The woman staring back at me in the mirror hardly looked like herself. The beautiful red gown, clinging to me like liquid fire, each thread shimmering under the dim glow of the chandelier. My hair was braided to the side and woven with red roses. These fragile, blood-red blooms that matched the color of my lips and the heat I tried to hide beneath my calm.
It reminded me of the time Ravić surprised me with an observatory filled with red roses. When he got down on one knee and proposed. Before it all went to hell when we found the evil priest, waiting for us by the foot of the stairs.
I exhaled slowly, pushing the memory away as I smoothed my hands down the red silk as if it could uncoil the nerves, swirling deep in my gut.
Somewhere behind me, Lucien stirred in his crib, murmuring softly in his sleep. I turned, leaning down to press a kiss to his warm little forehead. He's my peace in all this madness.
