"Ariana," Mr. Charles Cummings' voice cut through the heavy silence of the drawing-room, sharp and lacking any warmth. "I called for you because we have something urgent to discuss."
Ariana, small and pale in the large armchair, clutched her shawl tighter despite the stuffy heat of the room. Her chest felt tight, a familiar pressure that Dr. Hart always dismissed. "Something urgent? What's that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She avoided looking at her stepmother, Lila, perched elegantly on the sofa like a predator, or her twin, Elena, who was meticulously examining her nails.
Mr. Cummings leaned forward, his face grim but his eyes cold. "We just got your report from Dr. Hart, which says you have six months left, or less, to live."
The words hit Ariana like a physical blow. Six months? Less? "Six what?" Her breath hitched. "But I thought I was getting better after the medication she said I should be taking. How or what does she mean by that... this isn't real."
Lila let out a soft, disbelieving tsk. "Oh, it's very real, dear. The doctor was quite clear." Her smile was thin, cruel.
Mr. Cummings waved a dismissive hand. "It is as it is. Well, this isn't the primary reason I asked for you. Get ready. You will take your sister's place and get married to the blackthorn family."
Ariana stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment. Married? "Married? I thought it was Elena who was getting married. Why me?, why the sudden change?"
"It's not something you should think about," Mr. Cummings said, his tone final. "It has already been decided. You will get married to the blackthorn family, and not Elena."
Panic began to bloom in Ariana's chest, cold and sharp. "But I'm sick! I don't even want to get married to someone I don't love. If I do, who will take care of Ama at the nursing home?" Her grandmother, Cecilia, was the only light in her life, the only one who had ever shown her genuine affection.
Lila finally spoke, her voice dripping with feigned concern that barely masked her glee. "Do what your father asked, Ariana. Besides, you are dying anyway. It saves us the trouble of finding someone else, your sister has better things to do with her life. But don't worry," she added, a sickeningly sweet smile spreading across her face, "we are going to give you a befitting burial."
A befitting burial? While she was still alive? Ariana turned her head slowly to look at Elena, who still hadn't met her eyes. Elena, the golden twin, the one who was supposed to marry this terrifying 'beast' of an alpha. "You're accepting this?" Ariana asked, her voice trembling. "I thought it was you. Why are y'all doing this to me?, why the change of plans?"
Elena finally looked up, her sharp green eyes filled with something Ariana couldn't quite decipher – was it guilt? No, it looked more like impatience. "Please, sis," Elena began, her voice suddenly soft and pleading, a performance Ariana knew well. "You know I'm the only one who cares for you since our mother died." That was a lie. Elena had barely acknowledged her existence since they were children. "Please, just do this one thing for me. I can't be bound to that monster for the rest of my life. They said he's scary and ugly. Please, just this favor, I beg you."
Ariana felt a bitter laugh bubble up, sharp and painful. "So I'm the one that is fit to get married to the monster, right? Because I'm already... disposable?" Her voice cracked on the last word. "And a befitting burial? I'm alive, and y'all are already planning my funeral?" She pushed herself up from the chair, finding a sliver of strength fueled by outrage. "I won't get married."
Mr. Cummings' face darkened. "You have no choice, Ariana. It is already decided."
"Decided by whom?" Ariana shot back, her voice gaining a rare intensity. "By you? By her?" She gestured towards Elena. "You all are the real monsters. You're not marrying me off; you're looking for a way to get rid of me."
Lila rose now, her face a mask of cold fury. "You just sit here all day, a drain on our resources, wasting our precious money. At least make yourself useful for once and take your sister's place. Everything has been arranged. Do this last thing for your father!"
"You are evil," Ariana whispered, tears blurring her vision. "I hate y'all."
The sound of Mr. Cummings' open palm connecting with her cheek cracked through the tense air. Ariana stumbled back, her head snapping to the side, the sting immediate and searing.
"Enough!, this is your problem, you know you are sick and have no choice and at the same time you are so disrespectful" Mr. Cummings roared, his face contorted in anger. "Take her away! Dress her! They will be here in a few minutes, and if she refuses tie her and send her away."
Strong hands seized Ariana's arms, pulling her roughly from the room. She didn't fight them, the shock of the slap and the weight of her family's betrayal crushing her. As she was dragged away, she caught one last glimpse of Elena, who quickly looked down, avoiding her eyes. Lila watched her go, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. Mr. Cummings merely adjusted his tie, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.
Ariana was hustled down the hallway, away from the gilded drawing-room and the people who were supposed to be her family. Her cheek burned, but the pain in her chest, the pain of being utterly unwanted, was far worse. Married. To a monster. Because she was dying anyway. The words echoed in her mind, a cruel lullaby promising only darkness. They were giving her away like damaged goods, a sacrifice offered to some unknown beast, all to save Elena from a fate she deemed beneath her.
Later that day, somehow, through a desperate plea she couldn't recall making or perhaps just a flicker of convenience on her father's part before sealing her fate, she was allowed a brief visit to the nursing home. Seeing Ama's frail hand clutching hers, hearing her soft, confused murmurs, solidified something cold and hard inside Ariana. Ama was the only one who needed her, the only one she needed to protect. How could she protect her if she was gone? Elena had visited too, her usual polished facade cracking slightly as she whispered her pleas again, "I promise, I will do you anything you want, please just take my place, I beg of you" painting a picture of her own terror of Darius, making Ariana feel a twisted sense of pity. It was a potent cocktail of manipulation and love for her grandmother that finally broke Ariana's fragile resolve. For Ama, she would endure anything. " I am not accepting your plea, but I would rather go there than spend another hour in that God forsaken place I call home" she responded.
For Ama, she would walk into the beast's cage.
The hours that followed were a blur. Hands dressed her in a gown that felt too heavy, too bright for the darkness gathering around her. They adorned her with jewels that felt like chains. There was no joy, no nervous anticipation of a future with a loved one. There was only the cold, clinical efficiency of preparing an offering. A dying girl dressed as a bride, ready to be delivered to a monster's door. The night was falling, casting long, ominous shadows. The car waited outside, a black, silent carriage ready to take her to her fate. She was Ariana Cummings, and tonight, she was the dying girl's price.