Days later

Cecilia tried not to move too much as her best friend Isadora braided some pearls into her long dark brown locks. Her face had been washed and applied with powder for her face, careful lip paint, and a light brown shade of eye paint. The top half of her hair had been pulled up into a tight braid, the rest falling in gentle waves past her shoulders.

Her wedding was just in two weeks, and each moment Cecilia had spent with Mason had been one of pure bliss. They went on strolls together, had picnics, and once even stayed up watching the stars glitter the sky.

Never had she felt such peace and love from being with someone, especially like this.

The memory of Cecilia holding on to Mason's hands as they strolled into the duke of the west's castle was still fresh in her mind. She clung to it to settle the nerves that had gathered in her stomach. Now and then, though, she had to press her palms together to control the anxiety shakes she was still having to deal with.

Her friend Isadora hummed a little song, as if she was aware of the mood Cecilia was in. As she tightened the corset on Cecilia, she took a step back, admiring her work.

"How do I look?" she had asked Isadora, not yet brave enough to see for herself in the mirror.

"I think Mason is going to consider himself one lucky dog when he sees you, Cece." she said, laughing at her joke. Cecilia blushed, taking her word for it as she stood up from the chair and took a deep breath.

Besides Mason's pack being here, the rival pack was here. There was a forced truce as the duke of the west was on neither side; if any discourse or fights were to break out here, the cuffs of silver were to be placed on the offender and taken away.

Though Cece was excited, she felt a sense of dread that wasn't there before; she trusted that everyone would be on their best behavior, but even Mason admitted that the head alpha Quill of the rival pack was short tempered. Not a word could be said to him without a fight breaking out.

Cece was determined to stand by Mason's side the entire dance. She was a human and daughter of the duke's, so if any harm came on to her, there would be dire consequences that no one would want on them.

Standing up straight, she kissed Isadora's cheek and headed out of the room where her betrothed was waiting for.

In the halls, Cece wandered, taking her time. She had not seen lick or tail of her Mason. Now and then, though, she thought she caught the flash of silver or black. It was too fast for her to notice, so she tried to pay no mind.

As she walked, she heard voices up ahead, and she turned, stopping in her tracks. Quill stood there, wearing a suit, and pressed jacket. His usual wild mane of black hair was smoothed back and tucked behind his ear. He had golden brown skin, with just the faintest of scars, bright green eyes light-hearted, and full of humor.

For a moment, Cece wondered if this was the same person her betrothed had warned her about.

As she was mulling it over, he looked over, the joy disappearing, as a guarded expression came over him.

Oh, there it is, she winced, taking a quick curtesy, as she bounded off to where the music was playing.

Isadora had chosen a bluish purple gown for Cece to wear, tight in the bodice, but loose everywhere else. Cece had a slim yet curvy figure, and the gown showed it off.

Cece had been wary when Isadora had put on the corset over the gown, but she had loved the results. She looked and felt like a true princess.

Guests milled about the court, talking to one another. Cece noticed her father talking to one of Mason's pack members. She watched carefully to see if he was irate or annoyed.

Seeing nothing but a bit of a drunken stupor in her father's eyes, Cece continued to look around for her Mason.

He'd promised to find her the minute he got dressed, but now as Cece searched, he wasn't there. Maybe she had gotten ready before him, which seemed unlikely, as Isadora had taken her time to find the perfect dress and look set up.

Feeling a bit dissuaded, Cece headed over to the food table, grabbed a plate and let the servants serve her whatever it was at the table. She didn't focus on the food too much, still glancing around the ballroom.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed at her elbow, and she turned around, a startled laugh escaping her. When she focused, she saw that it was her other friend Delilah, a frantic look in her eyes.

"You must come with me, Cece. You need to know the truth." she said, tugging her away from the table.

Cece, a bit frightened, followed, placing her plate back on the table, steps quick and unsure.

They went back down the corridors, into the deepest part of the castle, passing many guests, some who were drunk, and others who were adjusting their clothes, giving out sheepish grins.

Delilah ended up leading Cece to the inner courtyard, where the sky was already turning into a night sky, stars blinking into existence. Cece wished she could pay a bit more attention to them instead of wherever Delilah was taking her.

A row of bushes came into view, and Delilah pressed her finger against her lips as she carefully separated the bushes, just enough space for Cece to walk forward to.

At first, Cece saw nothing, but then her eyes adjusted, and she was able to see just on the other side of the courtyard. There was Mason, wearing an untuck shirt, with patchy pants, his hair damp as if he had just washed it. Cece leaned forward, squinting to see Mason place his hands on a woman's belly, kissing her lips.

What-

The thought hadn't finished before Cece realized who Mason was kissing. Her best friend Isadora, who was not only kissing Mason as if it was a normal thing to do, but the way that Mason was touching Isadora's stomach made it seem like she was with child.

His child.

Cece didn't think at that point; she ran through the bushes, ignoring the scratches on her arms she got from the thorns, a scream tearing from her lips. Mason turned around, yanking Isadora from harm's way, as Cece pummeled him with her fists. She felt like hot metal was melting in her mouth, and she kept swinging, Mason dodging her punches.

At one point, her fists connected with Isadora's face, a cry escaping from her. Mason placed her down as he went to hold Cece down.

"My friend! My very best friend and my betrothed! You bastard, you son of a bitch, have you ANY idea what you've done?" she screamed at him, as he pulled her away from Isadora, and walking off with her in his hold.

Cece continued to kick and punch Mason, her knee connecting with his chest, taking the air out from him as he felt himself go down, dropping Cece abruptly in the stone patch.

Startled, she held out her hands to catch herself when she felt herself land hard on the side of her neck, a crunch sounding out. There was pain, and then there wasn't, and she felt someone turn her over gently.

She knew who it was, and then she didn't, taking the person's hand. She got up from the ground, dusting herself off, and the person smiled.

"Guess I'm the special guest to your funeral." Death said.