Chapter six

Aria's pov

As time went on, the once unbreakable bond between us began to fray, like threads unraveling from a worn tapestry. The magnetic pull I once felt from Xavier was diminishing, growing fainter with each passing moment. I could sense the distance between us expanding, an invisible chasm filled with silence and unshared thoughts. It became painfully clear that I was losing him, and with every fleeting connection, a piece of my heart felt left behind.

I allowed Tristan to lead me into the building, since it was our damn wedding, I feel like strangling him at that moment. 

I looked up at his face, a smug smile stretching across his features, and an uncomfortable twist settled in my stomach. With a heavy sigh, I gathered my courage, clutching the delicate fabric of my gown, and strode forward with an air of majesty, my head bowed in an effort to shield my vulnerability.

“Wow, she looks stunning,” someone in the crowd breathed, their admiration almost palpable.

Yet, almost instantly, another voice cut through the moment like a knife: “I heard she’s just a weak Omega. I can only imagine how useless she feels.” 

My fist clenched tightly at the biting comment, my eyes darting around to scrutinize the women positioned around us, their expressions betraying a mixture of honor and disdain. The weight of their judgment hung heavily in the air, amplifying my discomfort in that moment of perceived celebration.

“Don’t pay them any mind, my love. I adore you even with your flaws,” Tristan’s voice cut through the tension, snapping me away from my thoughts. I suddenly realized how tightly I was gripping his hand, my knuckles pale from the strain.

“Don’t you dare call me ‘love,’” I shot back, my teeth clenched in anger as I glared at him. The fire simmering within me made it hard to breathe.

We finally reached the altar, where five elders, cloaked in flowing blue robes and adorned with white scarves, stood in a semi-circle, their expressions solemn. The eldest among them approached with deliberate steps, his presence heavy with authority and expectation.

“My children, face each other for the bonding,” he commanded, his voice resonating through the air like a distant thundercloud.

A weak chuckle escaped me, the absurdity of the moment washing over me. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t even stand him, so why in the world would I face him? Lowering my gaze to the ground, I felt the weight of the situation pressing down on me.

“Ah! She has the audacity to reject the elders’ wishes,” a voice murmured from the crowd, dripping with disdain. 

“Stupid girl,” another jeered, the words echoing harshly in the stillness.

“Respect your elders and turn to me, Aria. I don't want to repeat myself, or else!” 

I faced Tristan, scowling, my eyes ablaze with a fierce annoyance that threatened to spill over. “Or else what?” I shot back, my voice barely above a whisper but laced with venom, each word dripping with defiance. Tristan's grip on my hand tightened painfully, his fingers digging into my skin like iron clamps.

“Don't text me, Aria,” he warned, his tone steady and unnerving, eyes glinting with a warning that sent prickles down my spine.

I arched an eyebrow, my lips curling into a sardonic sneer that was all too familiar to us both. “Oh, Tristan, I’m positively trembling in fear at your threat,” I replied, laden with sarcasm, my voice slicing through the tension like a knife.

The elder cleared his throat deliberately, his piercing gaze narrowing at our standoff, as if sensing the tension crackling in the air between us. “My children, please, let us proceed with the ritual. Face each other and join hands.”

With a reluctant sigh, I rolled my eyes, but Tristan's firm grip enveloped my hand, pulling me forward. I stumbled slightly, the sharp clicks of my heels echoing against the cold, stone floor, before I found myself standing directly in front of him, our chests almost touching. The heat radiating from his body was unnerving, and I stubbornly fixated my gaze on his chest, refusing to meet his eyes.

He chuckled softly, his warm breath grazing my skin, sending an unwelcome chill across my arms. “Ah, aria, you're so childish,” he whispered, his voice smooth and intoxicating, yet it sent shivers down my spine, but not in a good way.

The elder began to recite the words of the ritual, his voice steady and monotone, echoing through the courtyard. “By the power of the full moon, we bind these two souls together in matrimony. May their bond grow stronger with each passing day.”

I snorted derisively, unable to repress my frustration. “You mean, may Tristan's control over me grow stronger,” I muttered under my breath, my words dripping with disdain.

Tristan’s grip on my hand tightened, his fingers pressing down so hard that they bruised my skin. I didn’t flinch; I didn’t even blink. Instead, I glared up at him, willing him to say something—anything—to break the tension.

The elder continued, blissfully unaware of the charged exchange unfolding before him. “May their love and loyalty to each other be unbreakable as the mountains and as endless as the rivers.”

I let out a sharp, cold laugh, a sound devoid of warmth or mirth. “Love? Loyalty? You mean, may Tristan's ownership of me be forever sealed,” I declared, my voice rising enough to carry across the gathered crowd, the weight of my words hanging in the damp air, challenging the very nature of the vows being spoken.

Gasps echoed through the dimly lit chamber, followed by a chorus of whispers and murmurs that danced in the air like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind. Tristan’s expression darkened, his fierce eyes flashing with a smoldering anger. “Aria, shut up,” he hissed, his voice a low and menacing growl that sent a chill through those gathered.

The elder, a man of considerable stature with a fierce countenance, felt his face flush crimson with rage, his eyes blazing with indignation. “Enough!” he bellowed, his voice reverberating off the stone walls and resonating like thunder in the tense atmosphere.

 “You will show respect for the ritual and to your mate!” His words carried the weight of authority, leaving no room for dissent as the gravity of the moment settled heavily upon the attendees.

I allowed a smirk to curl at the corners of my lips, my gaze fixed intently on Tristan’s face, searching for any flicker of emotion in his steely demeanor.

 “Or what? Are you going to punish me? Lock me away in the dungeon?” I leaned in slightly, my voice thick with sarcasm as I continued, “Newsflash: Tristan is already doing that—by dragging me away from my true mate and the freedom I crave.” The words spilled from my lips like venom, each syllable infused with defiance and unfiltered resentment.

I watched his face turn white with rage, his eyes flashing with duty. He raised his hand, and I flinched, expecting a slap. But instead, he grabbed my chin, fus fingers digging into my skin. “You will pay for this, aria,” he whispered, his voice cold and menacing. 

The elder's voice droned on monotonously, a background hum that faded into the periphery of my consciousness. My attention was locked onto Tristan's face, where anger and unbridled hatred simmered like molten lava, threatening to erupt. That was all I wanted to see—the raw intensity of his emotions. I allowed a cold, calculated smile to curl my lips. Bring it on, puppy; I’m ready for whatever you’ve got.

As the ritual came to a close, a flicker of hope sparked within me, a desperate wish for my true mate to come to my rescue. But deep down, I knew better—the kind of saving grace I sought only existed in fairytales. Suddenly, Tristan's grip tightened around my wrist, yanking me toward him with a force that startled me. My heart raced as I stumbled, the sharp clicks of my heels echoing in the empty room, mere moments before I found myself thrust against his hard chest. 

His arms encircled me, holding me impossibly close, like a vise that I couldn’t break free from. I thrashed against his hold, but he was unyielding, his strength overpowering. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, mingling with the tension in the air, and for a moment, the fight inside me flickered like a dying flame.

"You're mine now, Aria," he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine as it brushed against my ear. "Forever and always."

I instinctively recoiled, a wave of revulsion washing over me. The words echoed in my mind, each syllable heavy with an unsettling finality. "Forever and always" felt less like a promise and more like a binding sentence, conjuring visions of an unending torment that I could hardly bear to imagine.

It’s been two excruciating hours since Aria sabotaged my wedding, turning what should have been a joyous occasion into a public spectacle that left me humiliated in front of my guests. Now, as the after-party drags on, an unsettling tension hangs in the air.

“Alpha Tristan, congratulations,” a voice hollers, breaking through my cloud of frustration. It belongs to one of my business partners, a lanky man with a scruffy beard and fair skin. His height makes him loom over me, but his presence is anything but commanding—just another reminder of the farcical event I’ve just endured. I begrudgingly ignore his outstretched hand, refusing to engage in a handshake that carries no weight or meaning for me right now.

“Thank you, you can leave now,” I growl, my voice ringing sharply through the crowded room as all eyes snap in our direction. The laughter and chatter momentarily cease, replaced by an uncomfortable silence that feels heavy with my disdain.

“What?!” I bark, my frustration boiling over as I glare at the onlookers, daring them to question my outburst.

I hurriedly made my way to the balcony, feeling the cool metal railing under my palms as I leaned forward, gazing down the winding staircase that led to the ground below. A soft brush against my skin caught my attention, sending a shiver down my spine. Confused, I hesitated for a moment before quickly turning around. To my surprise, it was my father standing just behind me.

I lowered my eyes, a wave of melancholy washing over me as I took in the familiar features of his weathered face, etched with years of wisdom and concern.

“Dad, that…” I began, the words trailing off as I struggled to articulate the tumult of feelings within me.

“Shush, son, it’s okay,” he said gently, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You have her now.” His voice was steady, an anchor in the midst of my turmoil, offering me a fragile sense of comfort.

Leaning back against the cool, metal rail, I allowed a smile to spread across my face as his words washed over me, wrapping around my thoughts like a warm embrace. “You have her now,” he said, his voice filled with an unspoken understanding.

“You're such an inspirational dad,” I replied, my grin widening as a sense of determination surged within me. I knew exactly what to do with my little puppet, the one I’d meticulously crafted to play her part . She would be mine, and every ounce of disgrace she had inflicted upon me would be repaid tenfold.

I turned my attention back to him, searching his face for a flicker of dissent, but he remained silent, a  figure who stood resolutely by my side without uttering a word of disagreement. His calm demeanor only fueled the fire of my resolve, and I could almost taste the sweet satisfaction of retribution lingering on the horizon.

I approached him deliberately, my fingertips brushing against his arm as I glided past, leaving a in his thoughts My heart raced with the thrill of uncertainty, knowing he would be left in a state of wonder,