Amara's POV

I stood before the mirror, staring at the reflection of a woman I barely recognized. The red silk clung to me like it belonged to someone else, someone fearless, confident, powerful. But that wasn’t me. Beneath the glamour, I felt hollow, as though I’d been painted into a version of myself I couldn’t sustain. The makeup, the curls, the sultry dress, all of it was armor and armor was only useful if you could bear its weight.

My hands trembled as I reached for the zipper on ...