I swallow, nodding. “Will you come with me? Please, Ama. Please say you will.”
I can’t help but think of Father Derrik’s taunt. He will take up confession with Amabel when I’m gone, I just know it.
I can’t let that happen. “They were talking about our lineage, our bloodlines. I heard them. Prince Henrik wants us to produce an heir for him, and then he will kill whichever unfortunate girl he’s wed.”
Ama shrugs a single shoulder. “Maybe it will be different for me. Maybe you misheard them. Either way, I can’t leave the church. You know that.”
“Ama, I swear that you will be in danger, too.”
She pushes on, ever the practical one. “Do you need to go back to your room for anything?”
“You don’t understand,” I say, gripping her arms with shaking hands. “Father Derrik does things to me—”
Fists hammer on the lavatory door, scaring the daylights out of us both. “Where is the bride??”
Ama is quick to answer. “She’s in here! She just… needs a minute!”
“What am I going to do?” I whisper, my fingers feeling the tightness of my frilly neckline again.
“I’ll create a distraction,” she whispers back. “On the way back from the lavatory, I’ll pretend to faint. Use that time to make your getaway.”
“I can’t leave you here,” I say, shaking my head. “I won’t.”
Someone bangs on the lavatory door again. “Come out of there right this minute.”
“Ssshhh,” Ama says to me. “I don’t want to go. You do. That’s that.”
“But Amabel—” I try again.
She wrests herself from my grip and unlocks the lavatory door. She sticks her head out, speaking sweetly to our interrupter. “We’re here. We’re coming right now.”
She pauses, looking back at me. “You should stop scowling. They’ll know something is wrong.”
Something is wrong, I think. My sister is being awfully casual about the breaking up of our family unit.
She hustles out of the lavatory, holding the door open for me. I scrub at my face and follow her hesitantly, emerging back into the hallway. It feels strange, wearing this elaborate gown in these hallways. They almost feel smaller, just by my being dressed differently.
Sister Mercy is there, frowning at both of us. “You are needed out in the front of the church, for pictures.”
Amabel and I glance at each other. It’s a risky place to run away from because I have no idea how many people will glance at Ama. At the same time, I will have to go past the churchyard to get anywhere anyway.
After a moment’s hesitation, I nod to her. She turns to Sister Mercy, a huge smile on her face. “That’s wonderful. Are you going that way, by chance?”
Her charms work. The old nun turns and starts waddling that way, allowing Ama to lend her an arm to lean on. Ama glances over her shoulder, her expression unreadable.
A little voice in the back of my head tells me not to trust Ama, but I shake it off. We have a complex history, Ama and I. But we are sisters, after all. That’s got to be good enough right now.
So, I gather my skirts up and start walking. For several long minutes, I don’t know what to do other than to follow them outside. Ama doesn’t give me any clues as to what she’s going to do.
I swallow against the lump of fear in my throat. Am I just being paranoid?
At last, we come around the corner and into the church’s foyer. Sister Mercy pushes at the door and my heart speeds up. I didn’t ask, but what if the Prince is outside?
A wide arc of light spills inside as Sister Mercy opens the door. Ama holds the door for her.
“You go ahead, Sister. And you, Rue.”
My eyes bore into hers as I pass through the door, following Sister Mercy. I’m relieved to find that the Prince and Father Derrik are not among the few people that are outside. The photographer sets up his umbrellas. A few Sisters scurry to and fro with white rose garlands, decorating the church.
Further off, a pair of very well-dressed men walks toward the church, one remarkably tall and one remarkably short. For just the slightest second, I think the taller of the two is looking at me with a strange kind of intensity. I take his measure, finding him wolfishly handsome.
I can feel his eyes on my body, feel his gaze wander to my breasts. I blush, turning away.
Why is he leering at me like that? Then again, I’m the only one in a wedding gown. I guess that kind of intensity is appropriate, today of all days.
Ama makes eye contact with me again. Am I ready?
As ready as I will ever be. I nod back to her.
Ama takes Sister Mercy’s arm, walking her toward the photographer’s umbrellas. I see her cough once, then again. Then she seizes up and topples over into the photographer’s setup, taking Sister Mercy to the ground with her.
Now.
Now’s my chance.
Turning toward the woods, my heart pounding in my ears, I start to walk fast, a girl with a purpose. I reach the side of the church in no time at all.
My heart pounds, the blood rushing in my ears. Though I want to look back, I resist.
Instead, I pick up my skirts and start to run.
* * *
Want to know what happens to Rue next? Her story continues in Punish, the next book in the Cherish series.
Stolen and abducted… yet in the same stroke, saved.
On one hand, I escaped certain death at the hands of people who have already hurt me.
On the other, now I’m trapped with him.
The rival of my abuser, who is every bit as terrifying. Dark and sinfully handsome, he wants me.
He wants me to turn my back on the religion that has raised me.
He wants me to spread my legs for him and him alone.
He wants to punish me. He wants to teach me to like his lessons.
Or else he’ll kill my little sister and turn me over to the men who controlled me before.
Either way, I will have to make sacrifices. Sacrifices that have lasting consequences.
I walk on the knife’s edge between falling prey again and completely losing myself.
And if I’m not careful, I may end up worse than dead...
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About the Author
Olivia Ryann is the dark romance pen name of Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and Amazon Top 20 Bestseller Vivian Wood. She loves poetic phrases and bits of melodic memories. She adores dominant, hard men and soft, fragile women with backbones made of steel. She wants to put them together as often as possible, in unconventional ways.
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If you haven’t ever read any of Vivian’s work, we suggest beginning with Addiction and Obsession.
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Olivia’s Works
Provoke
Punish (January 2019)
Possess (February 2019)
Protect (March 2019)
Capture
Control
Covet
Cherish
Vivian likes to write about troubled, deeply flawed alpha males and the fiery, kick-ass women who bring them to their knees.
Vivian's lasting motto in romance is a quote from a favorite song: "Soulmates never die."
Be sure to follow Vivian through her Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/VivianKWood/) to keep up with all the awesome giveaways, author videos, ARC opportunities, and more!
Vivian’s Works
Bad Beginnings
Bad Behavior
Bad Reputation
Dr. Hottie
Smolder
Hot As Hell
Wild Hearts
Addiction
Obsession
His Virgin
His Best Friend’s Little Sister
Claiming Her Innocence
His To Keep
Promise Me
Knocking Boots
SEAL’s Bride
SEAL’s Kiss
&
nbsp; SEAL’s Touch
For more information….
vivian-wood.com
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Provoke Page 4