Isla wrapped her arms around him in a soft, incredibly lovely hug, resting her head gently against his chest so she could hear the steady, comforting rhythm of his heart.
"Dorian... just promise me that you will always support me exactly like this," she whispered softly, her voice thick with emotion.
"Because having you by my side is my absolute greatest strength."
"I have always been with you, Isla, and I always will be... but..." Dorian hesitated, gently pulling her back just enough to look deeply into her brilliant blue eyes.
"But what, Dorian?" Isla asked, lifting her head from his chest with a sudden, sinking feeling in her stomach.
"But, my love, I have to leave this kingdom for a while to earn a living and properly support my family," he confessed, his voice cracking with a devastating, raw sorrow.
"It might take a few days, a few weeks... or maybe years. Or... or perhaps even my entire life. Will you wait for me... for your entire life?"
"I will wait for you until my very last, dying breath," Isla vowed fiercely, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"And if my breath ever dares to betray me, I will completely dissolve into the winds, so that whenever you call my name, I will instantly flow right back to you as the morning breeze... but I will absolutely always come back to you."
Dorian took a deep, shaky breath, his expression turning terrifyingly serious.
"Isla, I needed to ask you one final question... was the ancient prophecy strictly just about marrying Lucier, or... or is there something more that you must do tonight?"
Isla completely froze, a heavy, suffocating silence swallowing her whole as she desperately struggled to find the right words.
She knew his fiercely protective nature and his terrifying, explosive temper; if she told him the horrifying truth—that she actually had to consummate the marriage to awaken her powers—she knew with absolute certainty that Dorian would never, ever allow her to do such a thing.
To keep his mind perfectly at peace so he could focus on his own journey without fearing for her, she looked him in the eye and lied.
"It... it was strictly just the marriage ceremony, Dorian," she forced out.
"Absolutely nothing else."
"I have to go now, Isla... tonight, right this very second. Please, take absolute care of yourself," Dorian whispered, stepping backward toward the large, open window he had used to sneak in.
Isla stood completely alone in the cold bathroom, her entire body trembling violently.
She had absolutely no courage left to step outside and face Lucier, because she had only ever wanted to give that sacred right to Dorian, yet she knew she inescapably had to sacrifice herself to the prince for her ultimate, kingdom-saving purpose.
She slowly walked over and looked down out of the window.
Dorian had already safely reached the ground; he looked back up at her, blew a dramatic, loving flying kiss, and gave her a charming wink before disappearing into the shadows.
Smiling through her heavy, agonizing tears, Isla gently waved her hand to bid him a final, heartbreaking goodbye.
"Knock, knock!"
"Isla, I am coming inside right now!" Lucier's impatient voice violently shattered her fragile peace as the heavy doorknob began to turn.
Isla panicked and frantically sprinted toward the door, but in her desperate haste, her foot twisted sharply on the slick marble, and she crashed heavily onto the cold floor with a pained gasp.
At that exact moment, Lucier pushed the door open, his eyes immediately falling upon her crumpled, trembling form.
Assuming she had genuinely injured herself and that was the sole reason for her prolonged delay, he quickly walked over to her.
"If you were hurt, you could have simply called out for me, and I would have come immediately," Lucier scolded lightly, effortlessly scooping her fragile body up into his strong, unyielding arms.
"What exactly was the absolute need for this pointless struggle? Or... did you purposely injure yourself just to completely ruin our glorious first wedding night? Because if you did, let me assure you, it is absolutely not going to work."
He carried her out of the washroom and stepped directly into the grand bedchamber.
"The room was entirely plunged into a seductive darkness", illuminated only by dozens of softly flickering candles, with the massive bed heavily covered in scattered, fragrant rose petals.
Seeing the terrifyingly romantic setup, Isla's heart began to hammer a wild, suffocating rhythm against her ribs.
"'How am I going to survive this?'" she thought frantically, finding it almost entirely impossible to control the overwhelming, suffocating dread violently tearing at her shattered soul.
Lucier gently placed her down onto the edge of the plush, heavily decorated bed and immediately knelt before her, his large hands reaching out to deeply inspect her supposedly sprained ankle.
However, the sheer, suffocating intimacy of his cold touch made Isla feel incredibly uncomfortable. A terrifying chill violently ran down her spine.
Unable to bear his proximity for another
second, she abruptly pulled her leg away and stood up.
But as she frantically took a desperate step backward to put some much-needed distance between them, her trembling hand accidentally clipped the edge of the small wooden table.
"Crash!"
A heavy crystal wine glass violently tipped over, shattering into dozens of razor-sharp pieces across the cold marble floor.
Before she could even register the danger, a jagged shard of crystal pierced directly into the soft skin of her bare foot.
'Ahhh!' Isla cried out in sudden, sharp agony, instinctively lifting her injured foot off the ground as crimson blood immediately began to well up from the fresh cut.
Lucier instantly rushed to her side. He knelt down once again, his fingers reaching out to carefully extract the bloody piece of glass from her tender skin.
But just as his fingertips brushed against her ankle... he abruptly stopped.
Instead of pulling the glass out, he slowly, deliberately rose back to his full, terrifyingly intimidating height.
The air in the dimly lit room suddenly grew incredibly thick and heavy, suffocating her entirely.
With an agonizingly slow, deliberate motion, Lucier reached out and completely undid her intricate bridal bun.
Isla's wildly beating heart violently skyrocketed against her ribs, her breath completely catching in her throat as her long, dark hair tumbled in beautiful, chaotic waves down her bare back.
He did not stop there. His cold fingers carefully and methodically unclasped her heavy, sparkling hair accessories, letting them drop carelessly to the floor.
Then, he slowly removed her heavy diamond earrings, and finally, he unhooked the suffocating, jeweled royal necklace from her delicate throat, meticulously stripping away every single piece of her royal armor until she stood entirely, breathtakingly vulnerable before him.
Only then did he gracefully kneel back down, swiftly and expertly pulling the sharp glass shard from her bleeding foot.
He stood back up, completely towering over her fragile, trembling frame. His dark, predatory eyes locked entirely onto her brilliant blue ones, burning with an inescapable, overwhelming hunger.
He slowly, deliberately closed the final, terrifying inch of distance between them.
Then, suddenly, he aggressively captured her trembling lips in a fierce, demanding kiss.
Isla's eyes widened in absolute, unadulterated panic. She frantically thrashed against his solid chest, desperately trying to twist her face away and escape his suffocating, loveless hold, but her frantic struggles were completely, utterly useless against his sheer, overwhelming strength.
Before she could even attempt to push him away again, Lucier effortlessly scooped her up.
He gripped her bare thighs firmly, hoisting her entirely off the ground and securing her tightly in his strong arms.
As he continued to ruthlessly claim her lips, completely ignoring her silent, desperate pleas for mercy, his large, warm hand slowly... terrifyingly slowly... trailed down her back, his fingers expertly finding the delicate silk knot of her bridal dress and beginning to pull it completely loose.