The Wedding Night

{Isla’s POV}

For one absurd second, I smiled at him.

I understand how that must have looked from his perspective, but there was nothing I could do. A part of me foolishly forgot that he wouldn’t recognize me as Isla. Or perhaps I remembered but didn’t care. I was standing next to my mate at the altar, getting married to him. If this wasn’t fate, then I don’t know what was.

His face did the opposite of mine. It curdled.

Disgust moved across it, then he glanced straight at Richard and Vanessa. His jaw tightened; then his gaze swept over me the way you’d look at food you disliked, and whatever hope I’d let myself hold on to for that one foolish second died instantly.

“I heard what kind of woman you are,” he said in a low tone. Nothing in his voice matched the man from that night. “Careless. Dishonest. Manipulative.”

Something in me wanted to tell him who I truly was, that it was me from that night. His mate. But I couldn’t.

 The hatred in his eyes wasn’t the hatred of a man who didn’t know me. He looked at me the same way people did, the same way my father did. 

In the blink of an eye, the celebration became a whirlwind of laughter and music. The celebration moved on without me; laughter and music I couldn’t quite feel. Moments later, I found myself slipping into a sleek car that whisked me away, heading straight to his estate. As we approached, anticipation built within me; this place was unlike anything I had ever encountered before…

The estate rose majestically against the skyline.

 A blend of elegance and luxury. Its grand façade featured sweeping arches and tall, ornate windows that sparkled in the fading light. Lush, manicured gardens surrounded the building, with pathways lined by vibrant flowers and intricate sculptures.

My room was larger than anything I’d ever slept in. Someone had scattered pale petals across the sheets and lit candles beside the bed. It reminded me of that night with him.

I don’t know why I still got ready for him.

Maybe it was foolishness. Maybe I wanted to take my chances. Or maybe it was the small hope that hadn’t run out, the part of me still wanting to hold his hands, his voice breaking against my throat, the part of me that wanted to start a family with him.

I told myself that when he finally arrived tonight, when we were finally alone with no family and no audience, I would finally tell him everything. My name. The mask. How Vanessa forced me into the dress. I would give him the truth and promise to never run like that again.

So, I bathed slowly. I let my hair fall the way I remembered him liking it. I put on a bright red lip that would probably fade the moment he reached my room. I sat on the enormous bed, and I waited.

An hour passed. I told myself he was delayed by pack business, or maybe something unavoidable. Another hour passed, and the excuses started sounding thinner even to me. When the third hour passed, the candles had burned low, and I let myself understand what was obvious from the start.

He wasn’t coming.

I didn’t cry, not the way I would have back at home. I told myself I would find him tomorrow, and nothing, absolutely nothing, would stop me from telling him the truth.

I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to a distant, familiar voice. It wasn’t Axel; it sounded like a woman. So, I followed it to where the sound led me. Then, I saw Vanessa; she had Axel cornered near the stairs, her hands gripping his sleeve like she’d forgotten the kind of man Axel was.

“She wouldn’t just leave,” Vanessa was saying. “Something definitely happened to her. I am sure it was Isla; she was always jealous of her. Cassandra would never abandon her own wedding; please, you have to find her.”

“I promise to do everything within my power to find her.” His tone left no room for delay.

He left without looking back at me once. I understood, watching him go, exactly what this meant. He still believed Cassandra was the woman, but why was Vanessa involving herself? Why couldn’t she just let me have this one thing?

The moment he left and the coast was clear, Vanessa stopped crying, and the moment our eyes met, she smirked at me. I honestly hoped Cassandra would die wherever she was.

I returned to my room. Waiting for Cassandra to be found, because I knew she would be. Vanessa wouldn’t smirk like that if she wasn’t up to something that would tarnish my image.

 I started pacing, planning how I would defend myself. Bracing myself for the worst for what felt like two hours, until I heard Vanessa's voice again.

“Fuck,” I muttered and rushed to where they all gathered. Cassandra was escorted in by two of Axel’s own guards; she looked a complete mess, disheveled, barefoot, with bruises covering her body, like she somehow survived falling off a cliff.

She looked exhausted, and for the first time I was worried.

Axel looked relieved, and something about the way he looked at her undid something in me I hadn’t realized was still standing.

Vanessa ran to her the moment she saw her, lightly hugging her, and trying to avoid touching the bruises on her. They gave a remarkable performance that even I almost believed it.

Cassandra's eyes met mine. She hid behind Axel and pointed her trembling hands towards me. “Please, don’t let her hurt me.”

I looked behind me, genuinely searching for who she could be referring to, but no one was there. No one but me.

Then I laughed. I laughed so loudly everyone around started to look at me like I was insane. “I knew you hated me, but this…this is just wow. All this for me.” I said, stepping closer to her. “Are these bruises even real?”

Cassandra flinched and stumbled back into Axel, and he caught her like she was about to fall.

“Isla.” His voice had dropped. “That’s enough.”

“Enough?” The laugh died in my throat. “She just accused me of kidnapping and hurting her in front of everyone, and you want me to be quiet?”

I caught Vanessa’s eyes over Cassandra’s shoulder; there it was again, that same flicker of satisfaction.

“I’m sorry,” Cassandra said. She was quiet now, still trembling behind Axel. She turned to him and held his hands. “I’m sorry I ran that night. I was scared; I didn’t know what else to do. I…”

“I did come for you,” Axel said.

“I know,” she said. “I know you did.”

I glanced at Axel; he watched her like she was something fragile, like something precious. Like someone he was afraid of losing again.

“You didn’t even attend the Masquerade,” I said, trying to at least get Axel to look at me, but he didn’t. Not once. “It was me. I don’t care how she got your bruises. But trust me, Axel, the story she is telling you is not true.”

“Remember the pool,” Cassandra said softly. “You laughed at me because I didn’t know how to swim.”

“Liar,” I said. 

“I am sorry, Isla. But I am not scared of you anymore.” Cassandra said, slowly standing up, as if she got a wave of strength. “Not when I’ve got Axel,” she added, her hand slowly drifting to her stomach. “Not when I am carrying his baby.”