My Father In Law.

~Nyra

“What’s your name, please?” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them, soft, desperate, hungry. “How can I find you?”

I needed him again. Already. I wanted more. I wanted to hunt him down and ride him until neither of us could walk.

“Alpha…”

The word rumbled from his chest, low and amused, but before he could finish, ice cold water slammed onto my face.

I jolted awake gasping, choking, sheets tangled around my legs, heart pounding like I’d been running for my life.

My father stood over the bed, empty bucket still dripping in his hand, eyes blazing pure murder. He looked like he had been there an hour trying to bring me alive.

The dream shattered.

“How the hell did I get back here?” I muttered, wiping water from my eyes. Last thing I remembered was staggering out of that club, legs barely working. Lira must have dragged me home.

“You’ve slept all fucking day,” Father snarled, voice shaking with rage. “And it's just hours left until your wedding bell starts jingling, and you come back stinking of some stranger’s cum? The alpha's heir bride fucking around with some stranger? Are you out of your mind, Nyra?”

He leaned in closer, nostrils flaring, trying to pull the scent apart.

“Does he know your face? Who is he? Give me a name and I’ll eliminate him before sunrise, no one must know of what happened.”

I almost smiled.

I almost laughed out loud.

Because even I, the girl he’d fucked senseless, the one who’d screamed Daddy while he ruined me didn’t know his name.

I swallowed it down, wiped my face with the back of my hand, and sat up.

“Dad, I’m okay,” I said, voice steadier than I felt.

“Okay?” He barked a bitter laugh and pointed across the room.

I followed his finger.

The entire floor was buried in white.

Gowns. Veils. Lace. Silk. Heels glittering like weapons. Jewelry boxes open, diamonds spilling out like blood money.

All of it waiting for me to choose.

My stomach twisted.

I glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

3:56 AM.

The wedding started at 8.

Four hours.

Four hours until I walked down an aisle toward a man I’d never spoken to, wearing white like some pure little bride.

I’d slept over a full day. Normally just a step into my room while sleeping gets me awake, but my dad had to splash water on me to bring me back into the world.

One night with that stranger and my body had betrayed me, shut down, left me weak and dreaming of him.

Father watched me, waiting for shame, for tears.

He got none.

I threw the soaked sheet aside, stood naked and unashamed, water dripping down my marked skin.

“Pass me a towel I need to bath,” I said, voice cold, calm.

“Then let’s get me dressed.”

Because the mission was still on.

The wedding was still happening.

But now I had a new hunger burning under the duty.

I would stand at that altar.

I would marry the son.

And I would find the man who’d made me scream Daddy.

I would find him.

And next time, I wouldn’t let him walk away without telling me who he is. Whether a demon, or a god because I'm sure he's not just an ordinary wolf.

When I finished bathing, the maids descended on me, their fingers quick and reverent, smoothing oils into my skin.

They lifted a gown, I almost opened my mouth to compliment the beautiful dress.

I stepped into it barefoot.

The gown slid up my thighs, over my hips, whispering over the faint bruises he’d left nights ago, marks I’d refused to heal.

I wanted them. I wanted the ache, the pleasure I got in those short minutes.

When the gown settled over my breasts, the neckline dipped low, barely hiding the shadows at my throat.

Good.

My hair was pinned into loose waves, dark strands slipping free to frame my face. My lips were painted a deep, dangerous crimson. My eyes were lined sharp enough to draw blood.

I looked like sin dressed as innocence.

Beautiful enough to stop hearts.

Dangerous enough to start wars.

My father waited outside the chamber, arms crossed, fury carved into every line of him. But when I stepped through the doorway, even he faltered, just for a heartbeat.

His gaze softened before the mask slammed back into place.

“You look…” He cleared his throat. “Gorgeous.”

I smiled slowly, “Thank you, Father.”

The walk to the great hall stretched endlessly before me. I walked on a red carpet.

Wolves lined the way, heads bowed, eyes lowered except for the maids who stole glances and murmured about how beautiful I look.

I felt their gazes like hands on me.

Music welcomed me as the doors opened, soft strings and low drums that pulsed deep in my bones.

Every seat was filled. Hundreds of wolves. Alphas from allied packs. Warriors. Elders.

And at the end of the long white aisle stood the groom.

Tall. Lean. Boyishly handsome in his black suit. Pale hair neatly combed. A nervous smile tugging at his lips, awe wide in his eyes as he looked at me.

Pretty.

Polite.

Weak.

Nothing like the storm I hungered for. Well, it wasn't a long term marriage, I just have to kill his father and get the hell out of here.

“Let the bride step forward,” the priest called, his voice carrying through the hall.

My father’s hand closed around my wrist before I could move. Not a touch, an iron grip.

“Do not forget why you’re here,” he murmured without looking at me, lips barely moving. “You are not marrying for love. You are walking toward a target. Every vow you speak is a lie meant to keep you close enough to kill the Alpha. Understand?”

I met his gaze, unflinching.

“I know exactly what’s at stake,” I said quietly. “My pack. My home. You. My own life.” I paused, then added, “I wouldn’t trade any of it for sentiment.”

His mouth curved into a thin, satisfied smile.

“Good.”

He released me.

I stepped forward.

One step. Then another.

The hall seemed to breathe with me as I walked up the aisle, silk whispering against the floor, eyes burning into my back. I did not look left or right. I did not falter.

When I reached the altar, the groom turned fully toward me. His hands trembled slightly.

The priest raised his hands.

“We gather under pack law and ancient witness,” he intoned, “to bind these two in union.”

He turned to the groom first. “Do you vow loyalty to this woman before the pack, to protect her, to stand beside her as mate and wife?”

“I do,” the groom said quickly, voice tight with nerves.

The priest turned to me.

“Do you vow loyalty to this man, to honor him before the pack, to stand beside him as mate and husband?”

“I do,” I replied smoothly.

“Do you accept the bond placed upon you,” the priest continued, “until death or law breaks it?”

“I accept,” the groom said.

“I accept,” I echoed.

The priest nodded once, satisfied.

“By these spoken vows, the bond is declared,” he said. Then his gaze sharpened, voice lowering, ritual giving way to command. “But understand these words alone does not complete a marriage.”

A hush fell over the hall.

“The final rite is tonight,” the priest said. “The first night shared flesh to flesh. The joining that seals what has been spoken here.”

“The union must be consummated,” he finished. “Only then is the bond made whole.”

A murmur rippled through the wolves.

I lifted my chin, eyes fixed forward.

Tonight, then.

Let the last vow come after dark.

“Did I miss the fun?”

That familiar voice, thick, rough, dripping with dark honey slid down my spine like a slow, deliberate touch. My head snapped toward the main doors.

There he was.

The man who’d bent me over a bar and made me see stars while I faced the floor. The one who’d dragged heaven from my body without sending me to the grave.

He strode in wearing a heavy brown fur cloak that brushed the floor, broad shoulders filling the doorway, a simple iron crown resting on his dark hair like it had been forged for him alone.

Alpha Knox.

My father-in-law.

The enemy I was sent here to kill.

My breath caught so sharply the groom glanced at me, confused.

I searched the crowd for my Father, desperate for confirmation, for some sign that this was the childhood friend he mourned betraying.

I didn’t see Knox close the distance.

One moment he was at the doors, the next he stood before us.

The groom nudged me gently. Bow, the nudge said.

I dipped my head, heart hammering.

“Can I see your face… my daughter in law?” His voice was soft now, almost tender, laced with amusement only I could taste.

Slowly, I lifted my chin.

His eyes met mine, that slow, wicked smile spread across his lips. The same smile he’d worn when I’d whispered Daddy against his skin.

He knew.

Of course he knew it was me.

He extended a small velvet box, wrapped in silver ribbon. “A gift,” he said, voice low enough to feel like a secret between us. “For my new daughter.”

I took it with trembling fingers.

He caught my hand before I could pull away, turned it palm down, and brushed his lips across it.

A single kiss, and I was wet.

Shamefully, instantly wet.

I wanted to drop the box, grab his fur, drag him somewhere dark and demand the only gift I truly craved.

Instead I stood frozen, bride perfect, while the man I was supposed to murder welcomed me into his family.

Tonight I will share a bed with his son.

But every beat of my heart whispered the truth.

I'm married to the son, but wet for the father.

If Alpha Knox was under the same roof, I wouldn’t be spending my wedding night with just my husband.

I’d be praying the walls were thick enough to hide who I really called Daddy.