Chapter 169: Impossibly soon

Taking a tentative step forward, my shoes met a smooth, solid ground instead of dirt—a tiled pathway or a stone walkway, hard to tell with my eyes covered. With every step, Magnus guided my movement, instilling a deep sense of security; no matter how far I walked blind, he would never let me stumble.

With every stride, the air around us shifted. At first, it smelled of warm, sun-baked stone, followed by the crisp, clean scent of crushed greenery. A few paces later, a fragrance of flowers hit me so powerfully that I instinctively took a deep breath.

It was sweet without being cloying, laced with a cool note of fresh dew—an intoxicating blend that went straight to my head.

"Stop. Open your eyes."

His hands slipped away, and the bright light stung my eyelashes. I blinked rapidly, waiting for my vision to focus, and when the picture finally resolved, I froze.

A colossal Gothic cathedral loomed before me. Dark stone walls, razor-sharp spires reaching toward the sky, and intricate stained-glass windows catching the sunlight. It was so imposing, so magnificent, that my chest tightened under the weight of its sheer grandeur.

Yet it wasn’t the architecture that took my breath away.

Everything surrounding the cathedral was smothered in flowers. White roses—endless rows of bushes neatly planted along the stone paths, framing the base of the dark walls, and lining the ornate iron fence. They formed a sea of white, softly embracing the dark monolith of stone.

The contrast was breathtaking, sending a sudden, sharp ache through my heart as my breath caught in my throat.

The scent of roses washed over me in a dense wave, carrying a blend of sweetness, crisp freshness, and something strangely comforting—yet sharp as memories too vivid to look at directly.

"This is..." My voice betrayed me, trembling as I turned to look at Magnus.

"This is where we’ll be married," he said calmly, yet with absolute certainty. Every word settled in my chest like a heavy, searing stone, reshaping my entire reality.

My breath caught, stumbling in my throat. His words hung in the air between us, their sheer weight making my chest feel impossibly tight and burning hot. I couldn’t even answer right away, overwhelmed not just by what he had said, but by the setting in which he had said it.

I simply squeezed his hand, clinging to his fingers as if to anchor myself against the tide of emotion, and breathed out softly, "Can we look inside?"

"Of course, my soul."

Inside, the cathedral felt even more otherworldly. Towering vaulted ceilings vanished into the shadows above, flanked by massive stone pillars, while the cool air carried the faint scent of beeswax and ancient stone.

Our footsteps echoed softly through the grand hall, returning as a muted whisper. Sculptures lined the walls—saints, angels, and figures whose names I didn’t know, yet whose carved eyes felt uncomfortably alive.

Tall candles set in dark wrought-iron stands burned with steady, unflickering flames, casting a golden glow across icons, gilded details, and precious stones embedded in the intricate stonework.

My eyes were drawn irresistibly toward the massive altar. I found myself wanting to trace every line and scrollwork of its carvings, if only to prove to myself that all of this was real and wouldn’t vanish like a dream.

My head spun slightly—not just from the sheer scale and the rich scents, but from the staggering realization that this was becoming part of our story.

We walked through the hall together as he pointed out where we would walk and where the guests would be seated. In passing, he mentioned that the wedding would draw a massive crowd: allied wolf packs, rival unities, high-ranking government officials—everyone who needed to see us united.

He spoke about my gown, reminding me that we needed to stop by for a fitting today since preparations were already in full swing. His voice remained smooth, confident, making it unmistakably clear that every detail had already been decided.

The priest who eventually approached us was ancient. His pristine white vestments, richly embroidered with jewels and gold thread, shimmered softly in the candlelight. A long train trailed behind him across the floor, yet remained spotless, without a speck of dust—as though no dirty boots had ever trodden these stones.

They discussed the date, and I mostly listened in silence, as the solemn talk of blessings and sacred rituals drifted somewhere along the fringe of my reality.

In the end, it was settled: the wedding would take place in three days. It felt impossibly soon, yet I had no doubt that if Magnus had set the timeline, everything would be executed flawlessly.

While he remained behind, conversing with the priest, I slipped outside. I needed a moment to breathe. The moment I stepped over the threshold, fresh air laced with the heavy fragrance of roses brushed against my face.

I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs until my chest ached, and began to walk slowly along the side of the cathedral. I wanted to trace its perimeter, to admire once more the stark contrast between dark stone and white blossoms.

The sun-warmed stone path was smooth beneath my feet. I trailed my fingertips over the nearest bushes, feeling the velvety texture of the petals, lost in the thought that this felt like someone else’s dream into which I had accidentally drifted.

A short distance away, near the wrought-iron gates, I spotted two people. A man and a woman were sitting directly on the ground, their backs resting against the stone wall. Between them sat a scuffed cardboard sign, bearing a scrawled plea for spare change.

Magnus’s words about the shelters and support systems he had established in the city immediately flashed through my mind. The sight left a sharp, unpleasant ache beneath my ribs—the reality in front of me didn’t match his promises. If those resources truly existed, why were these two sitting here under the scorching sun outside the cathedral, instead of inside a warm room with a roof over their heads?

I slowed my pace but kept moving closer, trying to muster my courage, even as a dark knot of apprehension coiled in my stomach. The moment they lifted their eyes to meet mine, the world abruptly narrowed into a tight, agonizing tunnel.

I froze in place, as though my feet had rooted into the stone.

Something fractured in my chest. Breath lodged in my throat, and my heart hammered against my ribs so violently that the pulse echoed in my temples.

"Jane..." she gasped, her voice thick with shock.

My sister and brother stared straight at me, looking as if they had just seen a ghost.