"Leslie," I sighed, "I can't accept all of this," I pleaded, putting the white dress back on the bed.

Leslie was sitting in the chair by the desk, looking at me intently. We had spent the last two days debating whether or not I should go to the Summer Fest or if I should just ignore it. But this morning, when they started setting up for it, placing lawn chairs and tables everywhere, creating almost a small stage, and then when they started bringing out the food, I got weak and accepted.

"Luna, we talked about this," she started. She had finally caved and started calling me Luna instead of Miss Jones. Every time she did, I got this icky feeling inside of me. "You're our guest of honor," she continued, a soft smile on her lips, "and the guest of honor needs to wear a white dress, and she will wear a flower crown on her head. And then you have to sit on the throne, eat, drink, laugh, and simply have fun. It's our tradition, and we will get sad if you don't do this for us."

A sigh escaped my lips as I yet again grabbed the dress. It was incredibly beautiful and would definitely look good on me. It was only for one night, and it would be something I did for them, for those who had welcomed me, kept me company, talked with me, gotten to know me. But my gut was saying something else; something deep inside of me was going; don't do it, just don't, it's okay to say no.

"I'll do it," I answered, "but then I want to do something special for you before I leave in three days," I warned her, lifting a finger at her, all the while I couldn't stop smiling.

I had been so busy talking with Leslie and her friends about all the town gossip that I had forgotten what happened in my own life. A lot of the talk circled Liam, and how he was the father of half the small children in town, but wouldn't claim any of them. When I heard that, I couldn't help but laugh out loud, practically snorting my tea right into Leslie and her friends. What an ass.

"Alright, alright," she said, shaking her head at me. "We'll see about that when we get there."

After my shower, which ended extremely cold-not just a little, but fucking freezing-I dried my hair and put on a light makeup. I fixed up my eyebrows, put on some light mascara, and put a gloss on my lips, making them shine in the sunlight. It had gotten extremely warm; summer had arrived in Ireland.

I threw the dress over my head, seeing how it fit snugly around my breasts, but not in a bad way, and flared out at my hips. It had lace sleeves, which hung loosely around my arms. The skirt of it was loose as well, and it moved gently with my movements. I looked in the mirror and couldn't help but think that I looked like a modern-day princess.

I curled my hair into loose waves, putting some more volume into it, knowing it would make it look even more fairytaleish when I got the crown of flowers on there as well.

Downstairs was Leslie, standing in a beautiful summer dress. She smiled widely when she saw me. The dress fitted her loosely, making her body look like a field of flowers. Her face was beaming, happiness and joy shining from her. Just like she had said, today was a good day. It was the day when we would welcome summer. We would be dancing, eating, and drinking it forth. She had warned me that the men would be extremely nice to me tonight, since I was the beautiful woman-her words, not mine-that they were celebrating, as a goddess, as the one who would let in the summer. Just great.

"Oh my," she sighed dreamily, her hands clasped over her chest. "You look positively gorgeous, Luna!"

"Right back at ya," I answered, giving her a grin.

I hugged her as I reached the bottom. She had been nothing but amazing since I got here, acting like a surrogate mother to me, acting like I wished my own mother did. She had listened to all of my problems, had given me a tight hug, and told me not to worry my pretty head about it, because I was young and beautiful, and I was talented, so I would be just fine.

She found the flower crown behind her desk. It was beautiful, filled with different greenery sticking out in different directions. So many different flowers were put in, and I didn't know half of the names for them. But they were beautiful, the colors so amazingly vibrant. Both blue, yellow, red, purple, and pink colors shone at me.

I crouched down slightly, making it so that she could place it on my head, which made us both laugh.

**

"Cheers!" Apparently, everyone had to drink every time I lifted my glass off the table, which only made it more fun to do, and also made me quite intoxicated quickly. The wine was incredible, and it tasted divine with all of the different foods. They had made everything: lamb, pork, chicken, and beef. There were potatoes in every shape, and a lot of vegetables. All of the different dishes were placed in little bowls in front of me.

"To our Goddess!" Even Ed toasted. The one who had been nothing but sour and moody since I got here was smiling and beaming with joy today.

Liam was perched on a bench, a girl underneath each arm, smiling and laughing while they prided themselves on getting his attention, even if it was only for the night.

I tasted all of the divine food. I drank plenty of wine. I laughed every time the drunk people tried to dance on the designated dancefloor of the evening. It was right in front of me, making it easy to see the spectacle. Beyond that, there were a lot of different people who came up and told funny stories about the year that had passed.

It was a great party. People were just having fun, enjoying the fact that they could let loose, that they could just enjoy themselves. The drunker they got, the harder it was for me to decode their accents. But even through my hardship, I could still sense when it was acceptable to laugh and when not to.

"How are you doing, dearie?" Leslie stood next to me, her smile beaming right at me. I think I answered something about being awesome, or something to that effect, at least. "That's lovely! Here," she said, taking a golden bottle out and filling the liquid into my glass. Everything on my table was made of gold. "Drink some of this, it is the most amazing thing you'll ever taste!"

I was beginning to have a hard time focusing and concentrating. It was hard to gauge how to act. And around all of these drunk people, I couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably, eating so much food I was afraid the dress would rip, and then I drank even more. I drank, and I drank, and I drank.

Whatever Leslie had put in my cup, it tasted different. It didn't taste like the red wine I had consumed earlier, but it had a sweet and fruity taste. I licked my lips and looked into the glass, but I couldn't place the taste. Another sip. More! Yet another sip.

Be careful. My gut feeling. Put the glass down. Why are they being so nice to you?

But before I could do anything, I felt my body going limp. It felt like my thoughts were pushed to the back of my head, like it was fading out. And suddenly, everything went dark.

**

My entire body jumped when I could suddenly move again. You can't move. My eyes slowly opened. Practically no people were left on the square, everyone having opted to go home. Darkness had slowly crept in, starting to overthrow the summer night, but you could still hint at the sun in the background, coating the sky in a beautiful dark purple.

I looked down. I was tied down. My brows furrowed. I tried to move my hands, but my arms were tied to the armrests of the thronelike chair I was on. My feet were tied to the chair legs, tied so tightly it hurt to move them. They had even put a rope around my middle, tying me to the back of the chair.

I tried to scream, but no sound came through. A piece of fabric was tied around my head and put into my mouth. I was now wide awake. I tried to fight my way free. My eyes flittering around, but the dancing people on the square didn't even look up at me, it was like they didn't even care.

Help me! I tried to scream, tried to get words to leave my mouth, but it turned into weird, unrecognizable sounds. Help!

No matter what, I wouldn't give up. I kept yanking the chair, kept trying to move the ropes. Everything hurt and cut into my skin. My screams turned into cries of agony.

The last of the people disappeared, and the last thing I saw was Liam's green eyes and his smile. He smiled triumphantly, like he had won something.

What the fuck is going on?!

My thoughts kept circling, kept moving around faster than I could register them. I could feel a headache pounding at the back of my head. What had I been drinking? It must have been whatever Leslie brought me that made me pass out. What have you done?! My mind kept yelling at me, only resulting in the headache getting worse.

The sun disappeared completely out on the horizon, and made room for the night sky to kick in. My head leaned back, and yet again I looked up at the stars, feeling my tears streaming down my cheeks. What's going on? I sobbed between the screams that I tried to push past the fabric.

Someone, somebody, had to be able to help me, to hear my prayers.

Help me! Just this once!

As if an answer to my prayers, a white, shining light suddenly appeared. It came right in front of me, shining bright like a star that had fallen to rescue me. The light was blinding and hurt my eyes, just like it would if you looked into the sun for too long.

Out of the light, a hand came through, like it was reaching out to me. Another blood-curdling scream left my lips. What the fuck is going on?! A scream of pure terror.

Help me!

The light started fading, turning weaker and weaker. I couldn't resist looking towards the spot where it had just shone so brightly it almost made me blind. But instead of the light, there was a shadow, a presence. A man. He was tall, so unbearably tall. Falling over his broad shoulders was a beautiful, thick, orange hair. Even in the darkness, the different shades made it look vibrant, like light was actually shining from it. He was wearing a white tunic, which stretched across his broad shoulders and protruding pecs, before it fell loosely around his middle, being tucked into his brown leather pants.

He looked like a fairytale character. He looked like something out of a fantastic novel.

His eyes suddenly met mine. They looked like fire, they looked like the flames licking over dry kindling. It felt like the fire represented the emotions flaring inside of him, like they were so extreme they could burn you alive, so suffocating he couldn't possibly keep those feelings inside of him.

His face was painted, kind of like a kid after a trip to the zoo. But this wasn't just a butterfly or tiger face paint. No, this was intricate work, like someone had taken every vibrant color of the rainbow and stroked his face with them, trying to make them highlight his already divine face.

The tears still rolled down my cheeks, being put forth from the intense feeling of pure, unadulterated fear. My scream turned louder, every ounce of air in my lungs being used to push out the fear rolling inside of me. I'm not gonna be taken by some crazy man with paint all over his fucking face.

And he had the audacity to look surprised, like he hadn't thought I would react like that. His eyes slid down my body, taking in the ropes tying me to the throne I was in. And finally, something happened. It was like the sight of me tied up set him in motion, and the course of action he chose was to step towards me.

The confidence in his steps was evident, like he was so utterly confident in every single movement, like he had already decided exactly where each step would take him and how he would move with it. He was elegant but fast; he was efficient but magical.

He went behind me, almost like he was floating above the ground. His scent hit me as he bent down. I could feel him trying to loosen the fabric around my head. He smelled like the sun, scented like summer in a bottle, like warmth and ice cream melting.

A sound hit me, one that reminded me of singing. It made me stop screaming, trying to figure out where the sound came from. It soothed something inside of me. I quickly realised it was coming from him, almost like he was talking to me. But none of the sounds he made registered as a word in my ears; instead, it sounded like notes, like he was humming along to a melody I didn't know.

The fabric finally loosened around my head, and I could finally wet my lips, actually moving my tongue just a little. He quickly removed the ropes from my ankles and my hands. You could clearly see the red marks on my skin, like proof that I had actually been tied down, and tied down hard. It was proof that I hadn't just resigned myself to my fate, but that I had actually tried to get away.

Behind me, he loosened the ropes around my middle as well, making it possible for me to finally move my aching body.

Run!

Before I could second-guess my thought, I started running. I jumped down from the stage they had put me on. My legs were practically numb, except for the jarring pain of a million needles pickling at them. But my brain in survival mode made my body move forward, even if it was rather like watching a newborn giraffe taking its first steps.

As I moved across the square, as far away from the weird man thing that had appeared in front of me, I was stupid enough to look over my shoulder. I expected to see him standing there on stage, but no one was there. There wasn't a tall and mysterious man, at least not any longer.

My head spun back, and I just barely got to bring my hands up to soften the blow before I crashed right into him. It felt like running straight into a brick wall. My body reverberated, and I fell back on my ass, pain screaming up my hips as I collided with the ground.

Tears started flowing again, as I felt like my life was just about to end, as the fear simply gripped every inch of me, shaking me brutally. I lifted my shaking hands, trying to protect my face, trying to do anything in order to shield myself.

"Please, don't hurt me," I pushed through quivering lips, my eyes closed tightly. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't kill me, please."

Heat engulfed me, my shaking hands getting covered by big hands. Slowly, he removed my hands from my face, making me open my eyes. He was crouched in front of me, his large body curled above me, but not in a threatening way. His flaming eyes lit up in the darkness, but there was no aggression or anger in them. They were hypnotic to look at, magical, enchanting. You simply couldn't look away. He looked back at me with an almost hurt expression, like it was paining him to see me like this.

It was probably the last thing I had thought I would see in his eyes, the exact opposite, actually. His gigantic hand rested on my cheek, warming the skin that had turned cold because of my tears. Carefully, his thumb moved across my cheekbone, wiping away the tears. A tenderness showed in his face, followed by his lips parting, and then the same sound came yet again. Even if it was just a jumble of sounds, the look on his face, the hurt in his eyes, and the calmness of them all made me feel safer, like I could actually let my guard down around him.

He helped me onto my feet, only magnifying the ridiculousness of his own height. I wasn't a short girl by any means, but by his standards, I was so unbelievably short. He was probably two, maybe two and a half heads taller than me.

I looked down between us, seeing my hands engulfed by his. They were so large as well, his fingers rough, calluses growing between them, but they were still so soft, still so careful, still-almost-loving.

What the fuck is happening?!

The feeling curling in my gut told me to keep running and then just hope I would survive. Just hope that I would be able to get away from him, hope that he wouldn't be able to get to me. But as I looked back up, his eyes enchanted me.

The colors of his irises changed between yellow, orange, and red. Like an actual fire working its way around his pupil. It was ever-changing, making it something you could look into for a lifetime, without ever being tired of seeing them intertwining and moving with each other.

The same bright light came back, but this time it enveloped me just as well as him. Fear started gripping me again. What the fuck is happening?! My mind tried-sensibly-to pull me away, tried to make me hurry away from whatever this was.

Suddenly, for only a split second, there was nothing but darkness. But an empty darkness. There was no emotion, there was nothing recognizable, there was nothing to sense. There was simply nothing.

Then everything returned, like a punch to the face, and I was flooded with everything all at once. The sun was beaming above me, the heat bearing down on me. Birds were chirping around me, the grass scenting the air around us, and I could hear water, like something streaming down rocks.

My eyes broke away from his for me to look around, to see everything my other senses were registering.

I had ended up in a magical land. The sun was yellow, it was warm and loving against my skin. It heated the cold spots on my cheeks, caressing my face gently. The grass underneath me was tall, growing freely, and impeccably green. It reached my knees, covering up my feet in the flats I was wearing. Further away, you could see a stream which ran between and divided the huge fields surrounding os. The fields were an array of colors; some were green, some were yellow with rapeseed plants, and some were filled with purple, red, and blue flowers.

Behind me, a humongous palace was towering towards the sky. It honestly looked like it was made out of gold. The three towers were so tall, they could touch the sun and get some of their color from it. All around it was an array of different gardens, one with a large greenhouse where there were a litter of beds to grow different vegetables. There was one with a labyrinth so low it wasn't meant to be one to get lost in, but simply one to enjoy to reach the fountain inside of it.

"Finally, you're here." The dark, rumbling voice that came from him shocked me. My eyes landed back on the orange eyes, before I looked down at the smile blooming on his lips. "My beautiful bride."

Like glass splintering, I could feel my mind catching up to what was happening. What in the Stockholm Syndrome-

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you." His hand caressed my cheek tenderly, a touch so soft you could barely feel it, but the actions behind it spoke with nothing but devotion.

I cleared my throat, shaking my head slightly as I stepped back, trying to break the spell he had me under. My dress caught slightly on the grass around me as I did. "I'm sorry, but what did you just call me?" My eyebrows shot up as I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to protect myself, putting up my only armor.

His smile got wider, showing me an amazing row of white teeth standing perfectly in line. "My bride, my partner, my beloved. What word would you prefer I use according to your culture?"

"My culture?" As if that question had just revealed him to me, I could finally see all the differentness in him. His muscular and tall body. His clothes, which, as I thought about it, looked positively ridiculous. His eyes, which were seemingly a little larger, and his very pointy ears.

"A lot happens in your world over a few hundred years," he mused, a crooked smile tugging more at the left corner of his mouth. But that smile made something tingle inside of me, made my knees weak.

I turned around, deciding that it was probably safer if I couldn't look at him. I couldn't concentrate, I couldn't gather my thoughts.

He thought I was his bride, which meant he would want to get married, and he would like to get married to me. But that just didn't make any sense. All I could think was why. I turned back around, meeting his intense gaze. Something new was playing in them, moving around the irises, something that looked a lot like humor.

"Who says I wanna marry you?" I asked, trying to sound calm and collected.

His head fell back in a big laugh, a laughter that could shake mountains, a laugh that made you want to laugh. It sounded melodic, but so unbelievably powerful at the same time. "What a brilliant question," he said, a bright smile on his lips. "Well," he started, squaring his shoulders and clasping his hands behind his back. "I'm a pretty fun guy, if I'd say so myself," which made me narrow my eyes at him. "I'm charming," he tried, that same smirk back on his lips. "And, I'm a king."

My eyes widened at that, my body stilling. A king. My eyes traveled over his body yet again, trailing over his prudent physique, the way his face was still painted, and suddenly, I could see it. But then... would that mean I would become a queen?

I cleared my throat, trying to collect myself yet again. "King of what?" I asked, trying to sound like it didn't affect me, like it didn't matter to me.

"I'm the King of Summer, I command the Kingdom of Summer," he said, spreading his arms, "I rule over everything you see, and more," he added, shooting me a wink.

"That sounds made up," I said, narrowing my eyes further at him, crossing my arms over my chest. "I've never heard of the Kingdom of Summer."

"You're standing in the middle of it," he answered, grinning at me, like I was the one being ridiculous. But then, suddenly, he got down on one knee right in front of me, forcefully taking my hand from my arm, and looked me straight in my eyes. "Will you marry me?"

What the fuck is going on?!

I pulled my hand back hard, making it so he couldn't touch me. "Are you absolutely insane?!" I took a step further away, looking down at the magical man in front of me. "I don't even know your name or anything. I'm not gonna fucking marry you. I-I wanna go back now," I said, trying to square off, trying to seem confident, "this isn't funny anymore, and you need to take me back."

He got back up, wiping his hands on his pants. It was as if I had wounded him, the way he looked down at the ground, the way he seemed to shuffle his feet a bit. His hair fell forward into his face in a cascade of colors, and just like his eyes, it looked like flames licking across his face.

"You can't go back," he said, looking at me through the long strands of his hair. "You belong to the Kingdom of Summer now." He let his hand slide through his hair, making it look so soft and luscious I couldn't help but want to move my hands through it as well.

Belong to the Kingdom of Summer?!

"What do you mean?" I asked, panic starting to grow inside of me. I had to go back, I was supposed to leave Ireland and go back to my mother in a few days.

"You know," he said, his voice insinuating that I was playing dumb or something. "You were sacrificed to me, to the Kingdom of Summer."

Sacrificed. I'm officially a sacrifice now.

"No," I said, pulling on the word. "I don't know!" The panic rose further and further inside of me, my heart starting to pound in my chest. "I was just on a goddamn vacation!" I looked up at him, my eyes trying to beg, trying to convince him to let me back. But he just looked confused. "I was offered to be celebrated as a Summer Guest, no one told me I would be sacrificed!" And as if I hadn't cried enough, tears started rolling down my cheeks yet again.

Help me, help me, help me.

A very frightful feeling of captivity floated across my body, the kind of panic you would feel whenever you were in an elevator and it shut down, or from being trapped in a small dark room. I was stuck.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up, like he understood the situation, like someone lit a lightbulb over his head. And then, sadness entered his eyes, like he understood the feelings floating through me.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," he muttered, looking down at his hands as his fists clenched tightly. It was like he was angry on my behalf, like he was actually feeling bad for this. "It was supposed to... you were supposed to agree to being sent here; you were supposed to want to go here. That was the agreement."

A resigned sound left my lips, my hands rubbing my face. "What agreement?"

He sighed as well, like this was irritating him as well. "Five hundred years ago, I offered my help to the people, making sure their summers were regular, no drought, no floods, but enough heat and water so their crops would grow," he explained, using his hands as he talked. "De were grateful for my help, and they wanted to give something back." He looked down at his hands again. "There's an enchantment on me," he sighed, "I have to marry a human woman and grow happy with her," he continued, meeting my gaze yet again. "So I asked for a woman, for a sacrifice to me and my kingdom. I told them that they could have five hundred years of prosperity, five decades of healthy growth, and then a woman would have to volunteer to come here and to marry me."

So much information.

"But I didn't volunteer," I said, already stating the obvious. My brain was trying to gather all the information he had dumped on me, trying to figure out what to do with it.

"No," he agreed, his voice turning darker.

"What happens now then?" I looked up at him, at the gorgeous face behind the paint, that now looked twisted in anger, like he despised what they had done to me.

"I have to go back and punish them," he answered, searching my face. "This is injustice. I should have known when I saw you tied to the chair, when you screamed bloody murder. They were supposed to give me someone who wanted to be here. This is unacceptable."

"How are you gonna punish them?" Even if they sacrificed me, even if they tied me to that chair, even if they drugged me, I didn't wish for them to be punished. They had just done what they thought was right, they had tried to save their own, and they had done so well.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I'll have to make sure it won't go them well, like it has the last five hundred years," he said, his hand moving to the back of his neck. It was obvious he didn't want to punish them.

"What if I stayed?" I regretted the question the second it left my lips. Why should I sacrifice myself for them? As if my brain immediately answered, I saw them in front of me, I saw the people dancing at the gathering, drinking, smiling, having fun. I saw the community they had, the life they had together, the ones they held dear, the children, and all of them probably survived on those crops.

"You would do that?" he asked, his tone baffled by my suggestion. "Why? Why would you do that?"

Why would I do that? I couldn't answer that question myself.

I shrugged my shoulders, and he instantly knew, he could see that I didn't have an explanation for my decision. I didn't have a solution, I didn't have a clear thought, all I had was a wish that nobody else suffered.

"I can't promise you a marriage," I said, lifting my hands upwards in a defensive position. "But if it'll save the town..." the words disappeared in my mouth.

"You have honor." Not a question, but a statement.