Chapter Two : The Stranger at Nine O’Clock

Elara's pov 

By eight forty-five the next morning, I was standing outside the courthouse with a marriage address in one hand and the remains of my common sense in the other.

Mother had shoved the paper at me over breakfast. “Do not keep Gerald waiting,” she had said. “Men with money have options.”

Apparently daughters without wolves did not.

I read the address again, although the stone building in front of me matched it perfectly. I could still turn around. Nora would let me sleep on her floor for a few nights, and after that I could find work outside Voss territory if I was lucky.

Then Derek’s voice returned with humiliating clarity. People already talk about you. I folded the paper and put it in my bag.

A man sat on the bench beside the courthouse steps. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves pushed to his forearms and dark jeans, and he had none of the expensive display Mother admired.

No watch glittered on his wrist. No driver hovered nearby. He was younger than Gerald was supposed to be by decades.

He stood when I approached. “You’re here for the nine o’clock appointment?” His voice was low and controlled, the sort that made a simple question sound as though he expected an accurate answer.

“I am.”

His gray eyes rested on my face, then on the paper in my hand. “You came alone?”

“My mother believes supervision is only necessary when I might escape.”

One of his eyebrows rose.

I regretted the sentence immediately. “That was a joke.”

“It wasn’t a very cheerful one.”

“I’ve had a difficult morning.”

“It’s not nine yet.”

I almost laughed, which annoyed me because nothing about the situation deserved laughter. “You must be the optimistic one in this marriage.”

He studied me for another moment. “Kai.”

“Elara.”

“Are you certain you want to go inside, Elara?”

The question caught me off guard. Mother had asked whether I understood what Gerald was offering. Derek had asked whether I expected love to build a future. Nobody had asked whether I wanted to marry the man waiting for me.

“You’re asking that now?”

“I’d rather ask before the paperwork.”

“What happens if I say no?”

“You leave.”

“And you would let me?”

His attention became colder. “I don’t keep people who want to leave.”

I looked toward the courthouse doors.

Maybe Mother had lied about Gerald’s age because she knew I would refuse.

“I’m going inside.”

Kai opened the door for me. The registrar was already waiting in a small office with a stack of documents arranged across his desk. He glanced at Kai first and became noticeably more formal.

“Mr. Draven. We can begin as soon as—” He stopped when he saw me. “And you are?”

“Elara Gates.”

The registrar looked down at the papers, then toward Kai.

Kai pulled out the chair beside him. “Is there a problem?”

“I’ll need to amend the bride’s information.”

“That was expected.”

I glanced at him. “It was?”

“The original paperwork was prepared before today.”

Mother had probably supplied Gerald with half my life before telling me his surname. I sat down and gave the registrar my identification.

He typed for several minutes, printed fresh pages, and placed them in front of us.

“This is a civil marriage registration. I need both parties to confirm that they understand the legal effect of the document and are entering voluntarily.”

Kai reached for the pen, then stopped. “Ask her first.”

The registrar turned to me. “Miss Gates, are you entering this marriage of your own free will?”

The answer should have been easy. Mother was not in the room. Derek was probably waking beside Vivienne. The stranger next to me had already told me I could leave.

My freedom had finally arrived wearing the worst possible disguise. “I understand what I’m doing,” I said. “I’m choosing to sign.”

Kai’s gaze remained on me. “You can still change your mind,” he said.

“If you keep giving me exits, I’m going to start wondering whether you’re trying to get rid of me before we’re married.”

“I prefer contracts entered by people who intend to honor them.”

“Then give me the pen.”

He did. My hand trembled when I wrote Elara Gates on the first line. I steadied it against the desk before signing the second.

Kai signed after me. His handwriting was clean.

The registrar collected the pages. “I need two minutes to process the certificate.”

When he left, I looked at the man I had apparently agreed to marry.

“You don’t talk much.”

“I talk when there’s something worth saying.”

“That sounds exhausting for everyone around you.”

“It saves time.”

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it, and the unfamiliar sound embarrassed me more than tears would have.

Kai watched me. “Difficult morning?”

“Difficult several years.”

“You don’t have to explain.”

That should have made it easier to keep quiet.

Instead I asked, “Why are you doing this?”

“Marriage?”

“With a stranger.”

His fingers rested beside the unsigned copy of the agreement. “It solves a problem.”

“That is deeply romantic.”

“I wasn’t aware romance was part of the arrangement.”

“Apparently we agree on something.”

The registrar returned carrying a stamped certificate.

He set one copy in front of me and another in front of Kai, then explained where our records would be filed. I heard perhaps half of it.

Mrs. Draven, that's my name now.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Draven.” The registrar closed the file. “Your marriage is legally registered as of nine twelve this morning.”

Kai looked down at my certificate. His eyes stopped on one line.

“What?” I asked.

He took the paper from my hand and read it again. “Your mother’s name is Margot Gates?”

I stared at him. “Of course it is.”

“Who were you told you were meeting here?”

The first cold thread of doubt moved through me. “My future husband.”

“What was his name?”

I had never said it because I had assumed the answer was sitting beside me. “Gerald Whitmore.”

Kai set the certificate on the desk with careful precision. For several seconds, I could only look at him. He said nothing.

“What the hell is going on?” I asked.

“I’m not Gerald Whitmore.”