Rhysand’s POV

“Fucking hell!”

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I could not give a fuck who heard me. I slammed my glass onto the counter, splashing golden whiskey across the dark wood.

The bar inside my father’s mansion was empty except for me and Maurice and the dark thoughts in my head. The only sound was the steady sound of people still chatting in the main hall down the corridor. The wedding guests, or whatever was left of them after most of them had ...