Elara's POV
“What kind of barbaric tradition is that?” I hissed, my voice low but shaking with disbelief. “There’s no way I’m doing that.”
I tried to pull away from Thorne on the dance floor, but his arm tightened around my waist like a steel band. He slammed my body flush against his.
We kept moving to the slow music, but now every inch of me was glued to him. Heat poured off his body, burning through the fabric of my wedding dress.
“You don’t have a choice,” he whispered coldly against my ear, his lips brushing my skin. “So you better listen to me.”
“Let go of me, you freak,” I glared up at him, my heart hammering wildly.
Thorne scoffed, his silver eyes narrowing. “You actually think I want to touch you? Don’t think so highly of yourself.”
“Like I want your hands on me,” I spat b
