EPILOGUE
JACE
I WENT. DIDN’T know why.
Maybe it was the way Andrei looked at me when he handed over the stupid invitation, like he didn’t expect me to say yes. Maybe it was the way he didn’t ask, just slid it across the table with a grunt and poured his coffee like he hadn’t just invited the guy who once drugged the groom.
Or maybe I just wanted to see if I still flinched.
The venue wasn’t some fancy cathedral or five-star hotel. Just a quiet place outside the city, soft music playing, chairs lined up on stone. Snow covered everything in that too-perfect way—like someone had spray-painted it white and told the world to behave for one day.
Andrei’s hand sat steady against my lower back as we walked in. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to.
People were scattered, not many. Family.
