And he was staring at me. Really staring, with an intensity that made my breath catch. As if he could see right through the magic-mask veil, through the spell I’d woven into the fabric myself.
The veil was my finest work and enchanted to shield my true appearance from everyone present. Those looking at me would see only a pleasant blur where my features should be; their minds filling in whatever they expected to see in a blushing witch bride.
Yet somehow, Kieran’s gaze remained fixed on my actual eyes, as if the powerful spell didn’t work on him. Which was rude, considering how much effort I’d put into that glamour. Days of trial and error, gone the moment he looked at me.
I’d spent six years wondering what had happened to him, why he’d vanished without a word, why the three most perfect days of my life had ended so fast.
In my mind’s eye, I saw him as he’d been then, laughing as he tried on one of my enchanted scarves, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his entire being radiating warmth and openness. The way he’d lifted a joy lantern up toward the stars, his face illuminated by its glow as he told me he’d never seen magic used to create such pure happiness before. How he’d asked me a thousand questions about my craft, acting genuinely interested in every detail of my process.
That man had been alive, present, and real.
This one stood rigid, his shoulders squared beneath his formal suit that seemed to weigh him down. His expression remained guarded, his posture that of someone who’d learned to carry heavy burdens alone. Two different men wore the same face.
ItwasKieran, though. The man from the festival. The one who’d told me he was a wizard, who’d bought my self-warming scarves and joy lanterns and told me they were the most beautiful magic he’d ever seen. The one who’d held my hand as we watched the dancing wisps during the midnight sky show.
The one who’d broken my heart when he disappeared.
A wizard. I’d thought he was a wizard.
Instead, he was avampire. He had been all along.
Every sweet word, every gentle touch, every promise had been a lie wrapped in charm and a very kissable smile.
And now I was supposed to marry him.
Perfect. Just perfect.
CHAPTER THREE
CYRENE
My hands were trembling so badly I had to press them together. Thank the stars the veil would hide my shock. I needed time to think, to process, to figure out what this meant before I lifted my veil and looked Kieran in the eye.
The lace brushed my lips with every shaky breath, tasting faintly of old magic. My pulse was drumming so hard I could feel it in my fingertips.
Had he known all along that his arranged bride would be me? The thought made my stomach churn. This could be some kind of cruel joke. He could’ve been laughing about it for the past week, knowing that the foolish little witch who’d fallen for his lies would be delivered to him in a lace-wrapped package.
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper, anything to keep from glancing his way. If I saw even a hint of a smirk, I might set the entire ceremony ablaze.
The centaur officiant began speaking in his deep voice about the joining of our two communities, but the words felt far away. All I could focus on was Kieran watching me.
Quandary perked up on my shoulder, his little head tilting as if he’d finally noticed my groom standing on my opposite side. To my absolute horror, he began to purr like a tiny, scaled cat. He only made that sound in times of pure joy.
My treacherous companion. Of course he’d choosetodayto flirt with my nightmare.
Quandary,I said.What are you doing?
But my companion only settled against my neck, still making that infernal rumbling sound. As if he were happy. As if he recognized someone he liked.
Which made no sense at all.
The ceremony continued around us. The centaur spoke about duty and honor and the bonds between magical communities. Vampires in dark, formal clothing sat stiffly on the left side of the garden. Witches and other magical folk on the right looked slightly more relaxed but equally curious about this unprecedented alliance.
And there in the front row, my grandmother beamed like this was the most wonderful thing in the world.
The officiant started asking for our vows, traditional words about partnership and respect and building bridges between our peoples. Kieran spoke his part in a deep voice that sent unwelcome shivers down my spine. He sounded exactly the same as he had six years ago, and it hurt.
When it was my turn, I somehow managed to get the words out without my voice cracking. But inside, screams kept ripping through me.
