Alpha's Wrong Bride: Seraphine

The silence struck harder than a bullet.One thousand eyes looked at Liana as she moved down the aisle. Velvet carpet swallowed the whisper of her heels. Her gown shone like an illusion, a silk prison that sparkled under suspended chandeliers like moons in sorrow.Gasps spread through the crowd like music. Too tall. Too human. Too wrong.Lady Virello's fan slipped from her fingers. Smooth wood struck marble with a sudden, ringing crash. Her husband, Lord Virello, leaned forward in his chair, nostrils flaring, lips trembling with strained indignation."That is not Stella," he breathed into the air.At the back of the altar, Dante's jaw hardened. A muscle twitched in his cheek. His wolf stirred under his skin, a slow, growling roll of confusion and instinct. That wasn't her. That wasn't Stella. That was a human. A stranger.Then, it arrived. Like wind seeping through bone."Control yourself," his father's voice crept through the bond, not words precisely. Something older, wilder. A comm

The silence struck harder than a bullet.One thousand eyes looked at Liana as she moved down the aisle. Velvet carpet swallowed the whisper of her heels. Her gown shone like an illusion, a silk prison that sparkled under suspended chandeliers like moons in sorrow.Gasps spread through the crowd like music. Too tall. Too human. Too wrong.Lady Virello's fan slipped from her fingers. Smooth wood struck marble with a sudden, ringing crash. Her husband, Lord Virello, leaned forward in his chair, nostrils flaring, lips trembling with strained indignation."That is not Stella," he breathed into the air.At the back of the altar, Dante's jaw hardened. A muscle twitched in his cheek. His wolf stirred under his skin, a slow, growling roll of confusion and instinct. That wasn't her. That wasn't Stella. That was a human. A stranger.Then, it arrived. Like wind seeping through bone."Control yourself," his father's voice crept through the bond, not words precisely. Something older, wilder. A comm

Liana's POVHer eyes widened. Barely. A flash of confusion."Lady Volmore," she said again, more slowly this time, as if maybe I'd hit my head or maybe she thought I needed reminding.As if I'd made this decision.As if I'd become this.No. I crawled back away from her on all fours, like an animal trapped in a cage. "Don't you say that. Don't you" I started laughing once more. That awful laugh. The one that made the guards tense and glance at each other like I was something to fear. Like I was going to develop horns and claws at any second."I'm not no, no, no-I didn't agree to this. I didn't agree to this!"I fought to rise, stumbling on shaky legs like a baby fawn on wheels."I don't know what sick cult this is or what kind of Stepford Bride mind control I was under, but it's shattered now, you hear me? I am awake."No one moved.The whisper woman recoiled, hands up. "Miss. Perhaps you should lie down. I can show you to your rooms""I'll burn down your rooms."She flinched.A whispe

Dante's POVRest. The term rested on the tip of my tongue, stiff and cold as ash. I wanted to say something—something—shatter the room. My fists, though, were still bunched up next to me, balls forming to rip apart my something, something."You've had enough." My Father announced as our eyes locked, parted, cold. "We'll take care of this. Return to your quarters. Not the time for further questions."There it was—the dismissal. The one that angered me. But he was in the right. Not exactly. I needed something from him, something I would not get screaming orders with clenched fists. So I bit the frustration in half, gulped it like a rock."Fine." Low, strained. I couldn't look at him anymore. If I did, something I couldn't take back would vomit from my lips. Something that would rip apart whatever tenuous thread of control I still maintained.I started to leave before I could, but his voice wrapped around me, cold manacles. "Rest, Dante. I'll talk to the Virellos. You'll get your answers.

I hardly have a chance to open my mouth before the girl turns and rushes away from me like a speck of dust on the impeccable surface of her life. No word, no glance, but the instant echo of her heels off smoth surfaces as if she's afraid that I'll follow in after her. Like an obedient little ghost bride.And worst of all, I do. Not because I'm confident in her. Not because I'd choose to.But because something inside me is breaking—and to follow her is simpler than remaining still. My legs work, my brain does not. We move through infinite corridors carved out of luxury and silence. The air is too pristine. The walls are too pale. Everything smells like power and refined deceit. The kind of place where no one ever raises their voice because their secrets are loud enough.My hands tremble against the fabric of my borrowed gown. I don't belong here. Each step echoes that truth.This isn't mine. This isn't mine. This isn't mine.A memory slices through the fog.That cold hard stone cham