Deceived by the Veil
- Leituras 48
- Votos 4
- Capítulos 7
MaduroEm andamento34m
Última atualização ter, fev 17, 2026
Althea stood at the doorway of the bridal suite, her heart heavy with a weight she couldn't shake. The dress lay on the bed, pristine and untouched, a cruel reminder of everything she had lost. It wasn't supposed to be her walking down the aisle, pledging herself to a man she barely knew. But here she was, forced to step into her sister's place.
Her sister's choice to leave had devastated her. She had rejected a life that demanded sacrifice and duty, choosing freedom over family. And Althea, for all her anger and confusion, was left with no choice but to save the family's reputation. She had to wear the dress, say the vows, and marry a man she didn't love.
Her fingers trembled as she adjusted the veil, staring at her reflection. She looked perfect-beautiful, poised-but she didn't feel that way. She felt like a shadow, a replacement for the woman who should've been here. The weight of the gown suffocated her as she prepared to step into a life that wasn't hers to claim.
She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to marry him. But with every step she took toward the chapel, the reality set in. There was no turning back.
And there, at the altar, stood Elijah.
His eyes locked on hers as she approached, his gaze intense, unreadable. A faint smile curved his lips, one she couldn't quite decipher, but there was something in it that made her blood run cold. Satisfaction. He looked at her as if she were an object, something to be claimed.
With each step, his smile deepened, pleased with what was walking toward him. He wasn't looking at her as a woman to be loved. He was looking at her as a prize, something that had finally fallen into his grasp.
Althea's throat tightened. She couldn't turn back now, not with everyone watching. As she reached the altar, she realized the vows she was about to speak weren't hers to make. They had been written for her sister, and now she would speak them, to a man who had claimed her sister's life and was now claiming hers by default.
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Loving him was the cruelest kind of torment-a love that lived in the shadows, one that could never bask in the warmth of the sun. I was nothing more than a stolen moment, a whispered name in the dark, a secret he tucked away between the life he had built and the one he wished he could have. I knew, deep down, that I was a fracture in his story, a fleeting escape from the weight of his reality. And yet, I still clung to him, to the illusion that for a few precious hours, he was mine. But the truth was relentless-it came in the form of unanswered texts, in the way he dressed hurriedly after loving me, in the way he said her name with the same tenderness he once gave me. I had given him my heart, knowing he would never be able to keep it, and yet, I loved him still. Loved him as I watched him walk away, loved him as he returned to the arms of the woman he truly belonged to, loved him as I drowned in the loneliness he left behind. Because no matter how much I wished it to be different, I was not his home-I was just a place he visited before going back to where his heart truly lived.
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