I sat by the edge of my bed, my gown spread around me like a pool of ivory and regret. My hands trembled as I touched the veil laid out beside me. It shimmered in the lamplight — a fragile, perfect thing. I hated it. I hated that every thread in it had been chosen for a future I didn’t want.

A soft knock sounded.

I didn’t have to ask who it was.

“Come in,” I whispered.

Damon stepped inside, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his face shadowed and tight.

“You shouldn’t be ...