Page 177 of Claiming Pretty

Afew weeks later, out on our country estate, with the smell of the salt and pines in the air, the officiant pronounced us husband and wife just as the sky was turning golden.

“I love you more,” Ty whispered as he leaned down and kissed me.

His lips moving against mine, soft but firm, our first kiss as husband and wife, it felt like the entire world stilled for that moment.

My heart raced, my breath hitched, and for a moment, it felt as though the sheer magnitude of my love might consume me entirely, leaving nothing but the unrelenting ache of feeling something so vast, so infinite.

When we finally pulled apart, his expression was a beautiful storm of emotion. Pride, love, disbelief—it was all there, etched into the lines of his handsome face.

And his blue eyes—those eyes I’d fallen in love with before I even realized they werehis—were glistening.

Something had changed in Ty the moment I chose him,something I never expected. The mask he so often wore, that cold, calculating exterior that had kept him alive all these years, began to crumble.

Slowly, the Ty beneath—the one who loved deeply, fiercely, possessively, who built me a home with my every youthful wish, who cherished me with every fiber of his being—was emerging.

Lisa sniffled audibly behind me, breaking the moment.

I turned to see her dabbing at her eyes with the hem of her peach bridesmaid dress.

“Don’t start, bish,” I whispered with a laugh, but my own voice wavered.

Lisa’s tears turned into a sob, and she lightly punched my shoulder. “You heartless bish!”

We both burst into tears—happy, uncontrollable tears.

Only one shadow marred the perfection of the day as I glanced over Ty’s shoulder to where no one stood.

The ache in my heart was sudden and sharp, but before it could overwhelm me, a whisper of leather and spice brushed past on the breeze.

I looked toward the edge of the pines and thought, for just a moment, I saw a figure—tall and shadowy—standing among the trees.

That night, I woke with a start, my skin prickling as though I were being watched.

My heart skipped a beat, the stillness of our bedroom in the house Ty built for me pressing down on me like a heavy blanket.

Ty wasn’t beside me. The empty space in the bed, the faint warmth still lingering where he had been, made the feeling worse.

“Mhaor?” I called softly, my voice cutting through the silence as I slipped out of bed.

The cool air kissed my skin, raising goosebumps against the thin slip I wore. The shadows of the room felt too heavy, too alive, and as I turned, my breath caught.

Red writing streaked across the mirror. The words were sharp, deliberate.

“Ready or not…”

My stomach twisted, a mix of dread and anticipation curling low in my belly.

Before I could process, a crash shattered the silence.

I jumped, my heart slamming into my ribs as my head whipped toward the sound.

It came from downstairs.

I rushed out of the bedroom, feet padding quickly over the cold wooden floor.

I gripped the banister tightly as I crept down the stairs, my fingers brushing against the worn wood as I strained to hear anything—any sound, any movement.

But the house was silent. Too silent.

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