The Billionaire's Fairy Bride

eight. Her reflection stared back at her, the pale skin and dark circles under her eyes a stark contrast to the silver strands of hair that stubbo

Yet, as she rummaged through the sparse contents of her wardrobe, the truth became painfully clear-sh

ere far from what was needed for an evening at the Blackwood estate. She bit her lip, frustration bubbling up inside her. This was not how it was supposed to be. Once

ma

ad been a level 10 magic producer, a rare and powerful status that had made her a beacon of hope in the icy lands of her birth. Her aura had been so brig

urface. She knew that elves could sense magic; they could smell it in the air like a predator smells fear. And in Aranda, w

felt a flicker of desperation. She needed to look presentable, to at least appear as though she belonged in t

had long since hidden away. It was like digging through layers of ice, each one thicker and colder tha

for the occasion, but it was worn and faded from years of use. Aria willed her magic to rise, to flow through her fingertips and into the f

imple cut of the dress was transformed, the neckline becoming more elegant, the hem falling just above her ankles with a subtle flare

nd light-headed. She had forgotten how powerful she once was, how easily she could have done something like t

e gold pendant and a ring bearing the stamp of their family crest. The pendant had been her father's most cherished item, a symbol of their lineage and the pow

gible connection she had to the life she had lost. Wearing them felt like both an honor and a

ol metal sending a shiver through her body as it seemed to pulse with a faint, residual magic of its own. Dressed in the black gown, with her father's jewel

and she instinctively reached for the magic she had just used, ready to defend herself if necessary. But

cautiously, and the

one. He was taller than she remembered, broader in the shoulders, but the warmth in his smile was the same. Roderick had been her father's most trusted advisor

ith a mix of relief and urgency. "I

sight of him standing in her doorway. "Roderick

is aura, which had always been a comforting shade of green, began to shift to a bright, a

o make sense of what he was saying.

more serious. "There are forces at play, Aria, forces that want

of danger. Aria could feel the tension radiating from him, and it only serve

d?" Roderick asked, his voice low. "Do you remem

blood, the flames that had consumed her home. And Roderick, pulling her from

rick continued. "They've been searching for you eve

in her throat. "Who?

Blackwood," he said finally, the name hanging in the air like a curse. "He's been searching for you, Aria. He

od. The name was familiar, and with it came a flood of memories-of Damian, of Lucian

struggling to find her voice.

you to strengthen his hold on the Blackwood empire, to make

g to piece together the puzzle that had suddenly been thrust upon her. Marcellus Blackwood, the man who had alway

took a step closer to her. "I need you to trust

eful, more insistent. Roderick's aura flared, his orange glow turning a fiery red as h

yes narrowing as he prepared

inct screaming at her to run, to hide. But there was nowhere to go, n

on fierce. "No matter what happens, Aria,

rgotten. She was not just a runaway princess, not just a girl trying to survive in a world that had tur

as ready