Bound to the masked tyrant

HERA'S P.O.V

“Marriage is a sacred vow, the only agreement between humans recognized by the gods and today we are here to bless the union of our Alpha and his chosen Luna…..”

The voice of the priest drowned in my head as   my thoughts took precedence, Eleazar’s eyes held mine, his gaze blank yet it managed to erupt a tornado in me.

I tried my best not to falter, taking it upon myself to hold his gaze too.

If it is some sort of competition, it would be a shame to lose.

The hall was massive and so was the audience, dignitaries from every kingdom across the world watched as the priest conducted the sermon. Even the air in the hall smelt exotic and no matter how much I wanted to remain tall, I couldn’t help but question myself, do I really fit in?

As if responding to my thoughts, I heard a voice slice through my subconscious.

“Yes, I do.”

The tone, much more than the words conveyed a level of confidence that was both enviable and scary at the same time.

I looked up to the owner of the voice and that was when I realized I had lost in the staring contest, I had let my eyes drop from his. I pushed the thought away as I sort to piece the parts I had missed together, it would be embarrassing if I have to admit I had spaced out.

Eleazar only maintained his gaze, those dark eyes still  remained unreadable to me but for the first time I tried to imagine what they would say.

‘Do not cower.’

‘Do not think.’

‘Keep the facade of strength until you believe it.’

‘Do not disappoint me.’

“Do you Hera Michaels, princess of the white moon pack take Eleazar Reynolds, Alpha of Elisora pack to be your lawfully wedded husband, to stand by him in wealth and in poverty, in light and in darkness, in health and sickness, in your young age and till you grow old, to respect, to love, to protect and to remain loyal to till the end of your life?

I searched in his eyes for my response.

Was this the same question he was asked that he had responded with so much confidence to?

Was the confidence in his tone borne from how true they were or from years of deceit?

Did standing at the altar and taking this vow mean anything to him at all?

I knew what my answer would be, regardless of how I feel my answer would never change except of course if I was planning suicide in a grand style.

I swallowed, then looked up at the priest, my heart hammering in my chest, my voice loud and clear as I responded, “Yes, I do.” The words few yet their implications were countless.

I had just pledged my life to a future of uncertainties to a man I know nothing of but rumors.

Another glance at him and I almost laughed at myself.

I didn’t even know what he looked like behind that bloody mask.

“By the power vested on me, I pronounce you Husband and Wife.

“Alpha, you may kiss your Luna.”

My heart stopped for a second and the hall before me blurred.

Kiss??

Me??

I was supposed to kiss this man whose face I have never seen?

My eyes were wide behind my veil, anger and pain blinding me. I didn’t deserve any of this.

‘Derek!’

The name behind my predicament was the only thing my brain was screaming.

I shouldn’t have stopped at only one slap!

The soft sound of the priest clearing his throat brought me back from my reverie and I blinked rapidly to return to focus.

‘Derek is the past.’

‘This is your future.’

‘This is not the time, Hera.’

‘It is just a kiss.’

I had almost succeeded in convincing myself when I felt a hand below my chin forcing me  to focus on the man before me, my eyes wide but this time, for completely different reasons.

His touch was nothing I had expected. It was not as cold as he looks nor was it as hot as I felt. His skin was barely touching mine yet even with the veil between our skin, his warmth still seeped in, teasing, almost like a gentle breeze lulling one to sleep.

I swallowed, my eyes watering for a reason I couldn’t explain.

The pain and shame I had been trying to contain finally enveloped me and for the first time today, I allowed myself to wallow in my predicament.

My shoulders sagged, my head dropped along with it and my eyes focused on the plush gold Persian carpet adorning the floor.

I held my tears refusing to allow it fall, I shouldn’t break just yet, I couldn’t.

In my peripheral vision, I saw his feet, clad in an expensive black Italian shoe take a step closer to mine and my breath hitched but I couldn’t look up at him, not with my teary eyes.

His hand was still against my chin but this time, I could barely feel it as I tried to collect myself.

Soon enough, I felt his presence loom in, his perfume seeping into my nostrils and despite myself I couldn’t help but admire the scent. Not too strong, yet not subtle, just enough to make you want to take in another sniff.

His hold on my chin felt stronger and I realized he was trying to lift my head. Quickly, I blinked, multiple times trying to push the tears away and as soon as  my blurred vision cleared out, I raised my head, maybe a little too fast and without much thought because once I did, I realized we were only a few inches apart.

He had bent his head to attain my height and now we were standing at eye level, breathing each other’s air and maybe even hearing my heartbeat.

I panicked but couldn’t move, the hall was silent and I could only imagine their breaths were also caught in their throats just like mine was.

My eyes wide, I searched his and unlike all the times I had searched his eyes throughout the event, I realized I could see a glimpse of something new. It wasn’t just the specks of gold I had  just discovered due to the close proximity, it was like this time he had opened up a little bit only for me to see and what I saw in there made my heart soften…. a bit.

His dark eyes pulled me in and the specks of gold made me want to look further. I had never realized black could be beautiful and addictive and soft.

Soft?

His eyes had never looked soft, not to anybody who had seen them.

I searched his face looking for a clue to ascertain or debunk what I thought but because of his mask the only thing left to my view were his lips , red, full and anything but helpful. His sharp jaws accentuated by his side buns remained still, no movement whatsoever.

Just when I thought it was my hallucination, his index finger tapped my chin softly making me look at his hand and then back at his eyes and then I realized…

He was seeking permission!

Like a gentleman and not the tyrant his reputation describes, he was giving me a choice. My heart picked up its race as my mind began to argue with itself.

Asking for permission is a plus but was he asking because he knew the answer anyways?

I couldn’t decline him, he knew that, was he mocking me by giving me a choice when in reality he knew I didn’t have one?

What if I declined?

Would he not kiss me?

Would he be able to take the embarrassment?

Or will I be digging my own grave?

My eyes met his one more time and I made my decision. I took a deep breath as I made to give my answer.

I was already risking it all, why not go all the  way