The sun is warm on my bare shoulders and the air smells faintly of freshly mown grass and lavender. Behind me, I can hear the sounds of the wedding, conversation, laughter, the tinkling of music. Henry footed the entire bill, with a few contributions from me. As a librarian at an inner-city high school, my salary would never have colored this extravagant affair. But it’s what Henry wanted. And, I’ll admit, it does feel like a fairytale. But I’m not sure if Henry is my prince.
Suddenly, the breeze picks up considerably, sending a chill through me. I wrap my arms around myself, bouquet in hand. The leaves in the nearby oak trees rustle loudly. It sounds like whispering.
I sigh and turn away from the mansion, facing instead towards the city. I can’t see New York from here, but I can imagine it. The gentle park and woods here are so different from the hustle and bustle of the city. A cloud passes over the sun, casting a long shadow over me.
A dark shadow.
I toss the bouquet between my hands. Maybe the sudden change in the weather is a bad omen, a sign that I shouldn’t go through with this. I’ll feel terrible if I bail on Henry. My family will still be in trouble if I do, and he’ll probably resent me for the rest of our lives. I don’t want to think about what a man with his kind of money could do if I made him angry.
Tara will be here soon to escort me to the ceremony. I never thought getting married would be so difficult for me. The shadow over me stretches forward and swirls. Odd for a cloud. I look up and see blue sky above me, and then black closing in on me.
Fear grips my gut as a giant, black creature descends from the sky. Its wings stretch out impossibly long, as wide as the hill. And it reaches out a clawed bird’s foot towards me. A scream lodges in my throat as I look into its eyes.
Hazel eyes set into a panther’s face.
I’m hallucinating. The stress and pressure of the wedding has finally gotten to me and my brain is responding by creating a hallucination of a monster. That has to be it.
Because monsters aren’t real.
Something like this can’t be real.
I stumble backwards, tripping over the tulle of my gown. One of my sparkling heels falls off, but I don’t reach for it because the monster is close. In seconds, that clawed foot is wrapped around me, squeezing me tightly. Finally, the scream frees itself from my throat and shatters through the silence. I drop my bouquet as the ground falls away. When I’m high over the tree line, supported only by the beast’s foot, I let my fear overtake me.
Darkness claims me.
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About the Author
Bailey Dark is obsessed with all things dark, hot, and supernatural. From Fae to Aliens, her heroes are thoroughly alpha and pure raw masculinity. When she’s not writing (which is hardly ever) she’s busy watching every movie in the marvel universe, or binging supernatural on her couch. So come along, and enter her dark world. . . .
https://www.baileydarkromance.com/
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