Chapter 2
1189 Words
~HUNTER~
Anxiety was not a usual emotion for me, at least not in the last five years. After the death of my mate I'd grown cold and emotionless. It was what I had to do in order to survive heartbreak. This was also something I'd mastered in the past couple of years. It took time, I had to do things I'd never thought I would have ever done in this lifetime, unforgivable deeds that still haunted me. But eventually I'd become the man I needed to be to go through life without constantly feeling bitterness and pain.
But for some reason, Isabella Cross had the ability to make all of the walls I'd built around myself feel like absolutely nothing. The girl had it in her to poke at all of my buttons and make me want to feel again.
Images of my dead mate flashed before my mind like a curse that wouldn't leave me. I felt immediate anger and regret overpower any other emotion. I'd promised myself to never feel anything for another woman again. It was an oath I'd taken. One that I was willingly breaking. I squeezed my hands into fists, not pleased with what I'd done today.
Why did I do it? Why did I go against everything I stood for? What for crying out loud made me accept Isabella as my bride?
I still remembered the first time I'd laid my eyes on her. She was like a breath of fresh air. And suddenly, my heart that hadn't moved in years was alive again.
It was an emotion I'd chosen to bury the moment I'd realized what it was. It was the reason why I was so desperate to choose Eden over her. I wanted a woman in my life that meant nothing to me, someone that wouldn't cause me pain when she left me behind to pick up all of the broken pieces.
I also needed someone that possessed all of the qualities of that of a good wife. I'd had women in my life before, multiple mistresses but none of them made the lonely feeling go away.
Despite having so many women around me I still felt alone all of the time. It was my main reason for wanting a wife. The loneliness was taking a toll on me and I wanted that feeling to go. Then there was the fact that everyone that had known my late wife kept asking whether or not I was scared of remarrying. No matter where I went, the question always came up. Everyone wanted to know if I had another woman in my life by now.
I would hear the whispers of pity in whatever room I entered. I preferred the fear in people's eyes when they saw me; I hated to see that look of pity on their faces.
The sudden gasp from everyone in the ballroom was enough to bring me straight out of my dark thoughts. I lifted my gaze from the floor and felt a rush of emotion swirl straight to my head as Isabella made her way down the aisle all dressed up in a pretty white wedding dress. Her long black hair that was usually tied up in a messy bun was left to flow gracefully down her slender back. The dress they'd chosen for her was perfect for her figure, it left me to wonder whether they'd already have this dress prepared for her marriage to that other man the prosecutor had mentioned.
I felt instant rage at that reminder. If I hadn't agreed to this wedding, they would have married her of to some other man that wasn't me.
Now I was left with the overwhelming knowledge that I'd brought all of this upon myself.
I tried to wipe any more emotion from my face as Isabella neared me. Her hands on her father shook and her eyes were on the ground most of the time. Not once did she look my way and I was grateful for that, her pretty eyes often left a lasting effect on my body. A feeling that I'd rather not put myself through right now.
Her father didn't look happy as he let go of her hands so that she could stand opposite me. Neither did the rest of her family. Her brothers looked like they wanted to murder me and her sisters were in tears. Isabella on the other hand, I couldn't figure out what she really felt. And she was the one I actually wanted to know about.
Did she want this wedding to happen?
Should it matter to me?
"Please hold hands." The frightened marriage officer ordered. It was clear as day that the council had forced the man to be here today.
Isabella's hands were shaking as she brought them forward, prompting me to hold them and stop the bloody thing from shaking. I clenched my jaw, angry that the first thing I thought about was stopping her discomfort and fear. I shouldn't care. I shouldn't.
Those feelings were quickly replaced by a rush of feverish desire the moment her small warm hands clasped around mine.
As the ceremony started, I was suddenly reminded of my first wedding. I tried to ignore the memories I'd worked so hard to bury. In order to do so, I had to focus on the woman in front of me. Weirdly enough, gazing at Isabella Cross worked a lot better than the drinking ever did.
It bothered me that even up to now she wasn't looking directly at me. She seemed like she was avoiding my eyes for some reason.
I didn't like that.
I wanted to know what she was thinking.
I wanted to know it so badly that for the rest of the entire ceremony that was all that was on my mind. When it came to putting the ring on her finger, I had to fight my past memories from resurfacing once more. I didn't think remarrying someone would be this difficult. But for some reason, I knew that Isabella helped in some way or the other. I felt a part of me come alive as I slipped the ring in.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife . . . You may kiss the bride."
My body tensed and felt rigid all over.
Kiss the bride?
I hadn't thought about this before. Kissing Isabella was dangerous. My eyes fell to her pretty pink lips and I had to stop the groan in my mouth. What had I done? There was no one to blame but myself, I'd agreed to this wedding. And now I had to kiss Isabella when that was the one thing I was avoiding.
But if I was to do this, I had to do it right. Not when she wouldn't look at me. I bit the inside of my cheek and frowned down at her.
"Look at me Isabella."
Her entire body went still at my demand. Slowly, she peered up at me with wide innocent yet dreamy, hard not to lose yourself in eyes. It was in that moment that I knew I'd screwed up big time.
Fuck!
- Writer
