Mara
Three weeks passed. I almost let myself believe the Nighthorns had changed their minds. No word, no message, no summons.
I let myself dream—maybe they’d called it off, maybe Darian had succeeded, maybe the nightmare would end quietly without a final act.
But then my mother told me the date was set.
The wedding was in one week.
I had never been so afraid in my life. My chest heaved until I vomited—over and over—desperate for it all to be a bad dream I could wake up from.
But the dream was real. And it was wearing white.
Darian and Rowan were still gone. Still silent. Still unreachable. I tried not to feel abandoned, but that’s exactly what I was—left behind. Left alone.
My mother and I went gown shopping. The whole time, I felt like I was sinking through the floor.
She didn’
