The Chosen Bride

~Leah pov~

I felt like I was dying.

Not the kind of dying the Mothers preached about during sermons, where sinful souls burned forever beneath God’s wrath, this was like something inside me was being buried alive while everyone around me smiled and called it a blessing.

“Sit still, Leah.”

Mother Ruth tightened the measuring ribbon around my waist before clicking her tongue in irritation. “You’ve grown thinner.”

I stared blankly at the cracked mirror in front of me while two younger girls pinned white fabric around my body, the wedding dress hung unfinished from my shoulders like a ghost waiting to swallow me whole.

“I’m trying,” I whispered.

Mother Ruth sighed heavily. “A wife cannot enter marriage looking weak, especially not the Master’s wife.”

The words made my stomach twist so violently I nearly became sick, the Master’s wife, even after two months, hearing it still didn’t feel real, that was a lie, It felt real every second, that was the problem, every morning I woke hoping it had been a nightmare, only for reality to crush me again the moment I opened my eyes, the Master had chosen me out of every girl in the Sanctuary, he chose me.

The entire compound celebrated the announcement like it was a holy miracle, bells rang for hours, women cried tears of joy, men congratulated me with smiles that made my skin crawl and I stood there frozen beside the Master while he rested one hand possessively against my shoulder like he already owned me.

Maybe he did, Inside the Sanctuary, girls belonged to the men chosen for them long before marriage ever happened, we were raised for obedience, not choice.

“Lift your arms.”

I obeyed automatically while the younger girls adjusted the sleeves of my dress, outside the sewing room windows, I could hear distant voices from the courtyard. Somewhere nearby, children recited morning prayers while guards patrolled the fences with rifles slung across their backs.

The Sanctuary never truly slept anymore, not after the disappearances started increasing and more girls began trying to escape, the Mothers blamed corruption from the outside world, the Master blamed weakness in faith, but secretly, I thought everyone was simply becoming afraid and they have every reason to.

“Mother Ruth,” one of the younger girls whispered nervously, “should we add more lace around the veil?”

“Yes,” Mother Ruth replied immediately. “The Master requested modesty.”

Of course he did, I lowered my eyes to my lap so they wouldn’t see the hatred flicker briefly across my face, hatred itself was dangerous, the Mothers said bitterness poisoned a woman’s spirit, but lately I felt poisoned already.

Two months ago, the Master summoned me to his private study after evening prayer. I still remembered every detail, the smell of incense, the heavy silence, the guards outside the door and him, Gabriel Vane.

The man everyone worshipped like a prophet, he was old enough to be my grandfather, perhaps older, no one actually knew his real age because nobody dared ask questions about the Master, but whispers among the older women claimed he was already in his sixties, his hair had turned silver years ago, though his presence remained terrifyingly strong, he spoke softly, moved slowly, and smiled gently, that was what made him frightening.

Nothing about him looked violent, until you disobeyed him, then people disappeared, I swallowed hard as Mother Ruth continued pinning the dress around my body, the Master had been married four times before me.

Four wives and every single one vanished, the Sanctuary never discussed them openly, but everyone knew their names.

Evelyn, Grace, Miriam and Clara.

The Mothers claimed they had been “called to higher service.”

No one believed that, but no one dared say otherwise either, not if they wanted to survive.

“Leah.”

I blinked, realizing Mother Ruth was staring at me. “Yes, Mother?”

“You’re drifting again.”

“I apologize.”

Her sharp eyes softened slightly. “You should be grateful instead of frightened. Most girls pray for this honor.”

I nearly laughed at the lie, no girl prayed to become the Master’s wife, we feared it, the older wives walked through the Sanctuary like beautiful ghosts before they disappeared, Quiet, hollow and exhausted, sometimes I still remember Clara sitting beside me during supper when I was younger, she had smiled softly while braiding my hair.

“You’re lucky,” she whispered once when no one else listened.

I frowned at her. “Why?”

“Because the Master hasn’t noticed you yet.”

At the time, I didn’t understand the sadness in her eyes, now I did.

Mother Ruth stepped back to inspect the dress. “You’ll be beautiful.”

The compliment felt like a death sentence, I turned my face toward the window before she noticed tears gathering in my eyes, beyond the courtyard walls, mountains surrounded the Sanctuary endlessly, gray, cold and unreachable.

Somewhere beyond them existed the outside world I had spent my entire life fearing, the Mothers described it as hell itself, they said women outside the Sanctuary were degraded and immoral, men were predators, cities were full of violence, disease, drugs, and lust.

The first time I saw a television during one of the Master’s private teachings, I thought I might faint from shock, women wearing almost nothing danced across flashing screens while loud music filled the room, I remember looking away immediately in horror, the Master smiled at me calmly afterward.

“You see now why we protect you?”

And part of me believed him, that was the terrifying thing, even now, after everything, part of me still feared the outside world more than the Sanctuary itself, because fear had been planted inside me since childhood, watered carefully until it wrapped around my mind like chains.

“Mother Ruth?” one of the younger girls whispered hesitantly. “Why was Leah chosen so late?”

The room fell awkwardly silent, Mother Ruth glanced toward me briefly before answering. “Because Leah was cursed with delayed womanhood.”

Heat flooded my face instantly, the younger girls lowered their heads respectfully, but I still saw their curiosity, everyone in the Sanctuary knew about me, I was strange, different and wrong.

Girls usually became women by twelve or thirteen inside the Sanctuary, shortly afterward came marriage arrangements, but my body betrayed expectations, at twelve nothing happened, then eighteen came, still nothing, the Mothers whispered constantly around me during that year. Some believed I was infertile, others thought I had been cursed by hidden sin.

Mother Ruth forced me through endless prayers and examinations while older women rubbed oils against my skin and recited scripture over my body, I became an embarrassment, a reminder that even the Sanctuary could not control everything.

Secretly, though I felt relieved, every month without bleeding meant another month without marriage, another month without belonging to a man, I knew it was selfish, wicked even, but sometimes, alone at night beneath my blankets, I thanked God quietly for making me different.

Then my first blood came at twenty and within three weeks, the Master requested me, just like that my freedom ended before I even understood what freedom was.

“You should be thankful your curse was corrected,” Mother Ruth continued sternly. “The Master sees purpose in you.”

I stared at my reflection silently, purpose, that word sounded beautiful inside the Sanctuary, it was sacred and holy, but lately purpose felt too much like ownership.

A knock sounded at the sewing room door before one of the guards stepped inside.

“Mother Ruth,” he said respectfully, “the Master wishes to see the bride during supper tonight.”

My chest tightened instantly.

Mother Ruth smiled approvingly. “Of course.”

The guard’s eyes briefly shifted toward me before he left again, the moment the door closed, I felt my hands start trembling, two days, only two days left before the wedding, two days before I belonged completely to a man old enough to remember my childhood, two days before I became another silent wife wandering the Sanctuary halls like a shadow or worse another missing woman nobody dared speak about.

The younger girls finally removed the unfinished dress from my body while Mother Ruth folded the veil carefully in her hands, white silk spilled between her fingers elegantly, beautiful enough for a funeral.

“Look at me,” she ordered suddenly.

I obeyed slowly.

“You must stop looking frightened,” she said firmly. “The Master dislikes weakness.”

I wanted to tell her I wasn’t weak, weak girls accepted death quietly and despite everything, some stubborn part of me still wanted to live, but survival inside the Sanctuary required silence, so instead I lowered my head obediently.

“Yes, Mother.”

Satisfied, she nodded.

“You may return to the dormitory.”

I hurried from the sewing room immediately before my composure shattered completely, cold air hit my face the moment I stepped outside, the Sanctuary stretched before me in endless gray stone and white-painted buildings. Women moved quietly between chores while armed guards watched from towers near the fences, everything looked peaceful.

That was the lie outsiders probably believed too, children laughed near the gardens, bells echoed softly through the mountains, smoke rose peacefully from chimneys, a perfect holy community, no one could see the fear buried beneath it.

I walked quickly across the courtyard, keeping my eyes lowered the way the Mothers taught us, but whispers still followed me everywhere.

“The chosen bride…”

“The Master’s new wife…”

“She’s fortunate…”

Lies, all lies, by the time I reached the dormitory, my chest hurt from trying not to cry, Naomi sat near the window folding laundry when I entered, the moment she saw my face, her expression softened.

“Oh, Leah.”

That was all it took, the tears finally came, I sank onto the edge of my bed while Naomi hurried beside me, she wrapped her arms carefully around my shoulders as I tried desperately to stay quiet, If the Mothers heard crying, they called it rebellion against God’s plan.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered shakily. “Naomi, I can’t…”

She held me tighter. “Don’t say that.”

“I feel like I’m disappearing.”

Naomi’s face crumpled slightly because she understood exactly what I meant, girls disappeared in the Sanctuary long before they physically vanished, the light left their eyes first, then their voices and everything else.

Naomi brushed tears from my face carefully. “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.”

But neither of us believed that, silence filled the room for a long moment before I finally whispered the thought haunting me for weeks.

“What happened to his other wives?”

Naomi immediately went pale.

“Leah—”

“No one talks about them.” My voice trembled harder now. “Why?”

She glanced nervously toward the dormitory door before lowering her voice.

“Because people who ask questions disappear too.”

Fear slithered down my spine instantly, outside, the bells of the Sanctuary began ringing again across the mountains, wedding bells, they sounded almost like a countdown.