Selara's POV
He broke off his initial shock.
"Selara." The bastard muttered as I approached him, faking a mask of concern on his face. He broke gently from Valmetina's fingers, pulling back his ring and hiding it in his pocket as he shifted to me. "I didn't know you were alive. Thank hell you are alive. That you came—"
I didn't let him finish. I had planned to control myself, but I just couldn't hold onto the enormous weight of the rage and murder splitting me apart from the inside.
My arm went up, and my palm crashed against the side of his face.
He staggered back immediately at the weight of my slap, holding tight to his cheek, face contorted in pain.
Valentina stepped forward, her face red. "How dare you slap my man, bitch." She raised her hand for me.
Before it could land, his hand shot out from somewhere. He flung her hand back, so hard she staggered too. "Don't try that, you don't hurt my mate unless you have no use for your hands." He snapped.
For a moment, my mind drifted from the scene to the fact that he had just touched Valentina, and nowhere in her face was there a sign of extreme pain like I felt when he touched me.
Her brows only narrowed with rage, and her lips twisted in disdain.
But then again, the murder in my veins overwhelmed my curiosity. I shifted back to Sylas instantly, my veins scorching like it was housing lava and not blood as I stared at him.
"Why would you slap me, Selara?" He yelled, still holding his reddened cheek. "You were the one who cheated, the one who ran away with another man, pretending you were dead." He lied blatantly to my face, looking more to the large hall behind me than at me.
He was trying to corroborate the lies he told about me to the media and the nonsense he'd published to explain my disappearance.
I stared at the room, at the darting gazes from the seats, the whispers sizzling the air, everything, and gradually, moisture stained my eyes again. Not that I cared if the crowd believed him. I didn't give two cents what they think.
My pain stemmed from him, watching the man I had given my youth to, and much of my adult life, lie blatantly on me without even a pinch of remorse after what he did to me.
I shut my eyes tight, blinked back every trace of tears, no matter how little, and then I turned to him and Valentina, who had pulled up beside him.
His hand slipped to claim her waist possessively. I didn't feel even an inch of jealousy, seeing them together. But I still felt the rage, just like I felt the despair from knowing I wasted years of my life on a bastard like Sylas.
"Get out of our wedding, bitch." Valentina snapped, throwing her hands to the door. "Get out, and take your uncouth boyfriend with you. Or else I will have my father—"
I exhaled to get calmer and more composed, and I glanced at Darian. "Why don't you add more to the list of things she can report to her father?" I said.
"Sure, my lady." Darain chuckled playfully. He tipped his head in a low bow at me.
Then he strolled to the altar, moving behind the priest, who was already shaking terribly behind his lectern.
"You might want to tell him about this, dear." Darian slipped Valentina an evil grin as he grabbed the floral arch behind the priest.
He threw it, and it sailed halfway across the room, into the midst of the guests, who jumped away from it.
"I am sorry, " he grinned wryly, waving his hand at them. "But don't you think that thing is ugly?"
"Just like this, too." He grabbed onto one of the flower vases by the altar. "I don't think this fits… oops." He whistled as the vase dropped to the floor and shattered into pieces. The cry rang through the silence in the room.
"My bad." He looked up at Sylas and Valentina, feigning concern, with narrowed brows. His gaze slipped back to the broken pottery. "I am sorry, I am not usually this clumsy."
Valentina's face darkened to a mask of rage. She grunted, her hostile glare jumping from Darian to me. "Both of you should get out of here, get out of my wedding hall, or I will make sure you both regret today."
I didn't pay her any more attention. I had no business with her. I stepped forward and closer to Sylas, sizing him from head to toe.
All the memories we have shared over the years filtered into my mind, but I chased them away. Those thoughts were now taboo in my mind. I wanted to be completely erased if it were possible.
Velentina leaned out her hands, trying to push me back from Sylas. I nudged my eyes in Darian's direction, and then back at her.
I waited until she got the memo. And she did, stepping back and withdrawing her hands. Good.
I stopped just two feet away from the bastard, Sylas.
Now, he didn't bother to pretend. He looked up at me with hostile eyes, jaw clenched tight from suppressed fury as he glanced from Darian to me. "I'll give you back just two weeks to unpublish and take down all the lies you put up about me in the media and then hand over everything you took from me, else…"
"Else, you will fight me, with him." He glanced at Darian and then back to me. He'd dropped the facade now, letting his real evil nature show. And that was a lot easier to deal with. His lips slipped into an uneasy grin, and he tried his best to handle his trembling chin. "Even with his help, you can't do anything, Selara. I control the Lycan Council now."
"Well, my ultimatum stands. Return everything you stole from me and take down all your lies about me, or you get to have a front row seat watching how I bring you down back to the nothing that you were before I came into your life." I said.
I made sure that sank in, then I turned to Darian, "We are done here."
"Okay," he said, with a shrug of his broad shoulders, "If you say so."
He dropped the two other vases he'd picked up again. "Oops." He grinned at the couple again. "Told you I am a little clumsy."