16. Amber

Hours later,I stand in front of my full-length mirror, my reflection barely recognizable.

The dress—my wedding dress—clings to every curve, its crimson fabric shimmering with each movement I make.

It's custom-made. Damien, seemingly wanting to be prepared for this since I arrived, had my measurements from my training gear used to design the dress.

There's no denying that it's beautiful. Flowing, full skirts, hand stitched lace across the bodice, and spun from a material that shimmers like silk.

But it's not me.

I don't know what sort of wedding gown I'd choose, since I've never been the type to fantasize about my wedding day. But I know it wouldn't be this. Because even though the dress is custom made, the bodice is too tight around my ribs, like it's trying to suffocate me along with the vows I'm about to make.

The humans assisting me are fluttering about, helping me get ready. Beyond the necessities, I've barely spoken a word to them, as they haven't to me.

Eventually, there's a knock on the door.

My heart catches in my throat.

I'm not ready yet. I'm not sure I'll ever be ready. But apart from that, it's too early for the wedding to start.

"Ma'am?" one of the girls—Sophie—says.

I wince at the formality. "Don't call me that," I say, since it makes me sound like an old lady. I'm nineteen, for Heaven's sake. I'm getting ready to walk down the aisle—not to march to my grave.

"Okay." She blushes, glances at the floor, then looks back at me. "Should I let them in?"

"Sure," I say, since I can't exactly leave whoever it is standing outside.

She hurries to the door and opens it.

I'd do it myself, if I wasn't being held captive by the curling iron one of the other girls is using on my hair.

Morgan and Abigail are waiting on the other side. They're dressed in their gowns, Morgan a sight to behold in an orange and yellow dress that almost glows like fire, and Abigail in more earthy tones, reflecting the shifter life she was born into.

Relief floods me at the sight of them.

"I'll take it from here," Abigail says, prying the curling iron from the human's hand.

The three girls look to me, needing my permission over Abigail's.

"You can go," I tell them, and then I add, "Thank you."

After all, it's not their fault that I'm about to marry for practicality instead of for love.

They bow their heads and hurry out, leaving me alone with Abigail and Morgan.

Abigail continues the process of curling my hair, as if she's done this many times. Morgan simply looks on in concern.

"Did you see anything?" I ask her. "Visions of what this marriage will be like?"

I need something—any bit of hope—to cling to.

"I tried," she says. "I didn't get anything. I'm sorry."

I'd say it's okay, but it's not.

"Thank you for trying," I say instead.

"Of course," she replies.

Abigail finishes another curl, then sets down the iron, meeting my eyes in the mirror. "You won't be alone in this," she promises. "We'll be here with you, every step of the way."

"Thanks," I tell her. "That means a lot."

"It's the truth."

She continues with the rest of my hair, silent for a minute, focusing harder than she did for the previous curls.

I know she's here as a source of comfort. And I appreciate it. At the same time, it makes my heart hurt knowing that my mom isn't here to witness my wedding day.

"There's something else," she says, letting the final curl fall loosely down my back. "I'm sure you've learned how strict vampires are regarding the permanency of marriage."

"I have."

"Shifters don't feel the same," she says. "We believe that the most important romantic connection is that between mates. We respect marriage vows, but we also understand that a person's first love doesn't have to be their last love, no matter how much they believe at the time that it is."

"You talk as if you're still one of them," I say.

And as if I love Damien.

Which, clearly, I don't.

I also know that's not the point of what she's telling me.

"In my heart, I will always be a shifter," she says with a wistful smile. "And I know that if you leave your marriage with Damien after you've finished what you need to do here, the Pine Valley pack will take you in. Especially since you're not a vampire, and you're therefore not bound to their laws. You're star touched, like Ruby, and she and Connor are the alphas of the pack. Shifters respect their alphas. Just like I know they'll respect you."

Her words are touching.

Yet, they do nothing to calm my nerves.

Because I don't want to leave Damien alone to be ostracized by the clan he's worked so hard to build. Plus, this promise I'm making isn't just to him. It's also to them. I'm stepping up to be their queen, and whatever else happens, I want to be the best queen I can be.

They're counting on me.

And I know with everything in me that I don't want to let them down.