Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“Let’s try this one,” Opal says after I’ve undressed for the third time today. She’s pretty, and for a split second, I wonder if Lycan’s dated her, or if he’s been intimate with her. A spike of jealousy crashes through me before I pull myself together and offer her a smile.
“So, how long have you known Mr. Shaw?” I query as I take the slip she’s holding out to me. Her gaze lands on mine, but there’s no guilt or jealousy in her pretty eyes.
“A few months. He was at one of my fashion shows,” she remembers with a smile. “He even offered to donate toward my charity. I have to say, you’re very lucky.”
My mouth opens, but no words come out. I’m not sure if I am lucky or if my luck had run out, and I was left with a man who bought me. “What charity is it?” I ask instead of talking more about my future husband.
Her gaze drops to the floor, and I can tell she’s nervous from the way her hands twist in front of her. “I…Uhm… I’ve always wanted to support women, to show them they’re strong, not because they’re a wife or mother, but because they’re warriors. So, I started up a charity to help women coming from abused homes.” This time when she looks up at me, my heart stutters.
“That’s amazing.” It’s the truth. I’ve heard about women living in fear daily. Women who aren’t strong enough to fight back but also feel stuck. “You know,” I start, turning to face her fully. “I’d love to interview you. I’m a media relations student, and I’ll be interning in New York next month. It would be an incredible story to take to the company.”
Opal’s eyes widen. Her smile is bright, lighting up her face with excitement. “That is something I would definitely love to do.” She grins, and we move back to the mirror, where I look at what I’m wearing.
The material of the sleek, floor-length, satin dress hugs my curves. For some reason, looking at myself in the mirror makes this all too real. As the girls flurry around me like excited hummingbirds, ready to flit into the clear, blue sky, I turn my gaze away from my reflection and out to the garden. I don’t want to admit that this feels like some strange and twisted fairy tale.
Every girl dreams of her wedding day. I, for one, never thought I’d marry someone of my own choice. And it’s as if those thoughts brought Lycan to me. Because I didn’t choose him, and yet here I am, donning a princess dress which looks like it’s straight from the pages of a book.
My prince isn’t a knight in shining armor but a commanding wolf in an expensive, tailored suit. Once everyone steps back, I realize I was lost in thought, and when I glance at Opal, she’s grinning as if she’s just won the lottery.
“This is it,” she coos as she claps her hands together excitedly. I want to turn, but in the same vein, I want to run and hide. I want them to remove the mirror, so I don’t look at just how perfectly this dress fits.
“Are you sure?” I ask, still nervous, keeping my eyes from landing on the glass to my left. She grins wider, nodding quickly as she takes the veil and gestures toward me. I offer her a small smile and tip my head so she can place the bejeweled crown with sheer lace over my hair. It hangs low behind me; the weight of it is astounding.
“Yes. A picture of perfection.” She offers me a chef’s kiss before stepping back and allowing me space. As much as I don’t want to be excited to see the result, I do turn and face the mirror finally. My breath is stolen for a long moment as I look at the woman staring back at me.
Atop the satin shift is a gown made purely of lace. Now I see why I had to put the silky material on first. If I didn’t, this would be see-through. The lace covers my chest to my neck. It cinches at my waist before exploding into a wide circle all the way to the shiny marble tiles.
I twist and turn, taking in every angle. The back is completely bare, with thin lace twisting from my shoulders down to the base of my spine, creating a delicate V-shape. The veil hanging down my back looks like it’s been made from the most fragile snowflakes with a delicate pattern of unique shapes.
The crown on my head sparkles in the light coming in from the floor-to-ceiling doors to my right. Doors that could lead to my freedom if I ran right now. But I wouldn’t get far because I know my captor will not let me go.