Her green eyes flashed like the edges of twin swords. “I’m not marrying you.” She hissed it. Decreed it. Acted as if she had a say in the matter when she didn’t.
“Too late, you already did marry me.” He kept his voice pitched very low so only Stefano and Brielle could hear. “We’re man and wife and I absolutely refuse to allow you out of our agreement. You’re a shadow rider. Your word is everything. Would you really go back on your word?”
She tilted her chin at him. “I’ll appeal to the head of the shadow riders.” She all but hissed the declaration, keeping her voice pitched just as low. “They have to know what an arrogant, smug . . .”
Elie studied her defiant little face. Her entire body trembled. There was faint color beneath her pale skin. Her breathing had changed. He didn’t know the first thing about relationships, but he did know women and their reactions to him. At that moment, their shadows weren’t connected. Brielle might protest their marriage, but she was attracted physically to him whether she wanted to admit it or not. That gave him somewhere to start.
“Stefano is head of the shadow riders here.” Elie cut her off and gestured to the man who still held her arm.
“Is there a problem?” the priest asked.
“Give us a minute,” Stefano said smoothly. “This isn’t the place or time to air your differences,” he added, lowering his voice again.
“I’m not marrying him,” Brielle insisted. For the first time she looked around the church at their interested audience. She lowered her eyes, color sweeping up her neck into her face.
Elie found it rather adorable that she blushed. He didn’t know too many women who blushed and rather liked the idea that his wife did. “You already did marry me legally, Brielle,” he reiterated. “Stefano, she was always meant to be mine. I said some unfortunate things in my youth to her which she has never forgiven, although I apologized numerous times. We were matched together when we both put in for an arranged marriage. What are the chances of that? We were married by proxy, and both signed legal documents. I don’t wish to terminate the marriage.”
“Is this true, Brielle?” Stefano asked.
Brielle sighed. “Yes, but—”
Stefano shook his head. “If what Elie says is the truth, then you must continue with the formality of this wedding. After, we will sit down together and mediate the problems between you. At the moment, there does not appear to be a true reason to terminate the arrangement. If anything, it appears as if the two of you are meant to be together and fate is determined to make certain you are. We will proceed with the formal wedding and the two of you can work this out through mediation after the ceremony.”
Brielle shook her head. Her nails dug into Stefano’s forearm without apparent awareness. Elie wanted to capture her hand and ease the tension out of her by gently rubbing her fingers. She looked both terrified and furious. She had no one. Not one single person to aid her. Stefano was her only hope.
“I can’t marry him. You don’t understand.”
The little break in her voice shook him. He would have gathered her into his arms to comfort her if she would have let him, but he was the last person she wanted comfort from.
Stefano bent his head to hers. “Brielle, you are already his wife. I assure you, I am a fair man. I will listen to everything you have to say if you really wish to get out of this arrangement. Shadow riders do not break their words lightly, so I am aware you must have reasons to want to walk away from a contract that you entered into of your own free will.”
Brielle searched his face for a long time before she nodded her head. “I have to trust that you’re a man of your word. I don’t have anyone else to rely on.”
“Where is your father?” Stefano asked. “He should have accompanied you.”
Her chin went up again, and her eyes, although clouded with pain, met Stefano’s defiantly. “He disowned me when he believed I was rejected as not good enough to marry an Archambault. He wanted me to go to Elie and beg forgiveness for my shortcomings and plead with him to reconsider. When I refused, he wouldn’t have anything more to do with me.”
Stefano’s gaze met Elie’s and there was a flash of pure anger. Elie knew that same anger was in his eyes. “Let’s get this done and we’ll talk in private after, Brielle,” Elie said. He turned over in his mind the way she’d phrased that to Stefano. He believed I was rejected as not good enough. Not that she was rejected as not good enough. He filed at that away to pull out again when they were alone.