The chapel smells like roses and fear.

Rows of nobles, cameras, and judgment line the pews. My father’s hand rests on my arm, heavy and warm, guiding me toward a future I don’t want. The train of my dress trails behind me, whispering over marble like it’s trying to hold me back.

I should be thinking about my vows. My kingdom. My duty.

Instead, all I can think about is the man standing at the back of the chapel. Tall, still, eyes fixed on me like he’s watching a car crash he can’t stop.

Rowan.

My bodyguard. My oldest friend. My impossible.

His uniform is black, crisp, unforgiving. There’s a tiny scar near his temple, a reminder of the time he threw himself in front of me during a protest gone wrong. I told him once that the scar made him look dangerous. He told me danger was relative.

He doesn’t look dangerous now. He looks desperate.

The priest’s voice drifts through the air.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today—”

The words blur. My pulse drowns them out.

Beside me is my groom, Prince Lucas of Verdan. He stands tall and polished, his profile perfect for every camera angle. He’s handsome, courteous, and utterly empty to me. This marriage will join two kingdoms, my father says. It will bring peace, trade, strength.

It will also erase me.

My fingers tighten around the bouquet. I can feel the tremor in my hands even through the gloves. If I faint, that would make a headline. If I run, it would start a war.

So I stand there, pretending my lungs aren’t burning.

Then my eyes find Rowan’s again. He shakes his head once, small, and barely visible, as if begging me to do something I can’t even name.

“Do you, Princess Serena Vale, take Prince Lucas—”

The priest doesn’t finish, because a voice cuts through the air like a blade.

“I can’t let this happen.”

Every muscle in my body locks. The entire chapel gasps at once.

No. No, no, no.

I turn toward the sound, I already know who it is.

Rowan.

He’s moved away from the wall, standing in the center aisle now, between me and the door. His expression is steady, but his chest is rising too fast. His hands are fisted at his sides. For a moment, he looks like a man ready to face an army.

My father stands, voice like thunder. “Captain Hale, what is the meaning of this?”

Rowan doesn’t even blink.

“This wedding cannot go on.”

The room erupts in whispers. My heart slams against my ribs.

“Rowan,” I whisper, but it comes out strangled. He can’t hear me. Or maybe he does, and he just doesn’t care.

Lucas glares at him, furious. “You’re out of line, guard.”

Rowan’s gaze flicks to me. And everything else disappears.

The walls, the guests, and the clicking of cameras are gone. It’s just him and me.

And then, in front of hundreds of people, he says it.

“Because she’s already promised to me.”

The world stops spinning.

Someone drops a glass. My mother lets out a soft cry. My father’s face turns a shade of red I’ve never seen before.

Rowan’s voice doesn’t shake. “You can’t make her do this,” he says. “She doesn’t love him. She doesn’t belong here.”

Lucas steps forward, his tone sharp and cold. “Guards—”

But Rowan raises his voice, eyes never leaving mine.

“She belongs with me.”

The breath leaves my body. I can’t move. I can’t think.

Every nightmare I’ve ever had about duty, about exposure, about wanting the wrong person is happening in front of the world’s cameras.

I hear my father shouting orders. The guards rush forward. They hesitate for a fraction of a second, Rowan is their commanding officer, but duty wins. They grab his arms.

“Rowan, stop!” I cry, taking a step down from the altar.

He doesn’t fight them. He doesn’t look afraid. He just looks at me, and says, quietly, “I love you.”

My throat closes. The words echo through the cathedral.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

The guests gasp. Cameras flash. Somewhere, someone is already leaking this to the press. My mother slumps in her seat. Lucas looks like he’s going to strangle someone.

“Enough!” my father bellows. “Remove him from this place!”

“Wait!” I shout. “Don’t hurt him!”

Two guards hesitate at my tone, I’ve never raised my voice in public before. They look uncertain, and that’s enough for me to move.

I lift my skirts and step off the altar, ignoring my father’s warning tone. My heels click against the marble floor. I stop right in front of Rowan.

Up close, he smells like cedar and rain. His jaw is tight, a small bruise forming where one of the guards grabbed him.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, voice breaking. “You’re ruining everything.”

“I’m saving you,” he says simply.

“From what?”

He leans in, eyes fierce. “From a life you never chose.”

The words hit deep. Too deep. My chest aches. I shake my head, tears stinging. “Rowan, you can’t—”

“I can.” His voice softens. “And you know why.”

My heart cracks open. “Say it,” I whisper.

He holds my gaze. “Because I love you.”

The guards start pulling him back. Panic surges through me. I don’t think. I just reach out and take his hand.

Gasps echo around the room again.

“Serena!” my father roars. “Let him go!”

But I don’t. I look at Rowan, and all I can say is, “I’m sorry, Father. I love him.”

Chaos. Screams. Flashbulbs. The crowd turns into a storm of noise and disbelief.

Rowan’s grip tightens on mine. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters.

“I already did,” I whisper back.

He looks around, calculating, the soldier in him taking over. “Then we need to leave. Now.”

I blink. “Leave?”

“Unless you want to spend your honeymoon in a cell.”

He doesn’t wait for my answer. He pulls me forward, and suddenly I’m running down the aisle, through a sea of gasping guests, through the doors and into the blinding daylight.

“Rowan!” I gasp, trying to gather my skirt. “What are we—”

“Starting over,” he says, and his voice is so steady, so sure, I almost believe him.

We sprint across the palace courtyard, the echo of shouting guards behind us. My veil catches the wind and tears free, fluttering to the ground like surrender. My chest is on fire. My shoes are ruined. I’ve never run this fast in my life.

A black car waits near the stables. Rowan throws open the door, helps me inside, and slams it shut. The engine roars to life. My heart feels like it’s trying to beat out of my ribs.

Through the window, I see my father standing on the palace steps, furious, helpless. I should feel guilty. I should feel afraid.

But all I feel is free.

I turn to Rowan, breathless. “You just committed treason.”

He glances at me, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Worth it.”

I let out a shaky laugh that feels half like a sob. “You’ve ruined my life.”

“Good,” he says quietly. “Maybe now it can finally be yours.”

The car speeds down the hill, the palace shrinking in the distance until it’s just a white blur against the horizon. My crown is gone, my dress is torn, and the man sitting beside me just detonated my entire world.

And I can’t stop staring at him.

His hands on the steering wheel are steady. His jaw clenches every few seconds like he’s trying to hold himself together. He looks both furious and heartbreakingly calm.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

He doesn’t look at me. “Somewhere they’ll never think to look.”

A pause. Then softer, almost a whisper: “Somewhere you can breathe.”

I look out the window at the ocean glittering in the distance, at the open road ahead. I should be terrified of what comes next.

Instead, for the first time in my life, I feel alive.