Se connecterOPHELIA
“Including marrying me for the next three months?’
The relief I had from having met a saviour drops instantly at his proposal. Become his wife? But I don’t even know him!
Staring back at me, his blue eyes search mine but he’s determined. It’s clear he’s not joking with the proposal but why would he even want a stranger to be his wife?
He seems perfectly normal and extremely handsome to be short of ladies. His stormy blue eyes carry a depth to them and his black hair falls in contrast to his smooth skin.
His tall and muscled build poses a powerful demeanor with the tailored suit he is wearing. Judging from the luxurious car he came out from and the fact that he has a driver, he is definitely a rich werewolf in this Pack.
He looks like he has what it takes to protect me from Terry or any other danger. And frankly, I can use the help especially as I hadn’t had a roof over my head for the past few days.
But agreeing to be his wife? I ran away from home because my stepfather wanted to marry me off to a stranger. And now, I have to marry another stranger?
“Come to me, Ophelia.” Terry growls from behind me and I shudder from the threat in his voice.
“Well, if you’re not interested, I can just leave–” He turns away and I grab his arm immediately.
“Wait!” I pull my hand away when his blue eyes meet mine. A sizzling sensation passes through my hands and I look down, taking one last second to contemplate my decision.
“I will be your wife.” I mutter. “Now, please save me.”
A smirk curls onto the side of his lips and he takes a step forward. Softly, his hand pulls my chin upward and tingles fill my skin from his touch.
“Your wish is my command, wife.” His deep voice rumbles and I gulp, knots tightening in my stomach.
Why am I acting this way around him?
“Gentlewolves.” He pulls me behind him, his broad shoulders acting as a barrier between Terry and me. “We don’t have to do this the hard way. She’s with me now so you can scurry off to wherever you came from.”
“Stay out of this if you don’t want your pretty face to get messed up, pup.”
I peek from behind him to see Terry snarling, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Behind him, his gang of wolves growl at us.
“Hand us the girl and we’ll make sure you get out of here scot-free.” Terry hisses and terror overwhelms me at the tense situation.
If a fight ensues, it will be one against five. Was I stupid to think that he would be able to save me?
Slowly, the handsome werewolf takes off his suit jacket and hands it to the old driver. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He grunts.
One of the wolves lunges first and my heart falls to my stomach. The rich wolf moves with startling speed and his hand catches the wolf by its scruff mid-air.
In the blink of an eye, he slams it onto the asphalt with a bone-chilling crack ripping across the air.
Undauntedly, another one rushes from behind, his sharp claws aiming for the handsome stranger. He twists, ramming his elbow back into the wolf’s snout-like visage and it yelps in pain.
Another punch to the jaw and the wolf falls unconscious, its face dislocated brutally. The third and fourth avenges, their fangs baring with fury.
In less than two minutes, he fights off the four wolves. Terry stands dumbly, his eyes trembling with fear. My mouth is wide open with shock.
I’ve never seen such precise moves in my life. He has to be a trained fighter. How else could he have taken down four wolves in his human form? And that too, in a tailored suit!
“Come for her and you’ll end up in a much worse state than them.” His voice is laced with a dark promise.
Terry glares at me with disdain but he steps back, defeated and helpless. Then, he runs away like a scared puppy.
Turning towards me, the werewolf dusts off his suit and his eyes meet mine. Somehow, his eyes soften as he takes in my appearance.
“My name is Damian. I think we should at least know each other’s name before we sign a marriage contract.”
“Ophelia.” My voice comes out small.
Damian gives me a small smile. “Come, Ophelia. Let’s get you cleaned up so we can get married.”
*****
From a very young age, my mother always told me not to trust strangers. Especially those that appear to be kind and…too good to be true.
If my mother was here to witness my getting married to a complete stranger, she would have fainted from shock and disbelief.
Damian takes me to a motel closeby and checks me in. He tells me to take a much needed shower while he goes out to get me some clothes.
After telling him the right sizes, I get to work. I never knew how just spending some days away from home can be this humbling.
My entire body is filled with dirt from sleeping on the ground and my hair stinks like a skunk’s fart. I spend close to an hour in the bathroom and when I come out, a white casual dress, pair of underwear and footwear is waiting for me on the bed.
After that, we head to the court for the marriage to be sealed and stamped.
“There. Officially married under the laws of the Cryptid Pack.” The court officiator says with a wide toothy smile.
DAMIANInstant silence cuts across the chatter of the wedding guests. Immediately, every single person in attendance rises to their feet, their faces an expression of surprise and shock. As all eyes are locked on the one person taking all the attention currently. My father, Murdock Crypthill, supported on one hand by a stunned guard and on the other, his single crested acne that he hasn't held in months before his coma. His eyes are cold, locked straight at me. And me…I literally am shocked, beyond measure, that he is out here. Yet unable to process if this is true or some mischievous prank. “Father…” I let out those words slowly and carefully. My mind argues that this is not possible. That Father would not be up at this time. That I am only seeing things because somehow I expect that I would have my father attend my wedding.Because what now? Having him here, with all the things that have happened of late. Would he even be proud of me being crowned as his successor? Would he al
OPHELIAMy heart slows down as we proceed into the hall, walking down the path created for us.A low ceremonial hum–ancient and almost haunting--followed. It sounds like it was woven from voices and instruments of the old age. The guests all turn to us and I try not to squirm under the pressure of a hundred pairs of eyes on me. Intsead, I focus on Damian who keeps his eyes ahead and walks with unmatched confidence.I mirror his steps, breathing out slowly to release some tensions. Some guests smile at me and I hear others gushing over how pretty I am.I don't see any negative reactions so far and this puts me at ease. “You're doing great, Ophelia.” Damian whispers and I break out a smile.Soon, we get to the stage and the officiator begins the ceremony.“Today, we're gathered here to celebrate a union of one of its kind. A harmony between two souls to blend into one. And we are the witnesses of this love story.”I try my best not to glance at the crowd, fully aware that each of my m
OPHELIAMy hands are shaking. As I stand before the double doors of the banquet hall with Damian, I realise I'm nervous–more than I should be.When I made the decision to go ahead with the wedding, I had thought thoroughly about it.I weighed the pros and cons and realised that the consequences of postponing the wedding was much greater than not.I know how hard Damian had worked for this day and how much resistance he had faced so far. I've only been with him for about a week now but the things I've experienced are beyond me.And that's what he has probably had to go through for the past years of his life. I had to remind myself that this wasn't just our wedding but also the coronation. And to Damian…that's everything. I had to put my feelings aside in order for him to achieve that which he has longed for. I didn't want to be a hindrance in his path.But now, standing before the wedding hall and listening to the guests waiting and anticipating our arrival, I wonder if I had inadve
OPHELIAA wave of nausea hits me. My senses jolt back to reality.My fingers twitch and I move my body slightly due to discomfort. My ears pick up shuffling and I tense, afraid for a reason I don’t quite know yet. What happened? Where am I?“Ophelia.” a voice calls out to me and somehow, all my nerves washes away. A hand, gentle as it can be, strokes my head. “Ophelia, can you hear me?”“Your Majesty, are you awake?” Forcing my eyes open, I squint, trying to adjust to blinding lights. My head aches and I can’t seem to understand why and my limbs have fallen weak, unable to move as I would want to.“O-Ophelia.” Damian’s face comes into view, his eyebrows furrowed and concerned. “Are you alright?” He cups my face with his hand and I nod, letting out a deep breath.“I-I am fine.” I utter then look around to notice we’re not alone in the room. Katrina is by my left, holding my hand shakily while Reagan, Sir Wicker, and even Henrick are behind Damian.Are we done with the wedding? What i
DAMIANMy bride lays with her eyes closed– as if she is at peace with everything that has happened. But I know better. I know more than anyone else that this should not have happened. We were supposed to walk into nuptial bliss under the eyes of the guests. This was not part of it. I stand at the foot of the bed, in her room, my fingers tightened into fists. My heart races with uncertainty as I watch Henrick l hover about her, doing what physicians do best. He checks her pulse and whatnot but my mind is far distracted from what happens here. . I just want this done with.I want whoever was behind this to be brought to book. There is so much that is happening– so much that I am lost. And I hate being lost. “She…” Henrick says, looking at me as he rises from bending over Ophelia. “..will be fine in a few. She is a fighter and I'm certain she will wake up in a couple of minutes.”“Minutes?” I frown at him. “We don’t… shit.” I gasp out, punching into the open air. “I understand but
DAMIAN My body moves before my brain can catch up. Before my mind can make sense of this whole thing at all. I didn’t call for Ophelia— I never sent a card. This is all wrong. It’s exactly as I feared. My heartbeat races as I jet through the corridor, eyes narrowed, fangs beat. Guests, guards and palace staff rush aside to allow my passage.And I know they wonder why— why the groom must be this crazed on his wedding night.“Out of the way!” I yell loud, making Sir Wicker and Reagan break apart. “Damian” Reagan calls. “What’s happening?” But I am far gone to stop. My pulse is racing, mind in turmoil for fear that if I slow down— even a split second, I would lose her. I break through the inner garden doorways, gasping as I forcefully break my race. The inner garden is quiet— too quiet. And dark.There should be lighting, music drifting from the west wing and staff chatter as they go about their duties in trimming, pruning and garden care. But it’s quiet— awfully quiet. I look







