My New Bride

Damian

The ride back home is quiet

Too quiet, in fact.

Not her voice. Not my thoughts. Not even the feral roar of my beast rumbling under my skin, threatening consistently to break free and wreak havoc in a fit of madness.

For once, in so long a time, even my beast is silent.

Ophelis sits just across from me, with a distracted look. Even though her gaze follows the shifting trees as we travel, I could pick the flinching, telltale looks of regrets  on her face. As though she considers an escape out of here. 

Even so, her straight back posture, upright chin and crossed legs catches my eyes. Like the clandestine manner of a woman in high graces. It fills me with pride, curving the corners of my lips upward in self appreciation. 

But beneath that, is the occasional tremble of her fingers. The frequent shifts of broken focus into sadness and anger, as she wages an internal war with her troubled mind. 

Not that it matters anymore. 

We are married already, by reason of contract. And nothing is to abort that until the tenure expires. 

Three months is the term of the contract. By the end of the term, I will be Alpha and then, she will be free to return to her life. 

That said, it does not matter how she feels about it. She is to only play her part, no matter how crude it may seem.

Her fingers tremble again, and a smile parts my lips once more. For what is worth, I move a finger to prod her side, pulling her attention to me.

“Do you regret it?” I ask once our eyes meet, slow and low. “The marriage.”

She lets out a sarcastic laugh, fixing her gaze on me. “I am married to a complete stranger.” An irritated look breaks out on her face. “Am I supposed to enjoy it?”

A chuckle escapes my lips as intrigue fills me. And then I realize, I have not really conversed with her. But there is a lack of subject matter to discuss with her—save to remind her role once we arrive.

I draw a breath. “You know the rules right? You know what is expected of you, as you are my wife now. And for three months, you are to live as such without giving any iota of doubt to anyone, understood?”

Her eyes narrow, nostrils flare, highlighting the further disgust on her face. “Oh really, I did not remember hiring you as my reminder steward.”

“I am–”

“Save it!” Ophelia cuts in. “Let's just get this done with and get out of each other's way.” She says, huffing to the window again, completely ignoring me.

And that irks me, madly.

So in a low voice, I call out to her. “I am still talking, Ophelia. You do not interrupt me. You do not turn your back when I speak. You do not–”

“I do not breathe without you saying so, yes, got it!” Ophelia turns around, scowling.

“Yes.” I nod.

“W-what?” She gasps in disbelief, then with a  tone dripping with sarcasm. “Would you want to brand your slave contract on my chest as well, my lord?”

“If need be, Ophelia.” I blurt out, letting the words hang out in the air before I continue. 

“Yes, Ophelia. You would do as I want when I want, and wherever I want. And in return, my protection and my assets will cover and protect you. Do you understand?”

“That sounds more like a slave contract than a marriage.” She rolls her eyes.

And again, I affirm. “Yes, I call the shots.”

“My God, you’re insufferable.” She mutters softly, nearly evoking a smile from me but I straighten up. 

“What a romantic honeymoon this is.” Ophelia huffs.

“Romance was never part of the deal.” I chirp in quietly, taking note of the shifting expressions of shock, anger, and disgust on her face.

But it does not matter. We are married, and bound to each other until the tenure is over. And until that happens, I will have to keep putting her in place, lest she oversteps.

We are partners in this, not friends and certainly not lovers. And it shall remain that way.

Ophelia says nothing to me, except fiddling with her fingers. And every now and then, I catch the gaze of the old driver’s eyes through the rear view mirror.

The silence returns but this time, it is comforting and welcoming. The row of trees finally thins out as our ride cuts into open fields.  And just some meters ahead is home—the Cryptic Castle.

The stone castle stands high and easily towers above the other buildings in the vicinity. It is a breathtaking sight that captures attention consistently.

Especially Ophelia’s.

She leans forward as we drive into the estate, her lips parting in surprise. As if I have taken her into a world of wonder. Except this is only just where I live.

As the car rolls to a stop in the driveway, palace guards salute us. I ignore all of that, to focus on her as she shifts from left to right, soaking in the sights.

All of which fills me with pity. That perhaps, this was all too much for her. After all, she had only just escaped her pursuers, by my hands. 

And now, she is here, on the big reveal of who I am really. But pity was a grace too great to afford. The sooner she can soak all this in, the easier we can achieve our goals.

“Oh, I forgot to mention, Ophelia.” I start slow. “But I am the Alpha’s son, Regent Alpha of the Cryptic Pack.” I casually blurt in as my driver exits the car to open my door. 

There and then, I catch the widening of her eyes, the parting of her lips as she mulls on my words. Witnessing this fills me with a strange sense of satisfaction as she finally realizes what she walks into. 

Except that now, there is no escape– no, not really. 

Slave or wife, Ophelia… Now let our nuptial performance begin.  .