As she walked closer to the altar, her long, tapered fingers clutched her dress hard - an action that went unnoticed by the guests because her hands were swallowed by the voluminous folds of her gown - but Evie's eyes remained fixated on the floor. Her face was still facing forward but her eyes were trained on that single spot, always 5 feet away in front of her on the floor. She couldn't relax. She felt like she was walking on a small, thin stretch of road between vampire and human armies on the battlefield right before they collided and killed each other. Above all, she felt like a small, innocent little lamb voluntarily walking to the butcher's house to be sacrificed, despite being promised that her soon-to-be husband and the vampires would never hurt her.
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