The next night would be Whitney and Vito’s wedding.
For so reason, I couldn’t settle down.
A strange unease sat heavily in my chest, like sothing bad was waiting sowhere just out of sight. The feeling kept growing as the night deepened and the house slowly quieted. No matter how many tis I told myself everything would be fine, that heavy feeling refused to leave.
It reminded too much of the night before my own wedding, when I had tossed and turned in bed and couldn’t sleep no matter how exhausted I was.
That mory alone made my skin go cold.
Carter noticed my restlessness almost imdiately. He shifted beside and sat up, leaning slightly against the headboard as he looked down at with quiet concern.
"What’s wrong, Elena?"
I stared at the ceiling for a long mont before answering. The soft light from the bedside lamp cast faint shadows across the room.
"I want to check on the Morrigans."
He didn’t respond right away.
Instead, he looked at carefully for a few quiet seconds, studying my expression like he was trying to read the thoughts I hadn’t spoken aloud.
"Elena."
"I’m just... nervous," I admitted softly after a pause. "Sothing went wrong on my wedding day. I’m scared sothing bad might happen to Whitney too."
Carter’s expression softened almost imdiately.
"Vito isn’t Luke," he said gently. "He loves Whitney. He wants this bonding ceremony to be perfect. He had her wedding dress prepared two years ago. He went through more than twenty designs just to make sure it was right."
His voice remained calm and steady, like a quiet anchor in the middle of my racing thoughts.
"The dress has nine hundred and ninety-nine diamonds," he continued. "Every single one was set by his own hands. He spent months working on it."
I blinked in surprise.
Carter gave a faint smile.
"He’s even put his hatred for the Morrigans aside just to keep them safe for her. That alone tells you how much she ans to him. He won’t let anyone ruin this wedding."
Then he reached out and gently touched my face, brushing his thumb lightly across my cheek.
"Don’t worry," he said softly. "I’ll protect you."
I let out a small breath.
"Hmm."
"If you still want to go check on them," he added quietly, "I’ll co with you."
The truth was, I didn’t really want to see the Morrigans.
I just couldn’t sleep.
Every ti I tried to close my eyes, my heartbeat sped up, restless and sharp, like my instincts were warning that sothing wasn’t right. The feeling made my chest tight and my mind uneasy.
So eventually I gave up trying to sleep.
I got out of bed and slipped my shoes on, and Carter followed without hesitation as we walked quietly into the dark hallway.
At night, the Blackwell Residence felt strangely empty.
The usual movent of servants was gone. No footsteps echoed through the halls, no distant voices drifted through the rooms. The entire house felt still, almost too still, and the air seed colder than before.
The staircase leading down to the basent was dark, the shadows thick enough to make my skin prickle.
I was about to reach for the light switch when suddenly soone ca rushing up from below.
A tall figure dressed entirely in black appeared so suddenly it felt like a ghost had stepped straight out of the darkness.
"Ah!"
I stumbled backward in shock.
My heel caught on the step behind , and for one terrifying second I thought I was going to fall down the stairs. My body tilted back—
Then two strong hands caught instantly and pulled back.
Carter’s arms wrapped firmly around , pressing against his chest.
My breathing finally returned.
The dark figure moved closer, and when the faint light hit his face, I recognized him at once.
Amber’s bodyguard.
The dangerous one Yael had warned about.
He stood one step below , dressed head to toe in black, his expression completely unreadable. Even without speaking, the man carried a quiet but overwhelming sense of danger.
It was the kind of presence that made your body react before your mind could.
My legs still felt weak, and without realizing it I leaned more heavily against Carter.
The man didn’t say a single word.
He simply walked past us and continued up the stairs, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.
I stayed frozen there for a mont, still trying to calm my racing heart.
Carter chuckled softly and patted my head.
"Don’t be scared."
I looked up at him, still a little shaken.
He said calmly, "When Damian first started working with , he dressed like that too. They’re from Shadow, the strongest rcenary group around. Only S-class criminals and top special forces retirees can join."
He paused briefly before adding,
"They all keep their identities hidden."
I blinked slowly.
That explained a lot.
I nodded and then asked quietly, "Is Aunt Amber back this late?"
"She probably has feelings about her son’s wedding," Carter replied.
That answer made sense.
When we finally reached the basent, the Morrigans were all asleep.
Whitney’s influence had clearly changed their treatnt. Instead of being left on the cold floor like before, they had been moved onto a large bunk bed.
For once, they looked almost peaceful.
I stood there quietly for several seconds, watching them breathe slowly in the dim light.
Despite everything, I didn’t want to wake them.
So I turned and said softly, "Let’s go to the garden."
"Okay."
Carter never argued when it ca to things like this. If I asked, he simply followed.
Outside, the garden was bathed in soft moonlight.
The flowers released their fragrance into the cool night air, and the faint sound of insects filled the quiet darkness. The atmosphere there felt calr, softer, far away from the tension inside the house.
I lifted my eyes toward the sky.
"The stars are so bright tonight."
Carter followed my gaze upward.
"The stars in that small town are even prettier," he said. "In two months, we should go live there for a while."
I smiled at the thought.
"That sounds nice."
Then I rested my head gently against his shoulder and said quietly,
"Let’s build a house near the cherry blossom tree. I really like that tree."
"Sure," he answered without hesitation.
We stayed there for a while, talking softly about small things—about houses, trees, and quiet mornings. Sohow those little dreams felt more important than anything else in that mont.
Maybe that was what peace looked like.
Small dreams spoken quietly in the middle of darkness.
Then I turned my head slightly and noticed sothing.
A light was glowing behind one of the third-floor windows.
Two figures moved faintly behind the curtain.
The sight made pause.
From a distance it looked mysterious, almost romantic in its own quiet way.
Eventually we returned inside.
The next morning, I woke up at five.
I got ready quickly and headed upstairs. My thoughts were already racing ahead—to Whitney, to the wedding, to everything that still felt fragile and uncertain.
Just then, Riley suddenly nudged from the side and said with a playful grin,
"By the way, don’t forget to ask to be your bridesmaid when it’s your turn."
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