The King's Cursed Bride

Ready or Not

Author's Note:  I'm almost at 800 followers! Like, wow, you guys. Just wow. In case you didn't catch my undying gratitude in my previous notes, just wanted to thank you guys for choosing to read and support this story 💖

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For the first time in weeks, there was no pressing urge to awake quickly, either to meet a man in the evening or escape from him in the morning. She let her body melt into the mattress beneath her, luxuriating in its caress.

Something moved against her, warm and solid, swelling and falling beneath her cheek. She opened her eyes, glanced up.

Elon's face was a mere breath from hers. "Good morn, Carissa."

What would it be like to properly greet Elon good morn? To wrap him in her arms and brush his lips with hers? But even as she thought it, her body recoiled at the thought, tightening much as it had last night.

Before she could move, Elon withdrew for her. Her heart sagged with disappointment. How was it she could long for something so strongly yet fear it?

Elon propped his elbows on the mattress to sit up. His gaze roamed from her mused hair to her curled toes. "You look lovely." The husk in his voice brought a blush to her cheeks.

"Truly?" Even as the word left her lips, she hated the sound of it, the eagerness hinting at her desperation.

"Truly." He flipped the covers back and rolled off the bed before striding to the wardrobe.

She averted her gaze to afford him privacy.

After a few minutes, he said, "I'm finished, Carissa." Though he didn't chuckle, there was a hint of laughter in his tone.

She glanced up just as he strapped on a pair of dusty boots. "Where are you going?"

"To pay Akasha a visit." Elon slid the sheath of a sword onto his belt before cinching the belt around his hips.

She recalled the ominous words he'd told Akar, Her end draws near. "You're going to kill her?"

"No." He pulled the belt tight before glancing up. "You are."

"You jest."

"I don't."

She folded her arms. "I'm not going to become a warrior, Elon. I haven't even received any training."

"Consider this practice for later."

She slid from the bed. "Practice? Later?" How many Reapers did Elon think she would kill?

"You wanted to rid the city of the Reaper, did you not?"

As if reawakened by his words, a burning filled her stomach. She remembered how the coming of the Reaper had gutted the city of wealth, food, and happiness. Nothing had she wanted more than to vanquish the Reaper and free those she loved from its—or rather her—hold.

She squinted. "You're encouraging to me seek revenge?" She'd known Elon only a day, yet he didn't seem the kind of man to pursue revenge.

He shook his head. "No. Though I'm sure a part of you sought revenge, I think another part of you wanted to find the Reaper for a different reason."

"Why?"

"Because it's what you were designed for."

She clenched and unclenched her suddenly cold hands. "For destruction?"

"Sometimes destruction is necessary for something to be rebuilt."

She shook her head, her loose hair swaying. Why did Elon want this? Why would he marry a woman only to send her on a suicide mission the next day? "Likely, I'd be the one destroyed rather than Akasha."