Chapter 2

Anna's POV

The sun sank toward the horizon, inch by inch.

Sunset was coming.

In the magic mirror, the wedding procession wound through the town square. Seraphine sat in an open carriage, waving at the crowds. Julian rode beside her on horseback, close as a shadow.

She said something. He leaned down, laughing—that angle, that tenderness, like a blade in my gut.

I stared at the scene. My chest felt like someone was carving it open with a dull knife.

Two hours until sunset. Two hours until I became that tyrant's prisoner. And my fiancé was still drowning in his sweet little moment with another woman.

Maybe he didn't even realize it himself. Or maybe he'd wanted to marry her all along.

"Anna." Mother's voice cut through the transmission spell. "Where's that Morning Dew Essence bottle? Bring it out. We need it as a wedding gift for Seraphine."

My heart sank.

That bottle—three months ago, I'd delivered Marchioness Cecilia's twins alone in the countryside. She'd nearly died. Afterwards, the Marchioness herself gave me that bottle, made with Aethelis secret arts. She said there were less than five in all of Veridia.

"No."

Silence.

"What?"

"I said no." I took a breath. "I EARNED that. Healing the Marchioness—"

"Seraphine took your place at the altar for YOU!" Mother's voice shot up. "She sacrificed her own reputation, and you can't even spare ONE bottle? When this wedding's over, you'd better get on your KNEES and thank her!"

"Anna, how can you be so SELFISH—"

I cut the transmission.

My fingers shook.

First time. In twenty-six years, this was the first time I'd said no to her.

I remembered.

Thirteen years ago, a monster horde attacked the border. Seraphine's parents—my uncle and aunt—died so my parents could escape. Father took her in out of guilt. And from that day forward, an unspoken rule governed this house:

We owed Seraphine. Always would.

After the first wedding was canceled, Mother said Seraphine's broken leg was because I "didn't take care of her." She forced me to hand over Grandmother's sapphire necklace.

Mother said: "You're not even hurt. Why should you wear something so valuable? Seraphine needs it more."

The second time, when Seraphine claimed evil spirits possessed her, they hired three exorcists. Father paid the bill with my savings—years of savings.

He said: "If it weren't for your wedding, Seraphine wouldn't have gone through that."

After the third time—the "bandit kidnapping"—the magic cloak I'd sewn myself with elven silk, the one I'd embroidered for eight months, Mother took that too to "comfort" Seraphine...

Every time, there was a reason.

Every time, it was my fault.

Twenty-six years old, and the only precious thing I had left was that bottle of Morning Dew Essence.

I opened my trunk and started packing.

Documents, herb pouch, spare clothes. One by one, I folded them in.

This time, I wouldn't give them anything. Not anymore.

Noise erupted downstairs.

The flower carriage had returned.

"The treasure hunt begins!" Julian's voice rang out. "Seraphine and the bridesmaids hid gifts all over the manor. Find one, and you'll win a reward from the groom!"

Footsteps thundered up the stairs.

The bridesmaids giggled and scattered into different rooms.

I kept packing. Didn't look up.

The door SLAMMED open.

Three men burst in—Lucian at the front, Julian's cousin, the kind of guy who lived in gambling dens and taverns.

"Well, well. Anna." He leered. "Seraphine said one of the gifts is hidden in the tower."

"There's nothing here." I backed away. "Try somewhere else."

"We don't take YOUR word for it." He glanced at his buddies, licked his lips. "We'll have to 'search' for ourselves."

Arms grabbed me from behind. Slammed me down onto the bed.

"Let go—"

Lucian climbed on top, grinning. "Seraphine was right. Your body really IS something." His hand shoved toward my chest. "Too bad Julian's not man enough to enjoy it."

Damn it!

I thrashed. The trunk toppled. Herb bottles rolled across the floor.

"HELP! Someone—"

Downstairs, the footsteps stopped.

Julian's voice drifted up. "Is that... Anna?"

Seraphine laughed, blocking him. "Julian, our game's not over yet. Maybe my sister's just looking for something. If you're THIS worried about her, what about me?"

Mother chimed in. "Don't bother. She's not the bride today. She's upset, wants attention."

Father sighed. "Let her vent. She'll calm down. Let's keep looking."

The footsteps moved away.

No—

Julian—

Please—

"Bitch, hold STILL!" Lucian's hand cracked across my face.

Pain exploded. My vision blurred.

"You hear that?" He grinned, filthy. "No one's coming."

My collar ripped. Cold air hit bare skin.

"No—get OFF—" I struggled. "I'm the Shadow Lord's bride—"

Lucian leaned down. Liquor and sweat, the stench gagged me.

"What bride? Your man threw you away, slut."

"Let's see what you got, sweetheart."