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T he offending clang of bells shattered the silence, wrenching Vivienne from oblivion. Blinking against the blinding light, Vivienne found herself sitting on the worn stone steps of the Cathedral of Althera in Vantner. The imposing structure lay behind her, its alabaster spires piercing the sky, its stained-glass windows glinting in the sun.

Her inhale abandoned her lungs as she glanced down at herself. A gown of delicate white lace draped over her frame, cinched at the waist and wrists with traditional blue ribbons. Her hair had been woven into an intricate coronet, strands interlaced with matching blue silk. She reached up and her fingers met the soft wreath of flowers crowning her head. Vivienne squinted as the sun reflected off a large diamond ring. I’m dressed for a wedding. Dressed for my own wedding.

"Are you ready, dear?"

Vivienne turned toward the comforting, honeyed voice. Relief flooded her chest at the sight of Johanna standing behind her, clad in a regal sapphire-blue gown. Beside her, Briar twirled in an emerald dress, nearly spilling the contents of her wicker basket.

“Yeah, slowpoke,” Briar teased, her dark curls bouncing. “I’ve got petals to throw, you know!”

Vivienne sprang forward, pulling her into a crushing embrace. “Briar!” she breathed, clutching the girl against her, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender and sun-warmed earth.

“You’re going to mess up my hair!” Briar squirmed in her arms. “Why are you being so weird?”

“I just haven’t seen you in so long.” Vivienne loosened her grip, allowing her cousin to step back.

Briar wrinkled her nose. “What are you talking about? We see each other every day.”

Johanna chortled, pressing a bouquet into Vivienne’s hands. The arrangement was breathtaking—a swirl of deep blue, ivory, and golden blooms. “Lews outdid himself with these,” she remarked, brushing a stray leaf from her bodice.

Lewis. Vivienne’s pulse quickened. “Where is he?” she asked, scanning the courtyard.

A silky voice slinked into the conversation. “He’s already inside, of course.”

Vivienne stiffened. Bianca Kopfkino. The woman stood poised in an ivory gown—wearing white to a wedding that wasn’t hers. Of course she would.

Briar scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Ignore her. Let's go!"

The cathedral doors groaned open, revealing a grand hall filled with hundreds of guests. The crowd rose in unison, faces bright with anticipation. The aisle stretched impossibly long, leading to an altar bathed in golden light.

Her steps faltered. Who am I walking toward?

She turned to retreat, only to find the doors had vanished. Cold panic gripped her chest. I can’t leave. I have to walk forward.

Her feet moved on their own, the bouquet gave her something to cling to as she drifted down the aisle. The crowd murmured, admiring her gown, her hair, and her flowers. There were some familiar faces, but mostly strangers. She searched desperately for her parents, her heartbeat hammering against her ribs. Where are they?

A sudden flash of light illuminated a pew near the front. There.

Liana and William Banner stood rigid, their expressions blank.

Her mother’s eyes floated down her dress. “You didn’t wear mine?” she criticized, lips curling in disapproval. “Oh well, you wouldn’t have fit into it anyway.”

Vivienne flinched as if her mother had struck her.

Her father’s booming voice rang through the air. “Make the right choice, Vivienne. You have to set an example for the Banner family.”

“You can make one right choice, can’t you, my hummingbird?” Liana added, her voice lilting with saccharine condescension.

Vivienne’s hands clenched around the bouquet. “For once, just tell me what you want me to do. Tell me!”

"You should already have the answer," William declared.

Her parents shook their heads in unison, a slow, haunting gesture before evaporating into thin air.

“Well, Miss Banner, who will it be?” a priest’s squeaky voice asked.

Vivienne’s head whipped back to the altar, and her stomach dropped. The fog lifted, revealing not one man waiting, but three.

Lewis. Cirrus. Owen.

Dressed in elegant groom’s attire, they stood side by side, watching her with expectant eyes. What in the everdark…?

The cathedral trembled as rain lashed against the stained glass, lightning streaking across the vaulted ceiling.

Lewis stepped forward first, his face pleading. “Viv, I’m your best friend. No one knows you better than I do. We’ve spent our lives together already, why not the rest?”

Memories flickered—childhood adventures, shared laughter, stolen glances she had dismissed. Does he mean as my best friend? Or as something more?

Cirrus’ voice cut through the storm. “You already agreed to marry me once,” he murmured, stepping closer. His ice-blue eyes bore into hers, filled with an emotion that made her chest ache. “You almost stood here with me three years ago. Banns, we belong together. Why fight fate any longer?”

She bit her lip. She was relieved Cirrus hadn’t died in the canyon collapse or any of the other times the island tried to kill them. But, she wasn’t ready to leap back into something. Not yet. Not now.

Then she turned to the commander. “Owen… why are you here?”

“You tell me…” A smirk curved his lips, his dark gaze roaming over her. “...Vivienne,” he said her name like a promise.

Heat pooled low in her stomach at the memory of that night in the stream—his bronze skin dripping, muscles carved by years of conditioning, the way he looked at her. Stop it, Vivienne! That’s not a good reason. Not enough of a reason to marry someone.

The priest cleared his throat, voice shrill. “Miss Banner, we need an answer.”

She glanced between them, the weight of their anticipation trampling her. Lewis. Cirrus. Owen. Each choice carried consequences. What if I pick wrong? Do I need to choose right now?

“I… well, I…” Her voice shook. “I can’t!”

Before the priest could protest, she ran. Vivienne tore down the aisle, past the startled guests, past the faceless crowd, and away from the men at the altar. She sprinted toward the vanished doors, desperate for escape.

A violent clap of thunder rocked the cathedral. The world lurched sideways—then vanished.