The reflection moved first.
Emery's breath hitched as the image of herself inside the mirror smirked, lifting a hand as if reaching for her. But the movements weren’t hers. The woman in the reflection... her, yet not her... tilted her head in quiet amusement. The golden glow of the mirror intensified, illuminating the fractures beginning to spread across the glass, fine as spiderwebs.
Emery stepped forward, an almost uncontrollable pull dragging her in. She lifted a hesitant hand, fingertips hovering inches from the surface. It felt alive. Pulsing beneath her skin like a heartbeat.
Her fingers touched the glass.
Pain exploded through her skull.
A memory... not a memory. A force shoving itself back into her mind.
She staggered, gasping, clutching at her head as images slammed into her one after another.
A veil of gold and candlelight.
Two men standing at the altar. One in the light. One in the shadows.
Her own voice, trembling with hesitation. "I choose..."
The sound of screams.
The Ma
