Rebecca

Rebecca

The pen felt heavier than it should have.

I stared down at the clear white paper, which had the words “Marriage Certificate” printed neatly across the top. My name was already typed in bold letters beside the title ‘Bride’. The line next to ‘Groom’ bore a name I barely knew.

“Alpha King John Vaughn.”

My soon-to-be husband and my punishment.

I was dressed in a plain white dress. It was soft enough to drape over my skin and thick enough to hide the injuries on my back. My hair was pulled into a loose braid, barely held together by a silver pin that once belonged to my mother.

There were no flowers. No guests. No music. Just me, a dusty old desk in the royal registry room, and a single frame placed on the table beside me.

A picture of him.

He was smiling in the photo, dark-haired and sharply handsome. His eyes… They looked happy and he looked younger than the 30 year old I was forced to marry.

‘This is your husband now,’’ I told myself. ‘At least on paper.’

I sighed.

My life was a mess.

I held up the pen with trembling fingers.

The officiant said gently. “Once you sign, you will be legally bound to the Alpha King.”

I didn't react. I simply pressed the pen to the paper and signed.

As I set the pen down, a strange calmness settled over me, like I had finally stepped off the edge of a cliff I’d been standing on for years.

No one clapped. But I could see my family members getting congratulatory messages and smiling like they hadn't just sold me off. Some came to me with gifts and malicious smiles as I held on to my husband's picture.

My father was the last to approach me.

He didn’t hug me. He just placed a firm hand on my shoulder like I was a soldier going off to war.

“Make us proud,” he said, sternly.

I didn’t respond. I simply stepped back, turned away from the table, and walked toward the exit without a word.

The royal black car was waiting with a driver holding the door open as though I were someone important.

I slid into the seat without a glance back.

As the door closed with a soft thud. I held on to the picture frame tighter, resting it in my lap like a shield against the unknown.

I leaned my head against the window, staring blankly at the passing buildings, but my mind was far away thinking about everything I had lost.

My mother’s company.

The one thing she’d built from the ground up. The legacy they stripped from her after her death.

They thought marrying me off to the Alpha King would settle everything.

They thought I was just going to play the part of a quiet, submissive bride, they were wrong.

They had given me a new title, the Alpha King’s wife.

And I planned to use it.

I didn’t even notice when the car slowed or when the grand golden gates opened to reveal the estate surrounded by high stone walls and trimmed hedges. It was only when the driver cleared his throat and said, “We’ve arrived, my lady,” that I blinked out of my thoughts.

The door opened.

I stepped out, blinking against the sunlight.

A line of servants stood at attention, dressed in navy uniforms with silver accents. They bowed their heads. One by one, they greeted me.

“Welcome, Lady Vaughn.”

“Welcome, my Queen.”

“Welcome to the royal house.”

I felt like I was walking into a dream, a surreal, twisted one.

I glanced around, expecting to see the man I had just married.

But he wasn’t there.

Only strangers and a mansion that looked like it could house the entire city.

So this was home now.

The grand double doors swung open as I came in, revealing the marbled entryway of the Vaughn estate. Everything was worth money. Gold-trimmed walls, crystal chandeliers….this was awesome.

At the center of the hall there was a tall man dressed in a crisp black suit, standing with a straight posture and a smile. There was something familiar about his face.

“Lady Vaughn,” he said, bowing his head politely. “Welcome.”

“Thank you,” I replied, steadying my voice even though my nerves were screaming.

He stepped forward and extended a gloved hand. “Christopher Alden. But most people here call me Chris. I serve as the Alpha King’s right hand.”

“Chris.”

The name triggered a vague memory, my mother once mentioned the Aldens when I was younger. One of the five noble families that held real influence in this country. They were wealthy and feared.

Unlike the other noble sons who used to mock me in court events, Chris had never so much as looked at me with disdain.

“I know this may be overwhelming,” he added, “but I promise, you’ll be given time to adjust. You have your own wing in the estate, and if you need anything, servants, guards, or simply space, I will see to it.”

I nodded, grateful for his attempt at being nice.

He gave a faint smile, then motioned toward the staircase. “The Alpha King is waiting for you. I’ll take you to him.”

My heartbeat slowed. Or maybe it sped up, I didn't know anymore.

So he was here.

I followed Chris through the glittering halls of the palace filled with old paintings, high-arched ceilings, and the occasional servant who bowed in silence as we passed.

Eventually, we stopped in front of a grand set of double doors carved with intricate patterns of wolves howling at the moon. The handles were gold. Of course.

Chris turned to me. “He’s inside,” he said calmly, offering no more explanation.

I swallowed hard and nodded, my fingers tightening around the picture frame in my arms.

He opened the doors with a gentle push, revealing a massive room.

As I stepped in, the heavy door slammed shut behind me with a sharp thud and an audible click.

I frowned and turned around slowly, my heart thumping.

Why would he lock the door?

I turned back toward the room, toward him and that’s when I saw why.

I gasped, nearly dropping the picture frame.

The man lying in the bed… was not the same one from the photo.