame her curls into a loose braid over her shoulder, which had become frayed and now poked out in places. I wore something similarly plain and unpressed. It didn’t look like any royal wedding I’d ever attended, but it would beours.
She glanced back at me and smiled.
“She’s the one,” I answered.
I’d rushed one marriage. I’d let my Source Match bear the consequences of marrying the wrong man. My chest tightened, and Sybilla frowned as she approached me.
“Is something wrong?” She placed a hand on my chest. “Are you going to leave me at the altar, Darvanda?” she asked with a playful tilt of her head.
“That would be more of your move,” I joked and her frown deepened. My hand slipped over hers as she met my eyes. “I’ve never been more sure that I am in the right place with the right person.”
