There was something eerie yet peaceful about standing in the darkened grove. Tall, willowy trees circled the clearing, their branches weaving together to form a secluded wall. Dozens of candles burned around me, their flames flickering softly against the bark. I had lit them an hour ago, long before my hands began to shake.
I was running out of time.
Every man presented to me as a potential husband had left my stomach churning. The thought of their hands on my skin made bile rise in my throat. I wanted none of them. But wanting had never mattered. Duty did.
I could not let the coven down.
Magic stirred deep within me. Magic I had chained and suppressed for years. It was dangerous. Forbidden. And yet it pressed against my ribs now, restless and impatient, as if it knew what I was about to do.
Elowyn.
The whisper slithered through my thoughts, soft and familiar. I shook my head, forcing it away.
This was foolish. Desperation always was. What if the fates answered with something far worse than the men I had already rejected? What if they sent me a monster?
The black lace veil draped over my face blurred the edges of the grove as I waited, heart pounding, breath shallow. The space I had carved out hummed with magic, the air thick and expectant.
My spell was simple:
Fates old, fates new, bring me a man blessed by the moon.
The one my heart can love.
The one my soul recognizes.
Bring me my husband.
I shall know it is him when he steps inside the binding circle I have made.
So let him find me.
Let him join me.
Once we enter the circle together, we shall be wed.
Wind whispered through the grove, making the candlelight tremble. I wiped my damp palms down the front of my black wedding gown, suddenly too aware of how still everything was.
The dress felt excessive for a summoning ritual. The deep V bared more skin than modesty allowed, lace tracing my curves as if daring the fates to look too closely. It fit snug across my chest, secure yet light, leaving me free to breathe.
Thin straps rested against my shoulders, my collarbones exposed beneath the flickering glow. The skirt brushed my legs as I shifted my weight, the fabric soft and unforgiving all at once.
I hoped my husband would like it.
My throat was dry as I waited, already worrying about the first words I would say. I wondered what kind of man themoon would send to me. I wanted kindness more than beauty, gentleness over power.
I knelt at the altar, waiting. For fuck’s sake, I should have said bring him to me immediately. This was ridiculous.
Unless the fates have decided that I do not get anyone.
My damn mother really fucked me over. If she would have picked literally anyone else to have a child with, then I wouldn’t be cursed. The candlelight flickered again. A familiar scent filled the air around me—a light scent of fire on a cold night. I closed my eyes and breathed it in.
Now I was being haunted by Abram’s scent. The moon was mocking me for wanting a god and thinking that I might have a chance. He would never notice me, not really. That was fine because I was about to meet the man the moon picked for me. Maybe this was the start of my happiness.
Elowyn.
I shook the whisper from my thoughts. Not now.
“I’ve been thinking that this is unsafe.” His voice drifted around me, and at first I thought I was hallucinating. “Are you really going to marry a man you don’t know?”
