“Zion!” Isolde’s hysterical voice tore through the air.
She stood at the altar, which now looked like a stage of ruin, her white gown whipping violently in the valley wind, the bouquet in her hands crushed until petals scattered across the ground.
“Where are you going?! The ceremony isn’t over!”
Zion didn’t answer. He stood in the middle of the grass, eyes locked on the winding road where a black car had just come to a stop.
His breaths were heavy, as if his chest struggled to contain something far greater than nerves.
The car door opened slowly.
Ryan stepped out first, then turned toward the passenger side, lowering himself slightly as he extended a hand.
“Careful. The ground’s a little slippery.”
And from within, Arwen emerged.
The crimson gown wrapped around her slender frame s
