Chapter 4 - The Witch and The Ruined Wedding Party

Moments ago,

The Grand Hall of Tathoris,

Astrid's POV

The air was too clean... too bright and too perfect for me to discribe.

However, the wedding of Alpha Jaxon Reid Fenrir was built on Lumira’s fresh grave... so that's why I feel like puking.

I leaned against cold marble, nursing another goblet of chilled champagne. The taste of hypocrisy coated my tongue because this glass and marble monstrosity was not a venue; it was a cage of gilded lies.

I watched my brother, Jaxon, a monolith of gold-threaded arrogance. Beside him, Selene Eryndor was a porcelain doll. She was radiant in scarlet, her smile was manufactured innocence.

I could smell the calculated sickeningly sweet perfume of her performance. She shyly clutched the white lilies an elder had offered her, a pious mockery of the girl she helped destroy.

The other elders then approached; their voices were slick with flattery and their eyes were sharp with appraisal. The silence came when Elder Darnel leaned in and spat Lumira's name like spoiled meat.

“May the gods forget her soul.”

Selene, the actress, dropped her head. It was a manufactured gesture of grief, as she placed a delicate hand on Jaxon’s arm.

“Please, Elder, let us not speak ill of the dead. Lumira was a good girl, in her own way. We should pray for her peace.”

'Pray for her peace? Like you didn't throw a party when she died.' I thought with a bitter scoff.

She delivered that line with the finesse of a knife plunging into silk. The fools around us cheered her "kindness." Their whispers about the "cursed Lumira" grew meaner and Jaxon's arm on Selene tightened possessively, a gesture of silent approval.

Didn't he he know that he was the most sickening part of the lie?

Just then a servant arrived holding a small lacquered box. It was weirdly red and black, covered in sigils that seemed to squirm in the candlelight.

It was obviously odd, but I couldn't have choreographed what happened next.

"Wow!" Selene gasped.

It was a light social sound, as she flicked the clasp open. But the laughter died in her throat, as her eyes widened in horror. The silence that followed was terrifying.

There was no jewel in it but a heart. It was still raw and wet, glistening obscenely against the opulent backdrop.

Selene’s shriek was primal, tearing through the perfect façade. The heart fell onto her scarlet gown. Blood instantly leeched into the silk.

Jaxon roared, as he wrapped her close. He radiated blind furious Alpha-heat. But before he could act, the box erupted. The Howler's voice was a distorted and layered choir of pure malice which filled the silent hall.

“I CURSE this union, and CURSE this house. May your marriage rot, may your love blacken, your line be cut short. This heart is but the first offering.”

The scream of "Pulse grenade!" barely registered when he detonation hit. I dropped my instinct overriding grace. The sound was a crushing physical blow which tore at my eardrums.

The box exploded, causing the crystals above rained down like razor-sharp snow. The hall groaned; the world tilted. When I pushed myself up, the air was thick, smelling metallic of ozone and ruined gold.

------

Moments later,

Mason's POV

The shockwave felt like a giant fist. It slammed into my chest as I exited Lumira’s funeral.

My Beta instincts took over as I made it to the event hall. It was a wreck. I fought through the smoke, as the wailing sirens of the police tore through the chaos outside.

My job was duty: secure, contain, and protect the Alpha. But the protective heat I felt for Jaxon was tainted.

Maybe because it felt like protecting a murderer.

“Secure the exits! Tend to the injured! Sweep for residues - now!” My voice was a gravel-rough command, cutting through the rising panic.

I glanced at Alpha Jaxon. He held Selene tight. His eyes blazed, the fury masked his terror. Luna Selene, ever the tactician, saw me and instantly focused her performance.

"It... it must be her, Jaxon. Only she would do something so horrible," she choked out.

Her voice was fractured and perfectly pathetic.

The accusation was immediate. It was damning, but it was a lie I couldn't challenge.

Lumira was alive.

She was now fragile, and possibly half-mad after she was freshly pulled from her own tomb. If I admitted that, I will be signing her arrest warrant.

The police officer asked the routine question. Jaxon delivered the verdict. His voice was cold venom, his eyes were hard with hate.

“Only one enemy would desecrate vows with such cowardice. Lumira Duskbane.”

My jaw locked as a dull agonizing ache welled up in my chest. The bitter taste of betrayal coated my tongue. I was forced to let them frame the girl I knew was waiting for execution.

Suddenly, Alpha Astrid walked towards them. She moved with a glorious furious streak of purpose. Her eyes blazed with a fierce beautiful clarity which none of the others possessed it.

“Are you serious, Jaxon?” Her voice was a sharp blade. It sliced through the smoke and noise. “You're blaming a dead girl? As if Lumira is the only soul who might hate you both?”

She advanced on them. She forced the confrontation, afterall was challenging the Alpha in public. She was risking everything... and I envied her for it.

"But it's the truth..."

"A wedding to eclipse a funeral. Did you hope no one would notice, Selene?” Astrid’s laugh was a cold vicious crack of ice, aimed at Jaxon’s throat.

Selene collapsed into fresh sobs, as he turned to Jaxon for protection. She played the victim. She pulled the crowd back to her side, and the fools bought the tears. They always bought Selene's tears.

Irked, Astrid then turned to the police, her smile was a promise of torment.

“Hurry to Lumira’s mansion. Make sure you arrest her corpse before it’s buried.”

I stood rigid as my heart hammered in a dull painful rhythm. I had to let them chase a ghost, because Lumira needed time. Seraphina had texted me the truth: she at least needed seventy-two hours of quiet rest.

Every lie I permitted bought her life.

This entire attack was not about Jaxon’s pride. It was a brutal message. It was a terrifying call to arms. The moment they stepped out of line, chaos answered. Lumira, the resurrected Witch, was going to be a force of nature.

A surge of fierce protective loyalty washed over me. It was not duty. It was something far hotter and more dangerous.

I needed to find her... I needed to guard her.

I looked at the wreckage, the bloodstain on the floor, the pathetic relief in Selene's eyes... And I felt sick.

There and then, I swore a silent oath: When the Witch came for them, when Lumira finally rose to claim her vengeance, I would be her Beta.

Even if it meant that I would stand against my own blood.