[ELARA]
Outside my chambers, I can hear the loud beating of drums and the occasional whistle of a flute. I’ve seen over half a dozen human bards and female dryads that have been invited over to entertain the royal company.
When I scurry over to take a look from the window, I can see what seems like half the continent gathered in the courtyard of Mistral Hollow’s packhouse. Over the last few days, I’ve seen my father glued to Alpha Zander’s side. He has been making sure that the wedding ceremony is a grand success—leaving no stone unturned to appeal to the King of Caelondor.
But the previous morning, a raven arrived from the royal palace, informing us the King would be absent from the ceremony. He’s at war with the kingdom of Wyvern, and has been for several weeks now. The disappointment on my father’s face upon hearing the news was contagious. And moreover, the invitations can not be withdrawn.
Nobody seems to care about the Prince. Even though he is the most important person in the gathering. Not once have I heard anyone speak about his comfort, his wishes, his requirements. He’s a stranger to them as much as he’s to me. And he’s unwelcome.
I stand before the mirror now, adorned in a jade bridal gown. It was picked by my stepmother, Celeste. For all the hatred she bears me, I’m surprised at how wonderful her choice is—a color that matches my eyes. Perhaps it is meant to be a mockery of my situation. Dressing me up in precious fabrics just to give me over to a ruthless, ugly man.
A maid brushes the locks of my blonde hair until it shimmers golden in the sunlight. She tugs a choker on my neck, embedded with a rare emerald and beaded with pearls. She fastens golden bracelets around my wrists before painting my lips with the rose extract and dubbing jasmine perfume on several parts of my body.
I think of Alec when I look at my reflection. “You’re magnificent, El,” he’d say before kissing me like there’s no tomorrow. He never failed to woo me with his words and actions.
Now, I’m going to become someone else's. This is my life from this day on.
“Aren’t you a sight to behold, dear sister?” comes Alina’s voice from behind me. I turn on my heels, gasping when I see her standing on her feet—healthy and perfectly fine. She’s draped in a silver robe, her mahogany hair weighing down her shoulders in elaborate curls. She reaches the fruit basket on the table, picking up a cherry before she continues, her voice smooth, “She’s marvelous, Maa. Magnus would love her.”
“Magnus can have her,” says Celeste, grinning evilly at me. “And you, my Alina, can find someone handsome for yourself. Perhaps, another Prince.”
“For now, Alpha Zander is quite enamored by me. I prefer it stays that way,” Alina reveals.
All the air escapes my lungs. For a moment I can’t breathe. I don’t believe what I’m seeing. It barely takes me a few seconds to register what has conspired here… I’ve been tricked. I’ve been betrayed. By someone I have loved so much.
“Alina… how are you here…? What is all this?” I say, my voice muffled with shock. I clutch my neck, fury clawing at my insides. “I tended to you. I stayed by your bed. And all this time… it was just an act!” My voice booms across the chamber.
Bowing low, the omega maid withdraws, getting the cue.
Alina pops the cherry into her mouth and spits out the seed carelessly at my feet. “It’s crazy what a lowly enchantress can do for a few obsidian dimes,” she reveals. “But I assure you, all that vomit was real. That mage truly wrecked my stomach.”
I take an angry step towards her, holding her prisoner in my tear-filled gaze. Celeste takes a protective stance, holding out her arm in front of her daughter. I mumble, “How could you do this to me, Alina?”
Alina’s face twists as if she tasted something bitter. “What do you mean? You were alright with seeing me married off to that wretched beast?”
I shake my head in disbelief. “You knew I had a mate! You knew how much I loved Alec!”
Alina scoffs at me. “Alec? Maa, will you tell her or should I?” she whispers wickedly, turning her siren eyes to Celeste.
Celeste flicks off an invisible speck of dust from the sleeve of her gown before she regards me with a cool gaze. She begins, “Alec will be by your side. In Caelondor, yes. He will be on your trail wherever you go. How? Well, he’s to be a part of your personal guard. Alpha Zander chose him for you.”
Lila wails within me, her pain reverberating through my veins. “No!” I shout. “I won’t tolerate this. When I tell the Alpha the truth, he’ll make sure justice is served. He won’t let me marry Prince Magnus.”
Celeste lets out a whiny laugh. “Foolish girl. He procured the witch,” she tells me, and I feel the land disappear from beneath my feet.
____
The front of my face is covered with a green veil before I’m made to walk down the altar. My father holds my trembling hand as he guides me to the other side. I can’t meet his eyes, afraid that I’ll find a hint of guilt in his eyes too. And if I discover that he is involved in this treachery too, I will not be able to bear it.
At the end of the altar stands Prince Magnus, his figure a mere silhouette through the veil at this distance. On either side of me stand some people that I’ve known all my life, while the rest are dignitaries, ministers, diplomats, representatives of other independent territories and the bards and dryads and leprechauns. I don’t think there are any humans or halflings among us. Alpha Zander can’t tolerate them. He simply won’t allow their presence.
Everyone is looking at me and I sense the pity and sympathy in their gazes. It makes me want to flee, but I can’t.
As I get closer, I spot Alec, standing with firm shoulders and looking straight ahead—presumably at nothing. I can’t read his thoughts anymore, but I hear Lila mumble, “I miss him.”
I expect to feel nothing, given that the mate bond is severed, but when his gaze flickers to me, my heart breaks all over again. I stumble on my path and I’m saved from the disgrace of falling face forward in front of so many people as Alec rushes forward and reaches out his arm to keep me from falling.
Alec’s touch sends a stream of misery through me, but he subtly shakes his head at me—reminding me of the place we’re at and the situation we’re in. I realize in that moment that his rejection was not a result of his doubt about my affection, but rather his loyalty to his pack and his duty.
My father tugs at my arm, urging me to carry on, and I tear my gaze from Alec. Prince Magnus’ monstrous figure now comes to my notice. I halt for a moment, my throat drying up as I take in the face of my betrothed—the man who’s about to become my husband.
His face is a ghastly mess, marred by scars. One runs from the top of his left eye to the start of his lip across his nose. There’s another gash that begins in his ear and ends at the base of his neck. It likely continues down his torso, but I don’t know because that’s where his robe covers his skin. The unscarred part of his face is covered with scales. A part of his lip is swollen and I don’t want to know if it is about to burst open and release any fluid.
“Come on, my love,” my father says, but there’s uncertainty in his voice. Of course, he knows what I’m thinking. How can he let me be married to this man?
There’s no hair on his head. Magnus has a stout where he should have a hand on his left arm. His right foot is humungous, the size of his torso, and he’s holding it as if it hurts.
I gulp, biting back a sob.
He finally turns his head to look at me and I see his eyes—they’re golden and breathtaking. They’re almost perfect.
But he’s not a man. He looks like a monster. And I could have loved him someday, perhaps, if I was unaware of his unforgivable sins. He has committed heinous deeds. And now I know why Alina did not want to marry him. No one would want to be married to him.
He’s a freak.
Save for his golden eyes. They are deceiving and they speak to me. It’s unnerving and I can’t explain it. But his eyes tell me it’s a lie. That all I’m seeing is a deception.
Sighing, I keep walking until I’m standing right in front of him. Behind him stands his Beta, as is mandatory for all Alpha weddings. When I look at the Beta werewolf, he turns his gaze away, and I’m robbed of even the chance of asking a question.
'He's not disabled,' Lila echoes in my mind.
For the next several moments, the Soulbinder between us mutters familiar marriage vows, but I hear nothing. I can only look at Magnus’s eyes. From the way he's staring back at me, I can tell that he’s amused. He’s no longer holding his leg.
“Something’s not right,” I hear myself whisper, and his scaled eyebrow rises in response.
The Soulbinder takes my hand and places it in Magnus’ good hand before he says, “Elara Wildewood of Lunar Crest Pack and Magnus Blackwell of Thunderclaw Tribe, I now pronounce you as husband and wife. You may kiss your husband.”
The crowd cheers, but it’s still dull.
My gaze involuntarily darts into the crowd, finding Alina smirking wildly. Hastily, I take a step forward to cover the distance, my hand still placed in his. I blink before I say, “This is a deception.”
“So it is,” Magnus replies, and his voice is honey. It does not match his figure.
I reluctantly press my lips against his scaled cheek, and gasp when the skin there begins to bubble. And then it melts, disappearing into a puff of smoke.
More gasps and squeals arise from the spectators—people rush forward only to step back. Others watch, repulsed as the scene unfolds. Magnus’ monstrous body transforms. The Beta has no reaction to his and Magnus himself seems to be smiling through the shifting folds of his face.
Alec is by my side and I watch his perplexed face.
“What’s happening, El?” he asks me, panic filled in his voice.
But I stay glued to my feet. “I don’t know,” I say, my voice strangely composed. I hold my breath and wait until the transformation ends.
The crowd lets out a collective gasp.
In front of me stands a tall, handsome man with a chiseled jaw and golden eyes. His dark hair cascades in curls to his shoulders. His legs are the same size now. His left hand is whole, the scales subsiding to reveal a smooth face.
He’s breathtakingly beautiful. And he’s my husband.
Magnus regards the shocked crowd with a broad grin before he turns his attention to me. He easily lifts my hand and presses a lingering kiss on the back of it before he says in the same honeyed voice, “Hello, wife.”
[ELARA]What does this mean for his claim on the throne? The thought strikes so sharply, it suffocates me momentarily, making me breathless. All these months of scheming, of planning, of preparation, and gathering allies. Of charming men and women alike. Of building an army against Eldric. If he were to find out the truth…If at all, there’s any truth to this. I draw in a sharp breath, urging myself to come up with something, anything to comfort Magnus, to tell him we’ll find out, or that it doesn’t matter, or whatever it is he needs right now. But before I can, we hear footsteps.Prince Rasmus strides in, radiant in emerald and gold, immediately commanding attention with his presence. And behind him is his bride. Princess Daphne Elspeth of Wyvern. Resplendent in scarlet silk and sunlit rubies, her long copper hair tied into a thick braid that rests on her front. A thought flits across my mind, but I don’t know if it’s mine or Magnus’s or both.I once believed Daphne would marry M
[ELARA]When my eyes open, I find myself curled into Magnus’s side, my cheek nestled against the warm stretch of his bicep. It takes only a heartbeat for the memory to return—and when it does, it’s not a rush or a shock. It’s a quiet, glowing bloom in my chest. Last night. His body against mine. His mouth. His hands. His voice in my ear. His skin against mine. A flush spreads across my body even under the morning chill that creeps in through the tall arch window across the room. But it’s not just the memory of how he touched me that makes me all warm and fuzzy—it’s what it meant. What it changed.Because something’s different now. Not just in my body or my heart. In my mind. There’s another presence there now. Magnus.Our mate bond, fully formed at last, hums low and comforting beneath my thoughts. I feel him. I feel us.I lift my gaze slowly to look at him, careful not to wake him just yet. He’s still fast asleep, face relaxed in the pale morning light. There’s a tiny crease betw
[MAGNUS]She’s brave. Braver than I’ll ever be.Brave for putting my head in her lap when I needed to feel something other than the chaos and fear that flooded my heart. For brushing her fingers through my hair like I’m someone worth touching. And for kissing me, like she knew that it was exactly the thing I was silently begging for. And I’m a drunk enough that my heart feels easy. Just enough that I can let this happen without falling apart too soon. Because if I were sober, I’d be gone the moment she looked at me like that. I’d be on my knees the second she whispered my name.We tried this once—we attempted to strip the layers down and reach for each other with no shields, no weapons between us. That night ended in a Familiar’s scream. In the kind of terror that makes you never want to need again.But tonight… she doesn't run. And neither do I.I sit up slowly, fingers still tangled in the blanket between us, and she doesn’t pull away when I reach for her. Her mouth is parted sligh
[ELARA]The ink on the parchment has long dried, and although some words are smudged, Lady Brook’s handwriting remains neatly scrawled on it. I didn’t see her again after she stepped out of the bathing chamber. When I asked Mala, she shrugged and said Lady Brook had found a Qaivenien lady to annoy. I did not ask for more details. Instead, I climbed onto the wide sill of the arched window, curling my knees to my chest. From here, the town looks like a toy kingdom. The closer buildings are neat and square, golden-lit windows blinking through the haze. But the farther ones—those barely visible clusters in the dark—they look like ants. No sign of the dense woods. Just a few sparse trees scattered like thoughts someone forgot to finish.I stayed there a while, forehead pressed to the cool stone. Then I returned to the bed and found the parchment resting neatly atop the folded coverlet. I nibble on a blueberry from the basket as I read, its sweetness staining the inside of my cheek. I tr
[ELARA]The golden-eyed man finally decides to introduce himself as he guides us inside the palace. In his own words—Lord Clarence Dashwood, a friend and most loyal confidant of Prince Rasmus.The eeriness of his gaze has not settled yet entirely, but the palace has more to distract us from it. The courtyard stretches open before us, a temporary dome of cloth strung high above like a painted sky. The fabric ripples faintly with the breeze and depicts sprawling scenes—ships arriving on foreign shores, flames devouring the old and birthing the new, kings kneeling before thrones carved from coral and salt. Qaiven’s history, I suppose. It reminds me of the painted ceiling of the Council Room back in Caelondor. I only ever saw it once. That ceiling with its blank spaces—empty patches of wall waiting to be filled with victories and shame alike. What have they painted over now, I wonder? Since we left.Below the dome, courtiers in sea-colored silks and jewel-toned velvets laugh and raise t
[ELARA]I wait for more, but my heart’s already pounding a little too loud in my chest, my mind racing with thoughts. ‘A storm awaits us in the capital. A familiar one, but stronger this time,’ Lila speaks in a riddle, one I don’t feel inclined to solve at the moment. This was unexpected. How do we even move forward after this?But then I glance at Magnus, and he looks… fairly composed. “Why aren’t you… angry?” I ask, trying to read him through the faint hum of the mate bond. “Or surprised?”“I think I’m still trying to understand how to respond to this,” he says softly. “But mostly, I expected it.”His eyes track the distant dark outline of the waterline. “He needed an heir. And eventually, he was always going to turn to his own seed. We just didn’t think he’d pick a bastard.” A breath. “By naming him… he’s made the lines clear. There’s the exiled prince—me. And there’s the king who rules with iron and ash.”His golden eyes return to my face, gleaming with something fierce. “It c