ALLE
Every step down this f*****g aisle feels wrong.
The crowd parts like I'm royalty or some s**t. Their faces blur, some look at me like I've won the lottery, others like I'm headed to the electric chair.
Both seem accurate.
The great hall is annoyingly beautiful. Someone spent hours on this—candles everywhere casting gold light across marble, winter flowers twisted into archways even though it's the wrong damn season, traditional pack markings painted on the walls in deep red.
Looks like a wedding.
Feels like a trap.
Winter stands at the front on some raised platform, and Christ, even from here his presence slams into me.
How a man so monstrous and dark managed to look as though he was carved by the goddess personally went beyond me.
He's in all black, a fitted shirt that doe
