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The knot in my gut pulls so tight it hurts. I remember the promise. Zarek's one rule. If she chooses to leave, we let her go.

I agreed to it. I meant it.

But I didn't know. I didn't know what it would feel like to have her and lose her. I didn't know how it would feel to stand here and watch it happen.

I don't know how I'll survive it.

And then Elara moves. She steps out from behind me and walks right past. Down the porch steps. Across the garden path, straight toward Silas.

I reach for her, and my hand closes on air. She's already past me, already out of reach.

Every instinct I have screams at me to go after her. To grab her. To throw her over my shoulder and carry her back inside and bar the door and never let anyone near her again.

I don't move.

My fists are clenched so hard my claws are cutting into my palms. I can feel the blood, but I don't care.

I don't move. Because she's choosing. And it's hers to choose.

Beside me, Zarek has gone still as a stone. Rhydian's hand is gripping the porch rail so hard the wood is splintering under his fingers.

None of us makes a sound. We just watch the woman we love walk toward the man who wants to take her away.

Silas smiles. It's a victor's smile. Triumphant. He reaches out for her, like he's already won. Like he knew all along she'd come crawling back to him.

She stops just out of his reach.

"No," she says.

Silas's hand hangs in the air. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm not going back to the village with you," Elara says. Her voice is calm. Clear. It carries across the whole garden. "I'm not going back to my cottage either. Except to pack my things."

His smile falters. "What do you mean? Elara, what are you talking about?"

She turns, but not all the way. Just enough to look back over her shoulder. At the cabin. At the three of us standing on the porch.

At me.

"I'm already betrothed," she says. "To them."

The world stops.

"All three of them," she adds.

I forget how to breathe. I forget my own name. I forget everything except her face, turned toward me in the starlight, soft and certain and fierce.

She chose us.

Us.

Beside me, Zarek lets out a sound I've never heard from him before. Something like a broken laugh. Rhydian's grip on the railing goes slack, and the corners of his mouth start to twitch upward, like a smile is fighting its way out of him and he's losing.

Silas, though. He's furious.

"Three men?" His voice rises to a shout. "You can't be engaged to three men! That's obscene! It's ridiculous! The elders have already decided. You're marrying me!"

"I never agreed to marry you," Elara says. "Not once. Not ever."