Anaiah spent the next two days trapped in her room, her mind racing so fast she felt sick.

Her father had placed two heavy pack guards right outside her door. She was allowed out only for forced fittings of a dress that felt more like armor than a gown. Amelia had stomped past her room at least a dozen times, muttering threats under her breath about how Anaiah would pay for stealing the spot as the most talked-about bride in the territory.

*Let her have it,* Anaiah thought, staring out her window into the dark forest. *If she wants Callox so badly, she can take him.*

But deep down, Anaiah...