Chapter 3
Evan paused, like he'd noticed something, and lowered his gaze. "See you in Emberport in three months, Elena."
He slipped the parchment into his coat's inner pocket. "But before that, there's something you need to do."
I asked, "What?"
"Go to the wedding tomorrow. As planned."
I blinked, thinking I'd misheard him. "You handed me a death certificate, and now you want me at the wedding?"
Evan said, "The death certificate doesn't kick in until eleven tomorrow night. Until then, you're still Lucas's fiancée."
He headed for the side door, his shadow stretching long in the moonlight. "Something's going to happen at the wedding. You need to see it for yourself."
The door closed behind him.
Nothing remained but moonlight and dust.
I clenched the death certificate in my hand.
The paper's edge sliced my index finger, a bead of blood welling up and dropping onto the stone totem.
The lines of the totem glowed for a split second.
*****
The wedding was set in the main hall of Blackwood Manor.
I stood in the dressing room, staring at my pale face in the mirror.
Lucas had handpicked the wedding dress. The whalebone corset squeezed my ribs until they ached.
The makeup artist layered foundation over my skin, trying desperately to hide the dark circles under my eyes.
Someone knocked at the door.
"Elena, ten minutes until showtime." Lucas's voice came through the door. His voice was as warm and attentive as it had been every day for the past five years.
Five years.
Ever since Lucas recognized me as his fated mate at the Rites, he had spent five years turning me from an orphan into the future Luna of the Blackwood Clan.
Every detail of my life, from clothing and food to my social circles, down to every garment on my body and every inch of fabric touching my skin, was stamped with the Clan crest.
A gilded cage.
In my dream, I didn't see it for what it was until I was locked in the attic.
I replied, "Got it."
Once the makeup artist left, I reached into a hidden pocket in the hem of my dress and pulled out a tiny recorder.
Evan had sent it over at dawn, along with a note: [There's a signal receiver under the fourth seat from the left in the third row. Turn on the recorder, and the audio will sync automatically.]
I had no clue what he wanted me to record, but he said something was going to happen at the wedding.
The wedding scene from my dream flashed through my mind again.
In my dream, Lucas stood beneath the flower arch, beaming as he announced to the guests, "I want to introduce a special friend."
Then Monica walked out, five months pregnant and unmistakably showing.
Her jasmine scent drowned out the lilies meant for the wedding.
Two guards grabbed me before I could lift my veil.
Nausea twisted in my gut again.
I clipped the recorder to the inside of my corset and pushed open the dressing room door.
At the end of the hallway, the main hall doors stood wide open.
The organ thundered out the wedding march.
Lucas stood under the flower arch, his gray-blue eyes locking onto me through the crowd.
He reached out his hand.
I walked toward him slowly.
Every step felt like a countdown.
On my twelfth step, the side door of the main hall swung open from outside.
The scent of jasmine crashed into the hall, overwhelming and inescapable.
Monica walked in, wearing a creamy white gown.
It wasn't a guest's outfit. Its style, fabric, and cut were nearly a mirror image of my wedding dress.
The whole room went dead silent for a second.
Lucas's expression didn't change at all.
He didn't glance at Monica, yet continued smiling and reached out to me. "Come here, Elena."
But his scent had shifted.
For fated mates, the awareness of each other's scent was absolute.
Lucas's usual Alpha scent, pine and iron, now carried a restless edge the moment Monica appeared.
It was so subtle that no one else would have noticed.
But I was no ordinary person; I was his Fated Mate.
I could feel every subtle change in him, every hair on his skin responding.
I walked up to the flower arch and placed my hand in his open palm.
Lucas gripped my fingers so tightly my bones creaked. As if to remind himself. Or to hold something back.
The officiant began to read the vows.
Monica quietly took a seat in the second row, right next to Lucas's mother, Victoria Blackwood.
Victoria gently patted Monica's hand, her gesture warm and intimate.
They looked like a picture-perfect mother-in-law and daughter-in-law.
The officiant said, "Lucas Blackwood, do you, in the name of the Moon Goddess, accept Elena Collins as your fated mate, to stay by her side for all your days?"
Lucas said, "I do."
"Elena Collins, do you—"
"Wait." Victoria's voice rang out from the second row.
She stood up, her impeccably preserved face composed in a gracious smile. "Before we finish the vows, there's a family matter that needs to be addressed first."
The main hall filled with the sound of whispers and rustling.
Lucas's fingers trembled, almost imperceptibly.
Victoria reached out to Monica and led her to the front of the flower arch.
Three people stood there under the flower arch: the groom, the bride, and a woman in a bridal gown.
Victoria looked at me, her smile gentle. "Elena, Monica is carrying Lucas's child.
"The Blackwood Clan needs an heir, so from today on, Monica will stand by your side as Lucas's second mate."