12. Eternal Chains II

Silas’s POV

The silence felt suffocating, as if it was waiting for me to make the wrong move so it could pounce on me and dry out my soul.

My throat felt dry, and I dared not look up at the King. I could feel him glaring at me already. But he couldn't blame me could he? I was basically being asked if I wanted to be bounded to him eternally. And I knew what that was for me.

And indeed, I also knew, that whether I said yes or no, there was still no way out. So I took a deep breath, accepting my fate. A tear slipped down my cheek as I raised my head to look at the King through the hazy view of the veil.

After a painfully long pause, my voice finally came out, barely a whisper. “Yes…”

“Speak louder,” he snapped sharply, making me flinch hard, my shoulders jerking as if he had struck me. The bouquet trembled violently in my free hand, and my throat felt tight, but I forced the word out again, clearer this time. “Yes.”

I noticed as the priestess’s eyes flickered back and forth between us, but she quickly schooled her expression and continued as if nothing had happened. Everyone else did the same. Of course, no one dared question the Lycan King on his wedding night.

“By the power and will of the Moon Goddess,” the priestess intoned, “you may now seal your union with a kiss.”

Kiss.

My heart nearly stopped as the King reached forward and lifted the sheer white veil from my face. I shuddered as cool air touched my tear-stained cheeks. The clear sight of his face made tears cling to my lashes as I looked up at him. His hand gripped my jaw firmly, not painful, but possessive, and he pulled me toward him.

Our lips met in a hard, unyielding kiss. It wasn’t gentle, tt wasn’t loving, not full of warmth or butterflies like I've always imagined how my first kiss would be. This was the opposite, even worse than what I had imagined the opposite would be.

It was a claim, cold and dominating, his mouth pressing against mine like a brand. I tasted salt from my own tears.

The golden bond flared brightly between us, sending unwanted sparks through my body even as terror flooded my veins. My inner Omega whimpered, caught between fear and the instinctive pull toward its mate. I hated how part of me still ached for him despite everything.

He pulled back sharply, releasing my face from his cold grip, leaving me breathless and trembling.

“And now, King Zenith, you may deliver the sacred mating mark, the public claim upon your fated mate.”

I barely had time to register the words before his hand gripped my face again. He tilted my head to the side with deliberate force, exposing my neck. I felt his warm breath ghost over my skin as he inhaled deeply. I heard his breath hitch for a second, it made me wonder what could've probably affected him.

But then, without warning, his teeth sank into the junction of my neck and shoulder, and pain, so much pain that I would never have expected from a bite, exploded through me. I whimpered brokenly, the sound vibrating through me. My hands flew up on instinct, grabbing tightly onto his arm to ground myself, to hold onto tightly, as if it would ease the pain.

Tears ran down my face as my nails digged into the fabric of his ceremonial robes. The bite was deep and claiming, I could already feel the bond surging, threading our essences together in a temporary knot that made my head spin. My body shook in his hold, but he didn’t let go until he was satisfied. Only then did he retract his teeth, licking the fresh wound once before pulling away.

The mark throbbed hotly, and I could feel a small trail of blood trickling down my neck.

The priestess raised her voice. “By the will of the Moon Goddess and the laws of our realm, I now pronounce King Zenith and Royal Consort Silas as eternally united. May this bond bring strength to the throne and prosperity to the Lycan people.”

The small crowd gave a deep now at once and when they rose back up, a polite applause erupted, mixed with whispers I couldn’t quite make out.

The King took my cold, trembling hand in his and turned us to face the crowd. His grip was firm, almost too tight. My fingers felt fragile in his, like they might break mine if he held a little too tightly. We stood there as the perfect image of royal unity while my soul screamed.

My eyes met Prince Zira's among the crowd. He was of course standing at the front row, but he was looking at me. At the sight of his face, the image from earlier surged into my head again, and I closed my eyes immediately, pushing those forbidden imaginations away. When I opened my eyes again, he was still looking at me, his eyes holding emotions I couldn't decipher.

Suddenly, I felt tired. So so tired. I realized too late that it was more than exhaustion when the world began to tilt, and my vision started to blur at the edges. My knees grew weak and the overwhelming weight of the bond finally crashed over me. I swayed on my feet, trying desperately to stay upright.

I failed.

My knees finally gave out and my body crumpled. I expected to hit the ground hard, but srong arms caught me before I could hit the stone floor, the scent that enveloped me immediately let me know who it was. I collapsed fully into the king's hold, my head lolling against his chest. His cedarwood scent surrounded me completely, overwhelming, terrifying, yet strangely steadying in my fading consciousness.

For a brief, hazy moment, being held like this felt almost safe, even as reality slipped further away.

“Get a doctor!” I heard someone yell in alarm.

The voices around us turned muffled, as if underwater. I was at the brink of passing out completely, but I still managed to look into his eyes. Our eyes met, and in that fleeting second, I thought I saw something flicker in those cold blue eyes.

Or maybe it was just the state of near-unconsciousness deluding my mind. Because the Lycan King who despised me could never feel fear for someone like me.

Could he?

______

Zenith's POV

Every other came muffled, like they were under water, like I was under water. I knelt there holding his unconscious form, one arm supporting his back. His scent surrounded me completely, vulnerable and broken. My wolf was frantic, urging me to protect, to carry him away, to fix what had been damaged. I shoved the instincts down with ruthless force, my face remaining a mask of cold authority even as my pulse thundered.

This was not a good sign.

Such things like this happening on a mating ceremony was ominous. Perhaps it was another reminder of why this union was a curse.

“Zenith!” I heard my brother call through the blurriness.

“This way.” he urged and I rose with my mate in my arms without a word and carried him out of the courtyard, the crowd parting silently before us.

I glanced down at his face again, taking in the sight of his still form.

This was not how I envisioned this night to be.