The Coldest Vow

The corset was so tight Giovanni could barely get a full breath of air. She stared at herself in the mirror, the white lace mocking her. Today was the day she became a Van-Doren. Today, she became the Luna to the most powerful Alpha in the Northern territories.

She should have been glowing. Instead, she was shaking.

"Hold still, Giovanni. You’re acting like a pup in a trap." Yvette’s voice was like ice water down her spine. Her aunt pulled the laces tighter, ignoring Giovanni’s sharp gasp.

"I’m just... I’m nervous, Yvette. Russell hasn't spoken to me in a week. Not since the engagement dinner."

Yvette stepped back, checking her reflection instead of looking at her niece. "He’s an Alpha. He’s busy running an empire and a pack. He doesn't have time to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. You’re lucky he chose you at all."

"I know," Giovanni whispered, trying to believe it. "I just want him to love me. Is that too much to ask?"

Yvette stopped, a strange, dark look crossing her face before she masked it with a smirk. "Love is for movies, Gio. In this world, we settle for respect and survival. Now, put your veil on. The Alpha is waiting."

The walk down the aisle felt like a fever dream. The cathedral was packed with hundreds of wolves, their gazes heavy and calculating. At the end of the long stretch of marble stood Russell.

He looked like handsome. His black suit was tailored to his massive, lethal frame. His dark hair was slicked back, highlighting a face that was as beautiful as it was terrifying. His grey eyes were fixed on her, but they weren't the eyes of a groom. They were the eyes of a predator watching a piece of meat.

When her father handed her over, Russell didn't even look at him. He didn't offer a smile or a reassuring squeeze. He simply grabbed her hand. His grip was so hard her bones creaked.

"You’re trembling," he rumbled. His voice was a low, vibrational growl that made her inner wolf want to roll over and submit.

"I’m just happy," she lied, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

Russell’s lip curled in something that wasn't quite a smile. "Happy. Right."

The ceremony was a blur of ancient pack vows. When it came time for the bonding, the air in the church grew thick with the scent of pine and blood.

"With this mark, I claim you," Russell said, his voice echoing through the silent hall.

He didn't wait for her consent. He leaned down, his hand wrapping around the back of her neck like a vice. He didn't kiss her. He bit. His canines pierced the sensitive skin of her shoulder, marking her as his. Giovanni let out a sharp cry, her knees buckling, but he held her upright, his strength overwhelming.

He pulled back, a drop of her blood staining his bottom lip. He looked satisfied, but his eyes remained as cold as a winter grave.

"Mine," he whispered, but it didn't sound like a promise. It sounded like a threat.

The reception was a nightmare of fake smiles and stiff poses. Russell spent the entire time huddled with Rector and Declan, discussing "stock projections" and "pack boundaries." He didn't bring her a drink. He didn't ask her to dance. He treated her like a piece of luggage he’d dropped at the head table.

"You look like you’re waiting for an execution, not a honeymoon," a voice drawled next to her.

Giovanni looked up. Xavier, Russell’s younger brother, was leaning against the table, a glass of dark liquor in his hand. He was just as handsome as Russell, but his eyes were full of a dangerous, mocking light.

"He’s just busy, Xavier," Giovanni said, her voice defensive.

"Busy. Sure." Xavier leaned in closer, his scent of smoke and cedar clouding her judgment. "He’s been 'busy' planning this for a long time, Gio. Just tell me one thing... do you really think you can handle being the Alpha’s favorite pet?"

"I’m his wife. His Luna."

Xavier laughed, a sharp, barking sound. "Is that what they told you? God, you’re even more naive than you look. It’s almost a shame."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Xavier."

The name was a growl that cut through the music. Russell stood behind them, his aura so oppressive the people at the neighboring tables actually backed away.

Xavier didn't look intimidated. He just raised his glass. "Just Congratulating the bride, brother. She’s... exquisite. A real prize."

"She’s my prize," Russell snapped. "Go find your own."

Xavier smirked, his eyes lingering on Giovanni’s neck before he walked away. Russell didn't look at her. He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into the lace of her sleeve.

"We’re leaving," he commanded.

"But the party isn't over—"

"I said we’re leaving, Giovanni."

He dragged her through the crowd, barely giving her time to say goodbye to anyone. They were ushered into a black SUV, the silence inside the car even more suffocating than the church.

When they arrived at his private estate—a massive, sprawling fortress of glass and black stone—Russell didn't wait for the driver to open her door. He hauled her out himself.

He marched her up the stairs and into the master suite. He threw her into the room, the heavy doors slamming shut behind them.

Giovanni turned, her heart racing. "Russell, what’s wrong? Why are you so angry?"

He began unbuttoning his vest, his movements slow and deliberate. He looked like he was stripping for a fight, not a wedding night.

"I’m not angry," he said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "I’m focused."

"On what?"

He walked toward her, and for the first time, Giovanni felt her wolf howl in warning. She backed up until her heels hit the edge of the massive bed.

"On the reason you’re here," he said. He reached out, his hand wrapping around her throat—not to choke her, but to force her to look at him. "Do you have any idea what you’re worth to me, Giovanni?"

"I... I love you, Russell. I’ll be the best Luna I can—"

"I don't need a Luna," he interrupted, his face inches from hers. His breath smelled of expensive bourbon. "I need an heir. A strong, Alpha-blooded heir to secure my legacy against my brother and the council."

"And we’ll have one," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears of relief. "We’ll have a family."

Russell let out a dark, chilling chuckle. He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, but there was no heat, only ice.

"You don't get it, do you? You’re not a queen, Giovanni. You’re a vessel. And tonight, I’m going to fill you."

He shoved her back onto the bed, his weight following her down instantly. He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, his eyes flashing that terrifying, predatory gold.

"Wait," she gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Russell, please, let’s just slow down..."

"The clock is already ticking," he growled, his hand ripping the delicate lace of her wedding dress down the middle.

As the silk tore, the bedroom door creaked open.

Giovanni’s eyes widened. Standing in the doorway was Yvette, holding a tray with a long, silver needle and a vial of clear liquid.

"The Alpha is ready for the first injection, Russell," Yvette said, her voice devoid of any emotion.

Giovanni froze, her blood turning to lead. "Injection? What... what are you talking about? Yvette?"

Russell didn't even look back at her aunt. He kept his eyes locked on Giovanni’s terrified face, a cruel smirk finally touching his lips.

"It’s time to start the cycle, Giovanni," Russell whispered.