Chapter 2: The substitute Bride

NYRA’S POV

I sat motionless in the bridal chamber that should have belonged to Arabella. Servants moved around me in a blur of silk and frantic hands. They slipped the heavy red gown over my shoulders, fastened the corset ropes at my back, and arranged the long veil over my face. I said nothing. I had not spoken a single word since my parents made their demand.

My mind remained trapped in that phone call. Kieran’s calm voice still echoed in my ears. The way he said he loved her. The relief in his tone when he chose my sister over me. Everything inside me felt hollow, as if someone had scooped out my heart and left only a cold space behind.

Mother adjusted the veil again, her fingers trembling. “You must keep your head down. Do not speak unless he asks you a direct question. Arabella’s voice is brighter than yours. He might notice the difference, just try to pretend to be her till the ceremony is over.”

Father stood near the door, checking his watch every few seconds. “Walk slowly. Smile if he looks at you, but not too much. Remember, this is about duty. You must protect this pack from his wrath. Nothing else should be on your mind tonight.”

They dressed me like a doll. The gown hugged my frame perfectly, its hem embroidered with golden threads that caught the lantern light. A delicate crown of moonflowers rested on my head. I stared at my reflection in the tall mirror and barely recognized the woman who stared back. She looked like a bride, but I felt like a ghost.

Arabella always created the disaster and I always cleaned it up. The pattern had followed us since childhood. This time the mess threatened to destroy our entire family.

A soft knock sounded at the door. The butler stepped inside and bowed. “My Lordship, My Lady, the ceremony begins in five minutes. The guests have gathered. And Alpha King Valerian is waiting at the altar.”

Mother took my hands and squeezed them hard. “You have to do this, Nyra. Our lives depend on it. If Valerian learns the truth before the bond forms, he will tear this pack apart.”

I finally found my voice. It came out small and rough. “What happens if he realizes I am not Arabella?”

Silence filled the room. Mother looked away. Father’s jaw tightened, but he offered no comfort.

“Then make sure he never finds out,” Father said coldly. “Make sure the ceremony goes smoothly without him knowing that you’re not her. Do not let us down, Nyra. Our lives are in your hands.”

The words landed like stones in my chest. They did not care what came after the ceremony. They only needed me to stand in her place long enough to save themselves. No one asked how I would survive a marriage to the most feared alpha alive.

I nodded once. What else could I do?

Father offered his arm. “It is time.”

We stepped out of the mansion and into the night. The blood moon hung heavy and red in the sky, bathing the sacred clearing in crimson light. Distant howls rose from the forest as we walked the stone path lined with torches. Guests sat in neat rows on either side, their eyes eager and curious. They had come to witness a union, not a sacrifice.

To me, this felt like a funeral. With every step, I buried my future deeper. My freedom died here. My quiet hopes with Kieran turned to ash. I mourned them silently while the moon watched.

Father’s grip on my arm stayed firm. “Stay calm,” he whispered. “Everything is fine. Act like your sister.”

But everything was not fine. My legs trembled beneath the heavy gown. The veil hid my face, yet I felt exposed. Ahead, at the end of the path, stood Alpha King Valerian.

He dominated the altar like a storm contained in flesh. Tall and broad-shouldered, he wore a black ceremonial robe trimmed with silver that matched the deadly calm in his posture. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and his sharp jaw looked carved from stone. Even from this distance I saw the power in him. The rumors had not lied. This man commanded respect through fear alone. His warriors stood behind him with lowered heads. No one met his gaze for long.

My stomach twisted. He did not look like a groom on his wedding night. He looked like a predator waiting to strike.

Father led me forward. My hands shook so badly I feared I might drop the small bouquet they had pressed into my fingers. Valerian’s presence grew heavier with every step. The air itself seemed thicker around him.

We reached the altar as Father placed my hand in Valerian’s. The moment our skin touched, a jolt ran through me. His hand felt large, warm, and unyielding. He said nothing and I kept my head lowered as instructed.

The High Priest began the ancient rite under the blood moon. Sacred flames flickered in stone bowls around us. He spoke of the Moon Goddess, of unity between packs, of blood and bond. I barely heard the words. My heart hammered so loudly I worried Valerian could hear it.

Valerian stood perfectly still beside me, too still. Then I felt it. He leaned slightly closer. He inhaled slowly, deliberately. His wolf was scenting me.

My entire body went rigid.

“Why do you smell different?” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous against my ear.

I could not answer. Panic flooded my veins. My parents had planned everything except this. Of course he would know. Wolves remembered scents. Arabella and I smelled nothing alike.

The High Priest continued, unaware. He took a small ritual blade and made a shallow cut on Valerian’s wrist, then moved toward mine. I flinched but did not pull away. Blood welled up. They pressed our wrists together, warmth mingled with warmth as the binding began.

Valerian’s grip tightened on my hand. He did not stop the ceremony, but something in his expression shifted. A flicker of confusion mixed with something darker, more possessive. His wolf clearly reacted to me in a way it never had to Arabella. I felt the intensity rolling off him in waves.

The priest wrapped a ceremonial ribbon around our joined hands and wrists. “Under the Blood Moon, do you, Alpha King Valerian, take this woman as your mate and Luna?”

“I do,” Valerian answered. His voice carried through the clearing like thunder wrapped in silk.

The priest turned to me. “And do you take this man as your mate and Alpha?”

My throat closed. For one terrible second I considered running. Then I thought of my parents, of the family that had taken me in when I had nothing. I swallowed hard.

“I do,” I whispered.

The priest raised his arms. “Under the Blood Moon, the bond is sealed. What the Goddess joins, let no one tear apart.”

Power surged through the ribbon and into our joined wrists. The blood moon flared brighter overhead. Gasps rose from the crowd as the sacred flames leaped higher. The bond clicked into place, ancient and irreversible.

We were married.

Valerian turned fully toward me. His free hand moved with deliberate speed. He caught my chin between strong fingers and tilted my face up. Not violently, but firmly enough that I could not resist.

“Lift the veil,” he commanded, though his hand had already moved to do it himself.

No, no, no, please no.

The delicate fabric slid away from my face. The cool night air touched my skin. I met his gaze for the first time.

Absolute silence fell over the clearing.

Valerian’s eyes, cold and piercing, widened slightly. Then his entire expression darkened like a storm rolling in. The air grew heavy with his growing fury.

“Who,” he said, his voice low and deadly, “is this?”