Chapter 2: Wedding Night Duties

"Do you take this woman.."

"I've done this six times already," Nero interrupted. "Just skip to the end."

The priest's face went pale. "But Alpha, the sacred vows require…"

"Five minutes ago, she killed my last bride. I think we can bypass the sacred part."

I stood there in a dead woman's dress, leaves still tangled in my hair, and wondered if this was actually happening or if I'd hit my head harder than I thought when I fell.

The priest cleared his throat nervously. "Do you, Alpha Nero Blackwater, take this woman as your  bride?"

"Sure."

"And do you—" He squinted at me. "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Remi," I whispered. "Remi Olandria Cross."

"Do you, Remi Olandria Cross, take Alpha Nero Blackwater as your husband?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Nero's hand tightened. "She does," he said.

"Actually, I should probably—"

"She does," he repeated, louder this time. His eyes met mine. 

The priest hurried through the rest. Something about the Moon Goddess and eternal bonds and pack law. I wasn't listening. I was staring at the white sheet covering the bride's body twenty feet away.

They'd carried her off to the side. Out of the way. Like she was furniture.

"I caught a glimpse of her hand before they covered it. Something green under her fingernails. Like... plant residue? Or something else?"

"You may now kiss the bride."

My head snapped up. "Wait, we don't have to—"

Nero leaned in close enough that I could smell him. 

"Your parents," he said quietly. "Your siblings. Those two friends who ran away. I know where they all live."

My blood went cold.

"So you're going to kiss me," he continued, "And you're going to make it convincing. Understand?"

I stared at him. 

"Understand?" he repeated.

I nodded.

His hand came up, fingers tilting my chin. And then he kissed me.

I'd kissed Marcus plenty of times. Sweet kisses. Soft kisses. The kind that made you feel warm and safe.

This wasn't that.

This was heat and possession and something that made my wolf sit up and pay attention.

 His mouth moved against mine and my brain short-circuited. I forgot where I was. Forgot the crowd watching. Forgot everything except the way his thumb brushed my jaw and how my whole body leaned into him without permission.

Finally, my wolf purred. More of this.

Shut up, I told her. We're being threatened.

He tastes good though.

He did taste good. Damn it.

Nero pulled back. There was a smirk on his face.

"Are you sure you're my nephew's girl?" he said, just loud enough for me to hear.

My face burned. "Fuck  you."

"Good. We're off to a great start."

Drums started beating. The crowd shifted, forming lines on either side of us.

The priestess stepped forward, holding a ceremonial bowl. She was dressed in white robes, her face painted with symbols.

"The consummation will now proceed," she announced. "The pack will remain here until confirmation of the Alpha's heir."

Wait.

What?

"I'm sorry," I said. "Did you just say—"

Oh god.

They were waiting for us to—

"No," I said. "No, no, no—"

"NERO."

An older woman's voice cut through the crowd. Her eyes were the same silver as Nero's.

"Mother," Nero said flatly.

"Stop this. Now."

"Not really the time—"

"She's not one of ours." His mother looked at me with pure disdain. "She's not even Moonstone Pack. She's riverside trash. She won't last the night—"

"YOU chose the last six brides," Nero interrupted. His voice dropped to dangerous. "Every single one. All dead within days. So forgive me if I don't trust your judgment anymore."

His mother's face went tight. "Your father would roll over in his grave if he knew—"

"My father is dead. And you're done picking my brides." He pulled me closer. "This one's mine."

She stared at him for a long moment. Then her eyes slid to me.

"Mark my words," she said quietly. "This one won't survive till morning."

Then she turned and walked away.

I looked up at Nero. "Your family's great. Really warm."

Nero started walking. I stumbled after him, still in bare feet, the wedding dress dragging on the ground.

The pack parted for us, forming a processional line. 

We reached a set of massive doors with guards standing on either side.

The Alpha chambers.

My stomach dropped.

"Wait—" I tried to stop, but Nero kept moving, pulling me with him.

The pack filed in behind us, lining the hallway. More drums and witnesses.

This is like a horror movie, I thought wildly. Or one of those dark romance novels where the heroine dies in chapter three. Finally, we reached another door. Nero opened it.

A massive bedroom with a four-poster bed, dark walls, and candles everywhere.

He pulled me inside.

We were alone, but I could hear the pack waiting outside.

Waiting for proof that we'd—

"Okay," I said, my voice too high. "So we don't actually have to do this, right? You just go back out there and say it's done and they leave—"

Nero turned to face me.

"No."

"No?"

"Evidence must be submitted to the priestess."

"Evidence?" My voice cracked. "What kind of evidence?"

"My seed. Proof of consummation."

The room tilted.

"I'm a virgin," I blurted out.

"I know."

"How do you—" I stopped. "You know what, I don't want to know. This is insane. You can't actually expect me to—"

He stepped closer. I stepped back. "My bloodline fights the curse. If I leave an heir in you tonight, you have a fighting chance."

"The other six didn't survive."

“Luck isn’t something my brides have." He took another step. "We're doing this tonight."

YES, my wolf said immediately. Finally. Yes. Absolutely yes.

"Did you miss the part where six women DIED?" I said to her.

But he's so—

"Don't even finish that sentence."

Nero was watching me. He started unbuttoning his shirt. "Strip."

"Excuse me?"

"We're running out of time. The longer we wait, the stronger the curse gets."

"This is—I can't just—"

He pulled his shirt off.

Oh.

Oh no.

He was built like he spent every day fighting bears. Broad shoulders. Defined chest. Abs that should be illegal.

See? my wolf said smugly. Death wish. Totally worth it.

"Stop staring," Nero said.

"I'm not staring."

"You're staring."

"You took your shirt off in front of me. That's on you."

He almost smiled. Then he turned around, giving me privacy.

I stared at his back. At the way his muscles moved under his skin. At the scars crisscrossing his shoulders.

He'd been in fights. Real ones.

My fingers went to the laces of my dress. I hesitated.

"I can hear your heartbeat," he said, not turning around. "You're terrified."

"Six dead wives. You do the math."

"Fair point."

I unlaced the dress. Let it pool at my feet. I was standing in just my undergarments, shaking.

I'd been planning to surprise my boyfriend Now I was half-naked in a stranger's bedroom, about to have sex to maybe-possibly-probably-not survive a curse.

Nero unbuckled his belt.

I should've looked away.

I didn't.

He pushed his pants down. Stepped out of them. He was in just his briefs now, and I could see everything. The muscles in his thighs. His ass, which was unfairly perfect.

Such a wild imagination for someone about to die, my wolf teased. And didn't your boyfriend just cheat on you?

"He's objectively attractive," I muttered. "That's just facts."

Nero climbed into bed. Pulled the sheet over himself. Then he turned to look at me.

His eyes went wide.

For the first time since I'd met him, his control cracked.

His pupils dilated. His breathing changed. I watched his body react under the sheets—watched his arousal become very, very obvious.

He was BEAUTIFUL.

Oh god.

He was hard. Very hard. And there was... a lot of him.

"Fuck," he breathed.

I froze.

He stared at me like I was the only thing in the world. Like he'd forgotten how to think.

"You're—" He shook his head, like he was trying to clear it. "Fuck."

"That's not a complete sentence."

He moved fast. Suddenly, he was right there, kneeling in front of me on the bed, his hand coming up to cup my face.

"You're fucking beautiful," he said. "Spicy eyes."

My breath caught. He leaned in, and His thumb traced my bottom lip.

"I'm going to—"

"His hand slid down my stomach. Lower. I stopped breathing. This was happening. This was actually—

Then he stopped.

His hand dropped, and His whole body went rigid  like he'd just remembered something

"Get dressed," he said.

"What?"

He grabbed my clothes. Threw them at me.

"Get dressed. Now."

"I thought you said we had to—"

"Change of plans." He climbed out of bed, wrapping a towel around himself.

"But the evidence. The people outside—"

"I'm the Alpha." His voice was cold again. Distant. "They listen to me. Not the other way around."

"But this gives me a fighting chance against the curse—"

He spun on me. His eyes flashed silver.

"Maybe I don't want you to fight it," he said quietly. "Maybe I want you dead."

I flinched.

He stared at me for another second. Then he grabbed his pants, pulled them on, and headed for the door.

"Wait—"

The door slammed behind him.

I heard the lock click from the outside.

He locked me in.

I stood there, half-naked, holding my dress, and stared at the door.

Outside, the music was still playing. The pack was still waiting.

But he'd left me here.

Alone.

I pulled my dress back on. My hands were shaking.

"I'm not dying here," I said out loud. "I'm not one of those stupid romance novel heroines who dies for some cursed alpha. Fuck that."

I needed to get out. Get back to my parents. To Jade and Zaya. To people who actually gave a shit if I lived or died.

I searched the room. Looked for another exit. A window I could climb out of. A key. Anything.

Nothing.

I was about to start trying to pick the lock when I spotted something under the bed.

A book.

No. A sketchbook.

I pulled it out. There were Pages and pages of drawings.

Creatures. Wolves mid-transformation, but wrong. Twisted. Their bones breaking in ways that shouldn't be possible.. Notes scribbled in tight handwriting.

Symbols I didn't recognize. Runes, maybe.

He was studying the curse.

I kept flipping. More sketches. More notes. Then—

I stopped.

The page was crumpled. Like someone had tried to throw it away and then changed their mind.

I smoothed it out.

It was a drawing of a woman’s face. Beautiful. Detailed. Drawn with care.

My face.

My heart stopped.

I flipped back through the book, searching for a date.

There In the corner of the page.

Three months ago.

Three months before I'd ever crashed that wedding. Three months before I'd ever heard the name Nero Blackwater.

My hands started shaking.

Outside, the music finally stopped. The pack was leaving. Giving up on the consummation.

I stared at my own face in the drawing.

"This wasn't an accident," I whispered.