"See this? This is what Kayden hunted," Finn said. "A rare silver lion—exceptionally precious. By tradition, the groom must present his kill to demonstrate loyalty. But unfortunately, I'm far too weak to hunt. So Kayden, being the devoted brother he is, hunted it in my stead."
I stared at the dead creature, the entire room seeming to tilt and spin.
"Would you like to touch it?" Finn asked, tone thick with sick anticipation. "My bride, would you like to touch the gift your future husband prepared for you?"
Violent nausea surged up my throat. I whirled and bolted from the room, desperate to find Kayden and demand answers.
But two guards had materialized at the doorway, barring my escape.
"Move!" I screamed. "Move! I need to see Kayden!"
"I'm afraid that's impossible, Miss Gray," one guard said flatly. "By tradition, the bride cannot leave the preparation chamber before the ceremony."
I lunged at them, trying to force my way through. The guards stood immovable as stone. The impact sent me staggering backward, and the carefully crafted bouquet flew from my grasp, arcing through the air before crashing against the threshold.
The crash seemed to trigger something—a thunderous noise erupted from inside the cottage.
The guards' expressions changed instantly. They shoved me aside with brutal force and rushed into the room.
I hit the ground hard, dust staining the pristine white gown. My elbow cracked against stone, pain shooting through the joint.
But I felt nothing.
I simply sat there, staring blankly at the ruined bouquet on the ground.
In their violent rush, the guards' heavy boots had trampled straight over it. Fresh, delicate petals crushed into the dirt, reduced to mangled pulp. Worthless refuse.
How absurd.
I'd believed I was marrying Kayden. I'd believed the bond between us meant something. I'd believed I could finally have happiness.
But from beginning to end, it had all been my delusion. Just like this bouquet.
Tears fell without warning, fat drops splashing into the dirt, spreading into dark stains.
Then a guard's terrified shout pierced the air from inside the cottage.
"Mr. Finn is dead!"
Chapter Three
Layla
The world became a boiling cauldron, and I stood at its center, seared by gazes sharp enough to burn through my soul.
Finn's body was draped with a hastily found black velvet cloth, carried out by two stone-faced guards. The fabric didn't quite cover him—one pale, skeletal hand dangled free, swaying with each step like a withered branch.
This isn't real. None of this is real.
"Quick! Someone get the healer!"
"Seal the area!"
"Moon Goddess, what's happened?"
Footsteps thundered from every direction. Pack members near the Sacred Ground heard the commotion and came running. Within moments, the preparation room was suffocating with bodies.
I rose mechanically, my torn hem dragging across the floor, disheveled hair falling across my face. My mind had gone blank. I could only stare numbly at the chaos unfolding before me.
