"Hold on!"
Everyone turned around in confusion, searching for the source of the voice.
Far behind them, a woman in a wedding dress identical to the one on stage stood, with Ethan Lockwood trailing behind her. She gathered her skirt slightly, approaching them step by step.
Alaric Davenport saw the distant figure and froze. He glanced back, shooting a glare at the woman before him. She trembled under his icy gaze.
He understood at once.
She stopped behind the crowd. A few stray strands of her styled hair had come loose from her run, dangling artfully against her exquisite makeup and creating a beautifully disheveled look.
Outdoors, a gentle sea breeze caressed her hair, hem, and veil. The white gown set off her porcelain skin, while her tiara and jewelry glittered in the sun. She looked like an angel who had accidentally fallen to earth—noble, pure, and ethereal...
"What's going on?" someone in the crowd asked.
Even the pastor on the stage was dumbfounded.
