Chapter six; Wedding dinner.

Ivorie didn't know where to go in this magnificent maze of a castle. She just followed Regan anywhere he went.

Both of them were greeted by a bunch of nobles. Ivorie, who didn't know them or how to address them, only smiled and said “thank you,” to them.

One question was bothering her mind now that no one came their way to greet them anymore. Where would she sleep? Was she going to be given a room of her own or were they going to share one? She hoped it wasn't the latter and even doubted it since Regan had said it himself; their marriage was just a political move.

But Regan didn't say anything as she just followed him up the stairs. She didn't pay attention to the guards that were with them.

Soon, they arrived in front of the door. Regan faced her.

“This is..our room.” He said with pursed lips.

Ivorie raised a brow, “Our?” and asked.

Folding his arms, cocking his head at her, “You're no more in your father's castle to get a room to yourself. Not that there aren't enough here, but we're married!” He said in a very unfriendly manner, making Ivorie wince.

‘Don’t be rude to our mate!’ Boris, his wolf reprimanded him. His gaze on her softened against his will.

“You can have the room if you're not comfortable sharing,” he said, pursing his lips to suppress the harsh words he wanted to spill.

Ivorie's brows raised, “But, what about you?” she asked, concern etched in her tone.

It sent an irritating mix of disgust and love into him. He didn't want this, he didn't want this. He tried to remind himself that she was just for his wolf, he didn't accept her as his own mate.

‘Then why don't you reject her?’ that irritating voice asked at the back of his mind. It wasn't his wolf, just his conscience. He didn't know the answer to that question.

“Don't worry about me.” He said conclusively. But Ivorie couldn't allow it, just because of her, he wouldn't receive comfort in his castle.

“We can share the room, I don't feel uncomfortable with that.” she said, biting the inside of her cheek at that lie. She definitely wanted him anywhere away from her.

Regan's eyes narrowed before he slowly nodded his head.

He moved aside as a guard opened the door. He saw a smile spreading to her lips and wanted to fall at the sight of that.

‘Keep it together, beast!’ he growled at Boris. The wolf’s emotions were driving him insane.

He fought himself to tear his gaze away from her sumptuous ass swaying as she walked in. Desire welled up in him as he imagined various things in a second. Things he could do to that ass of hers. He wondered about the feeling of it squashed against his palms.

Shaking his head along with those thoughts, he discovered his member had hardened down there.

“Shit.” He muttered. If he doesn't find a way to shut Boris out of his mind, he’d get out of control.

“That's the closet, if you need to change for the wedding dinner.” He told his wife.

Ivorie nodded. She wondered why he was nice to her. True, she didn't know him before, but what she had heard and read about him contradicted what he was now.

She shut the thought from her mind and walked into the large closet.

Regan sighed deeply as he laid down on his bed. Watching the ceiling, a train of thoughts about his wife filled his head.

“How is she not able to sense our mate bond?” As much as he hated them to be mates, he couldn't deny how hurt his wolf was that she didn't sense the bond. It felt like a connective thread that didn't have the second end to connect to.

He tried to find comfort in Estan's words to have patience as the bond may kick in soon.

He heard the door opening and knew she was done. He sat up and looked at her.

His heart raced immediately his eyes landed on her. She was dressed in a white long gown, with red pattern designs on the front. Although, it didn't reveal what she wore underneath nor did it hug her body firmly, it didn't hide her attractive features too, especially her proud bosoms. Regan could feel his pole rising again as a wave of lust flushed him. He felt the urge to have her in his arms, to feel her warm body on his.

She truly looked like an angel with that lengthy white hair of hers. ‘Where did she even get such hair?’ Regan thought. If he remembered carefully, her father had black hair while her mother had deep brown hair.

Ivorie's cheeks flushed bright red when Regan wouldn't turn his gaze away from her. She tried to look away as she fiddled with her fingers nervously. His mere gaze stirred up strange feelings in her stomach.

Regan noticed he was making her feel uncomfortable so he turned away abruptly and pushed Boris' emotions away.

Clearing his throat, he said, “Let's go.”

Upon arriving at the dining hall, Ivorie saw that it was already filled with people.

Regan sat down at the end of the long table, the rest of the officials and court members stood while he did so. They didn't sit down until Ivorie also took her seat on the right of Regan. Estan was seated by the left.

Ivorie could feel eyes on her and she looked round the table to catch the Duchess glaring at her squarely. A lump of saliva found its way down her throat.

“Alright, let the feast begin.” Regan declared in a bored tone and immediately, several maids rushed in with dishes and pots, filling the long table with them.

The feast began in earnest with talks and laughs from the men and giggles from the women.

“Luna, I’ve been meaning to ask, has your hair always been this colour?” Jenna asked all of a sudden. Ivorie's brows raised as her heart skipped a beat. She slowly raised her head to look at the Duchess.

“I mean, I met Alpha Johan and Luna Ivy at the wedding, none of them have the same hair colour as you do.” She said, smiling. Ivorie became speechless as she felt gazes land on her.