In the mirror she looked like a princess on her wedding day, but the confusion and revelations of the last few days dampened her elation and excitement.
This was all wrong.
“Are you ready, Your Majesty?” one of the handmaids asked.
Ana took a deep breath. “As ready as I’m going to be.”
The handmaids helped her exit the door where the flower girls were waiting. As Ana turned into the corridor, they positioned themselves either side of her long train.
Since arriving at the Royal Sanctum, the ceremonial building where all royals married, Ana had practiced the route from her room to the altar twice. Ryden had stationed numerous knights along her route, as well as some knights to walk alongside her, which was a fair precaution, but all it did was add further strangeness to the day.
Usually when Ana had visited the venue, the serenity of the place settled her mind and uplifted her heart with a hopeful and romantic mood. Behind the main building was a beautiful garden, and situated at the end of it was the altar, an open structure where couples exchanged their vows. The walk through the gardens signified the shedding of one’s old life and the embracing the rigor and beauty of a royal life together. It was a sacred place to wed, and Ana had been looking forward to her wedding day for years; the day she would finally echo the marital vows of her ancestors and every queen who had come before her. But the venue had lost some of its magic. Maybe it was the knights who surrounded her, maybe it was her lingering concerns about Ryden, or maybe the absence of her parents weighed heavily on her. Either way, the idyllic beauty she’d imagined for her day wasn’t there.
However, as Ana reached to the top of the stairs where she would begin her walk to the altar, it was hard not to be in awe of the sight of the grounds before her. The altar’s legendary gardens spread out, vast and luscious in its abundance, color and greenery. Tables and chairs set with satin emerald and white lace were decorated with flowers. The tables dotted the main area where the invited guests were waiting. A private woodland bracketed the gardens on one side, and on the other was a public viewing area where the Allandis people had gathered to watch, cheering when they saw Ana. Next to the altar, an orchestra played, the melodious strings soaring through the air and finally tugging on her spirits.
Ryden had already made his walk and stood under the thick archway decorated with flowers. She could just about make out his smile as he looked back at her.
At her entrance, the orchestra’s music faded and the white-robed herald at the bottom of the stairs cleared his throat. “His and Her Majesties, royal houses, Lords and Ladies, give way for our royal bride, her Majesty, Princess Analisa of Allandis.”
Guests from the royal houses and high society all looked upon her expectantly as the orchestra struck up again. Ana took a breath to steady her nerves. This was the most iconic part of all royal weddings—the bride’s walk across the gardens. All she had to do was make her way down the steps, through the guests, and to the altar—the guests had even parted to make an aisle for her.
Ana began to descend down the steps keeping her head high. She took in the beauty of the sights before her and tried to draw upon the excitement of the event and ignore the signs that things weren’t perfect—such as the large number of knights positioned around the edges of the gardens or that the most important people in her life were not there. Milly wasn’t among the guests smiling in encouragement, Mother wasn’t standing at the edge of the altar in her favorite ceremonial dress, and Father was not waiting at the foot of the stairs, waiting to assist her along the aisle.
Ana swallowed hard, pushing back the lump in her throat, and kept her eyes on Ryden, reminding herself that this was her true ascension into adulthood. She reached the bottom of the stairs and forced herself to relax as she began her walk.
A series of loud whips followed by muffled puncture sounds disoriented her. Then, all at once, every escorting knight around her fell to the ground, each with an arrow protruding from their chests. Ana froze—a silent horror building as their bodies twitched and jerked. When the flower girls began screaming, the shrill jolted her out of her stupor. Her head snapped up to Ryden, but he was too far away. Around the gardens, knights stumbled, as if attacked by some invisible force, and many dropped down like her guards had.
The guests realized what was happening and their voices rose in alarm as they began to run for shelter. The orchestra stopped playing abruptly, and the din from the crowd of commoners rose.
Ana couldn’t help but scream at the horror of the dead bodies that surrounded her. Limp and crooked, some with open mouths of horror or surprise. The Alphas on the ground were men who were supposed to protect her, and terror gripped her at the idea she was so exposed and vulnerable.
She looked around frantically, trying to determine where the arrows were coming from or who was attacking them, but strange men suddenly appeared in the gardens. Huge, bulky Alphas dressed in layers of brown and grey, gripped swords or daggers. Each wore a black cloak with a hood that whipped around them as they attacked the remaining knights. Ana’s heart jumped into her throat. Their black cloaks were almost the same as Maddoc’s red one.
He was here.
Grabbing her skirts, she ran toward the altar. All she needed to do was get to Ryden and he would protect her—he’d said he could. She could see him looking at the guests and yelling but couldn’t hear what he was saying. Just as his eyes landed on her, and relief softened his face, his whole right side jerked backward and he stumbled before falling to his knees, a thick arrow protruding from his shoulder.
Ana screamed, her fear blooming so quickly it overwhelmed her. No! Ryden couldn’t be shot. She ran harder to get to him, but the guests scattered across the gardens blocking and obscuring her way as they tried to head to an exit.
A bellowing roar of multiple voices filled the air and the crowd slowed in confusion, giving her a chance to see an army of royal knights charge into the gardens from nearly every angle. She almost cried with relief at the sight of the royal insignia on their chests and the flag that rippled above their heads. Her father was here too! A sudden urge to find her father cut through her fear. No matter what happened between them, he would protect her, but she couldn’t leave Ryden.
The quickening swish and clash of metal, deep grunts and yells signaled that the gardens had turned into a battleground and screeches filled her ears as the crowd became wilder in their attempt to get away, but she pushed forward unsure if she was still looking for Ryden or seeking out the protection of her father. She wasn’t even sure where she was in the gardens anymore, but when a man stepped in front of her, parting the crowd like a rock in a creek, her whole body jolted, her horror turning into pure terror.
Maddoc stood staring at her with those hard, soulless eyes she’d seen when he first entered their room; only this time, the intense anger in them made her mouth dry. That familiar shiver and tremble burst into existence, and she edged backward, words frozen on her tongue.
He strode toward her, their eyes locked as though nothing else existed—as though no men fought and died around them, as though no arrows whipped by their heads. He wore the same layered clothes as before, complete with his red hood, but armor covered his chest and legs and the end of an enormous bow peeked over one of his shoulders. Within moments, he’d closed the gap between them, and as she turned—too late to escape—he swept her up with one arm, her back flush against his chest.