AWARENESS RETURNED SLOWLY, like surfacing from deep water.
Warmth. Light. The scent of roses.
Grayson blinked, his vision clearing to reveal... the wedding venue?
He stood at the altar beneath the archway drowning in white roses, exactly where he was supposed to be.
Golden Tuscan sunlight filtered through the courtyard, casting everything in that perfect late-morning glow. Guests filled the curved rows of chairs—familiar faces, supernatural beings he'd known for decades, even centuries.
Everything looked exactly as it should.
Had he... imagined the rest? The van, the chemical fog, the woman's laugh?
A nightmare, he thought with profound relief. Just a nightmare. Wedding anxiety manifesting as an abduction scenario. That's embarrassingly predictable for someone who spent three centuries avoiding commitment.
