They sent me to the northern castle with a wedding dress, a prayer book, and a coffin-sized trunk for my body.
Everyone knew what happened to brides who married Duke Ashborne.
They disappeared before morning.
At midnight, my husband stood outside my bedroom door in black ceremonial armor, his claws digging into the woodframe.
"Lock the door," he said.
His voice was rough with pain, not cruelty.
"From me."
Something slammed against the hallway behind him, though he was the only person there.
He looked at me with burning gold eyes. "If I ask you to let me in, do not believe me."