The Devil’s Bride

“You will not ruin this day with your tears, Elara.”

Father’s fingers dug into my arm as he pulled me toward the mirror. The white gown felt like chains around my body.

I jerked away from him. “Then why are you selling me to that monster? Everyone knows what he is. They call him the Devil’s son for a reason.”

“Because our kingdom is days away from falling to Eldoria’s armies,” he snapped. “This marriage is the only way to save us. You should be grateful. Your cursed blood makes you the perfect sacrifice anyway.”

I stared at my reflection. The maids had painted my face pale and put flowers in my hair like I was some gift. “Grateful? You locked me away my whole life because of those rumors you started yourself. Now you throw me to the wolves.”

Old Martha stepped forward, her hands shaking as she adjusted my veil. “Please, princess. The guests are waiting. Prince Darius is already at the altar.”

I laughed. “Of course he is. Ready to claim his prize.”

Father stepped closer, his breath hot on my face. “Listen to me. You say the vows. You smile when they tell you to. If this alliance breaks because of your stubbornness, I will make sure your mother suffers for it. Do you understand?”

I felt betrayed. Mother was the only person who ever showed me kindness in this rotting castle. “You would use her against me?”

“I will do whatever it takes,” he said coldly. “Now move.”

The walk to the grand hall felt endless. My heart pounded so loud I could hear it in my ears. Servants lined the corridors, whispering as I passed.

“She’s actually going through with it…”

“The poor girl…”

“The Devil’s Heir will eat her alive…”

I kept my eyes forward. When we reached the tall doors, Father gripped my elbow again.

“Head high,” he whispered harshly. “Make me proud for once.”

The doors swung open. Hundreds of eyes turned to me. The hall smelled of incense and fear. At the far end stood Prince Darius Blackthorn.

He was taller than I expected, dressed in black with gold threading that caught the light. His face was like stone, dark hair falling over sharp features. Those eyes watched me with no warmth at all.

I felt my steps falter.

“Keep walking,” Father hissed, pushing me forward.

I reached the altar on shaky legs. Darius didn’t offer his hand. He just looked down at me like I was something he had to tolerate.

The priest cleared his throat. “Do you, Elara Voss of the Voss Kingdom, take this man as your husband?”

I hesitated. The silence stretched.

Father cleared his throat loudly behind me.

“I… I do,” I whispered.

Darius’s voice came next, deep and steady. “I do.”

The vows continued. Rings were exchanged. His fingers were cold when he slid the band onto mine.

When it was done, people clapped, but it sounded forced. Darius leaned down slightly, his breath brushing my ear.

“Try not to look so terrified, wife. People are watching.”

His words sent a shiver through me. I didn’t answer.

Now it was time for the feast. It passed in a blur of toasts and forced smiles. I barely ate. Darius sat beside me but said nothing more. His half-siblings watched us from across the table with calculating eyes, especially the one with the sly smile. I think his name was Lord Ronan.

Hours later, the servants led us away from the cheering crowd.

“This way, Your Highnesses,” one of them said nervously.

They took us to the wedding chamber. The room was beautiful, heavy curtains, a massive bed covered in silk, candles everywhere. But it felt like a cage.

The servants bowed and left quickly.

The door closed with a heavy thud.

I stood in the middle of the room, my hands shaking at my sides. Darius walked over to the window and looked out into the night, his back to me.

The silence pressed down on me until I couldn’t bear it.

“My lord…” I started, my voice barely above a whisper.

He turned around slowly. His dark eyes met mine directly for the first time without everyone watching.

“Now we are alone, Elara,” he said quietly, his tone flat but dangerous. “Tell me. Are you ready for what comes next in this marriage?”