"Sixty minutes, Elora." Maya, my wedding coordinator, tapped her silver pen against her clipboard. "Are you ready to become Mrs. Thorne?"
"I've been ready for two years," I said. My fingers brushed the delicate white buds of the baby's breath bouquet. I had specifically asked the florist to wrap them around a few hidden white roses, thorns intact.
"Your dress looks flawless," Maya added. She crouched down, adjusting the heavy silk train of my gown. "Where is your sister? She’s supposed to be helping you with the veil."
"Selene said she needed to fix her makeup."
"Well, find her. I need you both in the staging area in ten minutes."
"Did you confirm the string quartet?" I asked.
"Yes, they are setting up in the garden right now," Maya replied. "Are you absolutely sure about the vanilla frosting on the cake? Kael mentioned he preferred dark chocolate. He called me twice this morning about it."
"I compromised on the venue," I said. "He can compromise on the cake. Besides, vanilla is classic. It's what we agreed on months ago."
"Fair enough. Call Selene. She has the rings, and the photographer wants group shots in the conservatory before the guests arrive."
Maya hurried down the corridor. I pulled my phone from the small bridal clutch on the table and dialed my sister’s number.
It rang twice. Then went to voicemail.
I adjusted my grip on the floral arrangement and walked toward the bridal lounge. The thick carpet absorbed the sound of my steps. The hallway smelled of fresh lilies and expensive wax.
I reached for the brass handle of the lounge door. It sat slightly ajar. A sliver of golden light spilled onto the hallway floor.
A faint, muffled ringtone drifted through the gap. Selene’s phone.
Before I could push the door open, a voice followed the electronic melody.
"Your phone is ringing." Kael's voice was low, rougher than the gentle tone he used with me.
My hand froze in the air.
"Ignore it," Selene answered. A soft thud echoed off the walls. "It's probably just my sister freaking out over a misplaced napkin."
"You should answer it."
"Why? So I can listen to her whine about her perfect day? I'm busy."
"Selene..."
"Are you annoyed, Kael? Does it bother you that she's out there playing the blushing bride while you're in here looking at me like you want to devour me?"
"You talk too much."
"And you think too much. Look at me."
My stomach twisted. The hallway suddenly felt entirely devoid of oxygen. I pressed my fingertips against the cool wood of the door.
"You don't have to do this, Kael," Selene said, her tone shifting to a mocking whisper. "You can still run."
"Don't start, Sel."
"I'm just saying. Look at this wedding. It's a joke. She's so... predictable. A baby's breath bouquet? A pure white dress? She's vanilla, Kael. You hate vanilla."
"Shut up," he muttered.
"Make me."
A sharp scrape of wood against the floorboards followed.
"Are you going to pretend you don't want this?" Selene asked. "Even now? One hour before you sign your life away to a woman who schedules her intimacy on a calendar?"
"I'm marrying your sister."
"That's a fact, not a defense."
"Selene, stop."
"You're the one holding my hips, Kael. If you really wanted me to stop, you'd drop your hands."
"You drive me insane."
"I keep you alive. She bores you to death. Tell me I'm wrong."
I pushed the door inward. Just an inch.
"Tell me to leave," Selene whispered. "Say the word, and I'll walk out of this room. I'll go stand next to her at the altar and smile."
"You know I won't do that," Kael replied.
"Then prove it."
Through the narrow opening, the mirror above the vanity reflected the entire room. Kael had Selene pinned against the edge of the makeup table. His hands gripped her waist, his knuckles white against her dark purple bridesmaid dress.
"You're ruined," he growled.
He slammed his mouth down on hers.
Selene laughed against his lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Her fingers tangled in the dark hair I had lovingly trimmed just three days ago.
My gaze dropped to the floor.
My backup wedding dress—the reception gown I had hung so carefully on the wardrobe door—lay in a crumpled heap on the floorboards. Selene's silver stiletto dug directly into the pure white silk. She ground her heel into the delicate fabric as she kissed my fiancé.
"Kael," she moaned into his mouth.
"Quiet," he ordered. He kissed her harder, his hands moving up her sides. "Someone will hear."
"Let them."
I couldn't scream. My throat locked tight. Instead of a sob, a hollow, empty silence swallowed me whole. A bizarre sense of calm washed over my burning eyes.
I took a step backward.
*Crunch.*
My thin-soled shoe came down on something hard. A dropped champagne flute, abandoned in the hallway, shattered under my weight.
Jagged glass sliced through the satin fabric of my heel. The shards drove deep into my skin.
I didn't flinch. A high-pitched ringing erupted in my ears, drowning out the physical agony. The sound masked the sting in my foot. The world tilted, spinning on an axis of pure betrayal.
My fist closed tighter around my bouquet. The hidden rose thorns pierced through the floral tape. They dug into my palm, snapping under the sheer force of my grip.
Warm liquid pooled in the center of my hand.
"More," Selene begged from inside the room.
I squeezed the stems until the wood cracked. Blood slid down the lifelines of my palm. A single crimson drop fell.
It hit the pure white hallway carpet with a muted splash.
Then another.
And another.
The ringing in my head grew deafening. The scent of vanilla frosting from the kitchens below suddenly made me nauseous.
Inside the lounge, Kael suddenly tore his mouth away from Selene's. His head snapped toward the door.
"What was that?" he demanded. His chest heaved rapidly.
"Nothing," Selene pouted. She reached for his collar, trying to pull him back. "Just ignore it."
Kael shoved her backward. Her spine hit the vanity mirror with a loud crack.
"I said, what was that?"
He took a wide step toward the door. His dark eyes locked onto the narrow opening. He didn't see my face. I stood perfectly still, hidden in the shadows of the corridor.
But Kael's gaze didn't search for a face. His eyes tracked downward.
They fixed instantly on the bright, fresh droplets of blood staining the white carpet just outside the threshold.
