The Primary Bride

Arianna's POV

I stood frozen in the middle of the chamber, unable to process everything that had just happened.

Before I could gather my thoughts, the King rose from his throne, his towering presence immediately silenced the whispers spreading through the chamber.

"Arianna of the Lunarcrest Pack."

I forced myself to meet his gaze.

"You will not be returning to the Lunarcrest Pack,” the King said, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. 

My heart skipped a beat.

Not... returning?

The King continued as though we were discussing the weather.

"The palace will become your residence effective immediately."

Effective immediately?

"Your personal affairs will be handled by the Crown,” he continued. "Your belongings will be retrieved. Servants will be assigned to you, and suitable chambers have already been prepared."

Prepared?

They had already decided everything before asking whether I agreed? Did my opinion not matter at all? 

“Helena,” the King called, dismissing me like I didn’t matter. 

Lady Helena stepped forward.

"Your Majesty."

"Take her to her chambers and explain the terms."

“Yes, Your Highness,” she bowed. 

At the King's command, the court was dismissed, and the throne room began to empty.

My gaze drifted toward the prince. As if aware of my gaze, he slowly lifted his head. 

Though his sightless eyes revealed nothing, I felt an icy certainty settle over me.

Somehow…

He knew I was there.

Then he turned away, disappearing into the private corridor without another word. 

"Follow me, Lady Arianna," Lady Helena commanded smoothly.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and followed her out of the throne room into the soaring corridors of the inner palace.

As we walked, my eyes instinctively mapped our surroundings. I counted four armored guards stationed at the eastern archway. The windows were too narrow, the drop to the courtyard stone was too far.

The eastern corridor is useless. I need another route.

I glanced sideways and found Helena watching me. Her gaze shifted from my face to the window latch, then back again. Her posture stiffened, though her expression remained completely unreadable.

"Lady Helena," I said, keeping my voice level. "What does being the 'Primary Bride' actually mean for me?"

Helena did not slow her pace, her heels continued clicking against the polished floor. "It means the Crown has chosen you. Your duty is to bear the royal heir."

She stopped outside a set of massive gilded doors, turning to face me.

"Your position is fragile," Helena explained, her tone devoid of emotion. "There are only two ways to lose your place. First, the night of the ceremony, you will undergo the Royal Compatibility Rite. Today proved his wolf will tolerate your scent in the throne room, but the rite determines whether it will tolerate you when his control is weakest. If his wolf rejects you, your selection ends."

My stomach churned. One moment of submission meant nothing. Tomorrow, it might kill me.

"Second," Helena continued, "you have ninety days—three lunar cycles—to conceive a healthy royal heir. If you fail within that window, another candidate will replace you."

She pushed open the double doors to reveal a lavish suite.

"Starting tomorrow at dawn," Helena added, stepping into the room, "you will report directly to the Crown Prince's private chambers to assist the royal physicians."

I blinked, taken aback. "Assist them? In doing what?"

Helena regarded me.

"The royal physicians will explain your duties," she said. "You're the only woman his wolf didn't try to kill."

Before I could ask anything more, Helena stepped back into the corridor and took hold of the heavy gilded handle.

"Rest, Lady Arianna. The royal tailors will arrive shortly to fit your wedding dress. Do not attempt to wander. The guards outside have strict orders to keep you within these walls."

The heavy door shut behind Helena, and the lock turned with a heavy, final thud.

I stood alone in the center of the opulent room.

I didn't ask what happened to failed brides. I had a feeling no one would ever speak of them again.

Crossing over to the high arched window, I looked down at the courtyard far below. Armored guards paced the perimeter wall, their black steel glinting in the dying sunlight.

There were no negotiations here. I wasn't a bride. I was a womb with a deadline.

My thoughts drifted back to my pack's damp cellar, to my mother's feverish face as she coughed into a bloodstained cloth.

Beta Craig’s words before I was dragged into the royal carriage rushed back at me. 

You will do whatever the royal family demands, and you will become the surrogate bride. Win or watch your mother die.

I had no reason to trust him. But trapped inside these stone walls, his threat was the only thing keeping my mother alive.

I had to stay.

Three days until the wedding.

Tomorrow morning, I would walk into the Crown Prince's private chambers.