The aisle

Aria’s POV

“Aria.”

A warm hand touched my shoulder, gently shaking me.

“Aria, sweetheart, it’s time.”

I gasped and jolted upright, lungs dragging in air like I’d been drowning. The world tilted, blurred at the edges, voices echoing like they were bouncing off the inside of my skull.

“Try and relax,” the voice said again. “You’re just nervous. Every bride gets cold feet.”

Every bride? I turned my head, and froze at the sight before me.

My father stood before me, alive, whole and smiling.

His silver hair was neatly tied back, his suit sharp and pressed, that familiar little crescent moon pin glinting on his lapel. His eyes, kind and tired and full of pride, crinkled at the corners the way they always did when he looked at me like I was his whole world.

“Dad?” I whispered, barely able to get the word out.

He chuckled, “Who else were you expecting to walk you down the aisle, the Lycan King?” He teased me. 

My lips parted but nothing came out, I blinked once then twice. The silk of my wedding dress clung to my skin, soft and delicate. I could feel the weight of the veil pinned into my hair. 

This wasn’t right.

The last thing I remembered was blood, my blood. The pain I went through as I felt my stomach being cut open. My child. My death. So what was going on here? 

Why was my father still alive?

“Come now,” Dad said, reaching for my arm. “They’re all waiting. I finally have the honor of walking my little Princess down the aisle. Don’t make me cry in front of the whole pack.”

My body moved before my mind could process it, like muscle memory was stronger than my confusion. I slipped my hand into his, rising on shaky legs, my heart thundering.

The doors opened ahead, spilling golden light into the hallway. Music swelled. I saw the crowd rise to their feet in the distance, blurred shapes and colors.

But my legs stopped moving when I saw her.

“Elara?” I whispered to myself.

She was walking toward me from the altar, beaming. Dressed in deep burgundy, the color of chief bridesmaids in the northern packs. Her hair was curled the way I always said I loved.

She looked radiant, innocent.

Like she hadn’t carved into my body while I begged for my child’s life.

“Oh my Goddess,” she laughed, looping her arm through mine. “You’re shaking. Darren’s gonna think you bailed.”

My breath caught, that name, Darren? What was actually going on?

“What’s wrong?” she asked, frowning a little. “You’re pale. Did something happen?”

I stared at her, the scream rising in my throat, but I choked it back. Everyone stared at us, but I didn’t understand a thing that was going on. 

I didn’t know where I was. What this was.

A dream?

A hallucination?

Was I in the afterlife, perhaps being punished?

“Elara,” I said slowly, “what day is it?”

She laughed again. “your wedding day, obviously. You hit your head on the rock or something?” She asked, looking at my dad and they both laughed. 

The world tilted again as I turned toward the altar And there he was.

Darren, standing tall in black and silver ceremonial robes. His hair slicked back. Smiling that smile, the one I used to believe was only for me. He looked like a fairytale prince, like the man I once trusted with my soul.

Like he hadn’t ripped it out of my chest.

My knees buckled, My father held me upright, whispering something I couldn’t hear over the pounding in my ears.

And then everything began to make sense.

The Moon Goddess answered me.

She heard my prayer, she sent me back to take my revenge.

I had just been reborn six years back, to my wedding day with Darren.

To the very day I married the man who would kill me and his unborn child. 

To the moment I made the biggest mistake of my life.

And this time—

I would take my revenge and make them wish that they were never born. 

I walked the aisle like a ghost in white. The crowd stood in awe, unaware that the woman they were watching was no longer the naive girl they once knew. I was something else now. Something sharpened by betrayal and reborn through agony.

When my father placed my hand in his, Darren leaned close and whispered, “You look… divine, my love.” His voice brushed my ear like a caress, and I had to fight the urge to recoil.

I looked him dead in the eye.

And felt nothing.

No love.

No pain.

Only rage.

The priest began to speak, his voice deep and ceremonial. 

"We are gathered here today under the light of the Goddess to witness the sacred union of—"

He was saying, but I barely heard him.

I was thinking of the night they strapped me to that chair.

Of the taste of poison on my tongue.

more so, I was thinking about the right time to act. Darren took both my hands, beaming like the perfect groom. He squeezed gently.

"Aria," he whispered, "breathe. I’ve got you."

You had me. And you destroyed me.

“Do you, Darren, take Aria of the Crescent Bloodline to be your bonded mate—”

He answered too quickly. “I do.”

“Do you, Aria—”

“No.”

The word cracked like thunder in the silent hall.

Everyone froze.

The priest stammered. “I—I beg your pardon?”

I took a step back, yanking my hands from Darren’s grasp. “I said no. I don't want to marry such a man.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd like wildfire. Darren’s smile faltered, his eyes searching mine in disbelief.

“Aria,” he said softly, too softly, “I know you’re nervous. We can talk about this later, let’s just—”

My palm met his cheek with a force that echoed through the marble walls as I landed a hot slap on his cheek. His head snapped to the side and everyone went silent. 

“How dare you try to touch me after everything you did to me!” I fumed. 

Darren’s face twisted into something dark and furious. “What are you talking about, Aria?” He asked, his voice rising. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re —”

He lunged to grab my arm, but a hand had seized his wrist mid-air.

It wasn’t my father’s.

It wasn’t a guard.

It was Eros, The Lycan King.

Every inch of the temple seemed to still in his presence, everyone bowed to him — including my father. The air shifted, denser and wilder.

He stood taller than Darren, broader, wrapped in a long black cloak lined with wolf fur. Eyes like silver fire burned beneath his hood. Everyone in the northern kingdoms feared him, and he rarely appeared in public. 

But now… he was at my wedding? 

And his hand was on Darren’s?

What was he even doing here?

“Enough,” the Lycan King growled, his voice low, lethal, like thunder rumbling over distant mountains.

Darren looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Y-Your Grace… I—I didn’t—she—”

“How dare you try to touch her like that,” Eros raged seriously, like that was all the explanation the world needed.

He looked at me, not at my dress. Not at my trembling hands or tear-streaked face.

At my face.

And for a split second, I forgot everything as something flickered in his gaze. Recognition? 

Then my wolf whispered to me, “mate.”