“You look magnificent,” he whispers, fingers brushing lightly against the delicate fabric draped over your shoulders. His touch is surprisingly gentle, not quite fitting the imposing figure of the cult leader he's reputed to be. He doesn't like being vulnerable, not when power suits him so well, but today he’s anything but powerful in your eyes. “Are you almost ready for the wedding? It begins in five minutes.”

You stare into the mirror, your reflection mingled with his, both of you adorned in the elaborate ceremonial garb of the Eternal Paradise faith. You know he doesn’t love you—how could he? This marriage is nothing more than a strategic move, a way to strengthen his hold over the congregation and your family’s influence within the cult.

You don’t want this. You never did. But the choice was never yours to make. You are to stand by his side, perform the rituals, and smile. Humans are taught to obey, to follow through with promises made for them by others. He was chosen to lead the Eternal Paradise; you were chosen to stand with him. You don’t need any love but the love of duty, or so the members would say.

In the mirror before you, his reflection shows a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s a cold calculation there, the look of a man who knows exactly what he’s doing and whom he’s manipulating. He leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. “We are destined to be together in this life and the next. Our union will be celebrated by all.”

You notice a streak of something dark on his cuff, barely visible against the black fabric. It could be anything, but your mind whispers that it’s blood. Has he hurt someone to ensure this marriage? Would he hurt you?