“The Recognition”

CHAPTER THREE

Charlotte's POV

- - - - -

I could barely breathe. My heart was racing, pounding so loudly it drowned everything else out. I didn’t move, I just lowered my head quickly, hoping that if I stayed still, maybe they wouldn’t even notice that I wasn’t the real bride.

The sound of footsteps grew clearer, and a group of maids entered, their chatter soft and hurried. Behind them came a woman I’d never seen before. She was middle-aged and wore a green silk dress.

She bowed down to greet me and said in a gentle tone. Your Highness, you’re running late. Your mother has sent me to fetch you for the ceremony.”

What?!

They think I’m the bride?

Oh my God, what am I gonna do?

I opened my mouth, ready to explain the whole situation, but before I could say a word, she was already at my side. Her hands moved quickly, adjusting the sleeves and smoothing out the veil. 

The confidence I had to speak up just vanished. I became scared. The words were there, but they wouldn’t come out. My brain was screaming, Tell her. Say something. But nothing left my lips.

I wanted to tell the truth. I did. But I just stood there, terrified. Quietly praying that this wouldn’t spiral into something worse.

Then she paused and looked at me with a slight frown, like she was finally noticing how stiff and awkward I had been acting. But instead of asking questions, she simply sighed.

“You must be nervous,” she muttered. “Everyone gets like this on their wedding day.” She spoke to me in a calm, almost gentle tone, so different from the rush of moments before.

“ You just have to calm down Your Highness, it will be over in a few hours.” She said with a smile. 

I nodded slowly, barely daring to blink. Nervous? That was one word for it. Terrified felt more accurate. She didn’t even notice I wasn’t the real bride. Not even the maids. It was like no one in the room knew what the bride looked like. 

Was that even possible? 

She gave the veil one last adjustment, smoothing it gently before finally looking up. Her voice softened. “Your Highness, shall we be on our way?”

Her words made me more frightened than before. My mouth opened slightly, then closed again. I couldn’t bring myself to speak, so I just nodded instead. The seamstress gave me one last look, then straightened up and turned to the maids.

“Girls, pick up the flowers and mind her Highness’s train.”

They moved quickly, their hands practiced and sure as they lifted the heavy train of the gown behind me. I stood stiffly, barely breathing, my fingers buried in the fabric like it could somehow ground me.

This was happening fast.

How did I go from admiring a dress, to being walked out of the queen's room as the bride whom I'm supposed to be attending her wedding.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my face calm, trying not to let the panic rise any higher. As I stepped out of the queen’s chambers, the weight of everything hit me all at once.

I just needed a moment. A chance to explain, to run, to breathe. One second away from this, away from these maids and the seamstress, from whatever this was turning into. But the palace was crawling with guards and servants everywhere I turned.

There was no way out. And I was trapped in the middle of a nightmare I created.

I stood in front of the large hall door as it opened before me. I began walking on the aisle surrounded by a sea of werewolves. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst through my chest. 

Applause erupted, echoing through the massive hall as the guests rose to their feet. Every eye in the room was on me—the glowing bride.

Cheers, howls, and words of blessing filled the air like music, echoing off the golden walls of the royal wedding hall. To them, I must’ve looked graceful, composed, exactly what they were expecting.

But inside… I was crumbling.

My legs didn’t even feel like mine anymore. I kept walking, but it was as if my body was moving on its own. Each step felt heavier than the last, like the weight of the lie was dragging me down.

By the time I reached the altar, my face still hidden beneath the veil, my breath was shallow. Too shallow. I couldn’t get air past the panic tightening my chest.

I wasn’t supposed to be here.

Not in this dress. Not even among the crowd, let alone standing at the altar of the most anticipated royal wedding of the year. Sweat clung to my skin beneath the silk gloves, my palms damp and trembling. This couldn’t be real. 

But it was.

I was about to marry the Lycan King.

 - - -

Alpha Damien Blackwood stood tall and still. His face was unreadable but very handsome, I wondered if he was real. I have never seen a man look this good. His eyes—dark and sharp held me in place. They were locked on me with a kind of intensity that made my skin prickle.

I couldn’t bring myself to raise my head completely. Instead, I lowered my head to avoid being caught. There was a weight to his stare, like he wasn’t just looking at me, but like he was searching for something. It made my heart race and my throat tighten. I felt exposed, as if the truth clung to me like a stain only he could see.

I couldn’t take this anymore. I can’t go through this. I have to tell the truth. As I stood at the altar, I held the veil in front of my face ready to remove it and come clean. But a strong but gentle hand grabbed mine. 

“Proceed,” the king said to the priest, his voice calm and steady.

Wait… what?

I froze.

My head shot up, and I looked at him.

His face showed nothing. He wasn’t even looking at me, he was looking at the crowd. And when his eyes finally turned to me, I quickly looked away. 

I couldn’t meet his gaze. I was scared. I had no idea what kind of man he was. But one thing was clear,

I was in serious trouble.

The priest stepped forward and placed a heavy cloak over my shoulders. Purple and gold, I barely noticed it. My throat was tight, and I was too busy trying not to panic.

“Alpha Damien,” the priest’s deep voice pulled me back to the moment.

“Do you take Princess Olivia as your lawfully wedded bride, to love and respect her until the day you die?”

“Yes,” Damien said.

His voice was low and steady, strong in a way that made the entire hall go quiet.

Then came the part I had been dreading.

“And do you, Princess Olivia, take Alpha Damien as your wedded mate and husband, in hardship and happiness, in loyalty and strength, until death shall part you?”

Silence.