Chapter 1: Wedding Night

“We found someone you’re going to marry.”

My mother said it without looking at me. Her attention remained on the papers spread across her desk.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

People in the clan thought I was lucky. I was Ruelle Holt, the only daughter of the Estia Clan’s leader. I had grown up surrounded by wealth, protected behind guarded gates, and given anything money could buy.

Anything except a family that loved me.

I couldn’t remember the last time either of my parents had held me. I wasn’t sure they ever had. Praise was even rarer, and affection simply didn’t exist in our home.

To them, I had never really been a daughter.

I was something they had to keep against their will, and now they had finally found a way to get rid of me.

“We initially approached the Ashcrofts about their eldest son,” my mother continued. “But they were more cautious than I expected. They rejected the proposal and offered their second son instead.”

My stomach tightened.

The Ashcrofts controlled the nearest werewolf territory to ours. Only the border forests separated the Blackthorn Pack’s land from Estia’s lands.

I had rarely been allowed outside the Holt estate, but that didn’t mean I knew nothing about the world beyond its gates. Since I spent most of my life alone, listening to people talk easily became a pastime. The household staff talked freely when they thought no one important was nearby, and I had overheard more than enough stories about the Ashcroft family.

Especially their second son.

Pierce Ashcroft.

Some said he had a violent temper. Others claimed he was cruel, unpredictable, and so difficult that even his own relatives avoided crossing him.

The stories changed depending on who was telling them, but they always ended the same way.

Pierce Ashcroft was not a man anyone wanted as an enemy.

And now I was expected to become his wife.

Shouldn’t he look for his fated mate? I get that fated mates were rare among werewolves, but he could have picked a she-wolf as his chosen mate instead. The Ashcrofts had something to gain in this alliance, of course, but I didn’t expect someone like Pierce Ashcroft would tolerate such an arrangement.

“At first, I found their offer insulting,” my mother said, giving a quiet scoff. “The second son, instead of the eldest. As if we should be grateful for whatever they’re willing to spare.”

She finally looked up from the documents and crossed her arms.

“But after looking into him, I realized Pierce isn’t such a poor choice. His mother came from one of the founding bloodlines, and through her family, he has close ties to the Alpha King. He might not be first in line to inherit the Blackthorn Pack, but circumstances change.”

“M-Mom…”

She raised one eyebrow.

I nearly lost my nerve. “I’ve heard things about him.”

The warning in her expression appeared before I could say anything more.

“Are you planning to refuse?”

Her voice turned sharp enough to make me flinch.

“Ruelle, you’re already receiving far more than you deserve.”

She rose from her chair and studied me with open contempt.

“He may be the second son, but he is still an Ashcroft. That name carries more influence than most ruling families could ever hope to possess. If Pierce were truly worthless, his family would have cast him aside years ago.”

She stepped around the desk.

“Instead, he remains one of the strongest werewolves in their bloodline.”

Her gaze moved over me slowly, as though searching for yet another flaw.

“So don’t embarrass yourself by pretending you have a choice.”

A bitter laugh escaped her.

“You are the most useless person in this family. You should be grateful that anyone is willing to marry you at all.”

Heat gathered behind my eyes. I lowered my head before she could see the tears forming there.

There was no point in arguing.

No one in that house had ever cared what I wanted. They weren’t going to start simply because the decision involved the rest of my life.

The wedding came together faster than I had expected. Everything were so hard to process, and the next thing I knew, I was walking in the aisle of petals, toward my groom.

Or more like my doom.

My wedding was held beneath a full moon in the gardens of the Holt estate.

White roses bordered the aisle, their petals scattered across a burgundy carpet. Lanterns swayed from the branches overhead, filling the gardens with a soft golden glow. Behind the rows of guests, the estate loomed against the dark sky, every window lit for the occasion.

It was beautiful. I could admit that much.

It also felt as though I were walking toward my own execution.

My father escorted me down the aisle with my hand tucked around his arm. He never once looked in my direction.

Pearls had been pinned through my ginger-red hair, though most of it had been left loose beneath my veil. The curls brushed against my back with every step. A thinner piece of fabric covered the lower half of my face, embroidered along the edges with the Holt family crest. Only my blue eyes were visible.

Every head turned as I passed.

Most of the people gathered in the gardens had never seen me before. For twenty years, my parents had kept me hidden inside the estate while allowing stories about me to spread throughout Estia’s lands.

Ruelle Holt, the chosen heir. The blessed daughter of Veyra. The witch who would one day become more powerful than any leader our clan had known.

Now they were finally being allowed to look at me, only to watch their so-called princess be handed over to a werewolf.

Above us, the moon shone bright and silver.

The Ashcrofts had asked for the ceremony to be held at night, since the full moon was important to their pack. My parents had no complains. They would have agreed to almost anything for the alliance with the Blackthorn pack.

I kept my eyes on the arch at the end of the aisle, but the guests were impossible to ignore. Some smiled as I passed. Others watched with open curiosity.

Most of them pitied me.

Only days earlier, my parents had announced that I had lost my powers.

They had not told anyone that there had been no powers to lose.

My fingers tightened around the stems of my bouquet. And then I finally looked at the man waiting for me.

Pierce Ashcroft stood beneath an arch woven from white roses and dark, twisting branches.

My heart struck painfully against my ribs.

I had dreaded this moment ever since my mother told me I was going to marry him. In the weeks since, I had dreamed of blood on white sheets, claws dragging across my skin, and gold eyes staring at me from the darkness.

I had never met Pierce before tonight.

I had heard enough about him to fear him anyway.

He was the second son of the family that ruled the Blackthorn Pack, the werewolves who controlled Crescent City, the biggest werewolf territory in the continent. His father was still the Alpha, and everyone expected Pierce’s eldest brother to inherit the title.

But that did not make him harmless.

Terrible stories about him had reached even the closed halls of the Holt estate. I had no idea how much of it was true.

The moment I saw him, I decided most of it probably was.

He wore a black suit that stretched across his broad shoulders, paired with a white shirt left open at the collar. A silver wolf pin rested on one lapel, the only visible mark of his family’s position.

He looked less like a man waiting for his bride and more like someone who had shown up to observe a funeral.

Perhaps he had.

His dark hair had been pushed away from his face without much care. A few strands had already fallen across his forehead. He was undeniably handsome, but not in a way that made me feel safe. His face was too sharp, his expression too unreadable.

Then I met his eyes.

Amber, bright beneath the moonlight and fixed entirely on me.

As I came closer, his gaze moved over me. He studied the veil hiding my face, the stiff line of my shoulders, and finally the bouquet trembling between my hands.

He was assessing me.

Perhaps he was wondering why his family had agreed to take a powerless witch as part of the alliance. Perhaps he was disappointed that they had chosen me for him.

I understood the feeling.

My father brought me to a stop beneath the arch.

For one foolish second, I waited for him to say something. A word of comfort would have been enough. Even a warning would have proved that some part of him remembered I was his daughter and not merely the final piece of a bargain.

He said nothing. He only lifted my hand from his arm and placed it in Pierce’s. 

Pierce’s fingers closed around mine and heat rushed up my arm.

Werewolves ran warmer than witches, but his skin felt almost feverish. His grip was firm without being painful, leaving me no chance to pull away unless I wanted every person in the gardens to see me try.

Pierce looked down at me.

He was taller than I had expected. Standing this close, he seemed to fill my entire field of vision, blocking out the guests, the lanterns, and the estate behind him.

His amber eyes searched mine through the veil and the corner of his mouth lifted.

He leaned toward me, close enough that his breath stirred the veil over my lips. “You look disappointed, princess.”

His voice was low, meant only for me.

My throat tightened.

I had not spoken to him. I had barely moved, yet he already sounded entertained by my discomfort.

This was the man I had been commanded to obey. The husband chosen to secure the future of Estia’s lands.

The beast my own family had delivered me to without a second thought.

As Pierce held my hand and watched me with those bright amber eyes, I understood one thing with perfect clarity.

Nothing I had heard about him had prepared me for the real man.