Novel & Cerita The King’s Chosen Bride

I felt like an imposter wearing borrowed clothes, waiting for the real master of the house to return and throw me into the cold. I wasn't sure how much time passed until I heard low voices echoing from the corridor outside my door. ​"Is this where the new bride is staying?" a hushed voice whispered through the wood. ​"Yes," another whispered back. "I heard the King's nephew rejected her back at her pack. Why would the King want a bride who can't even talk? No wonder he cast her aside." ​"It's obvious," the first voice muttered grimly. "The King took her because he knows she won't last anyway. She’ll die just like the rest of them."

“He promised me what Matteo never would. A place at the table. My own territory. Freedom from your shadow, Aristide. You… you would never let anyone else breathe. You’re your father’s son.” I saw Aristide’s fists clench. Saw the truth in Carlo’s words dig into him like glass. I touched his arm—subtle, grounding. He didn’t look at me, but I felt the way his tension eased by a fraction. “Cipher gave you nothing but chains,” Aristide said. “And you dragged us into war for it.” Carlo spat blood onto the table. “War was coming whether you wanted it or not.” His gaze flicked to me then, sharp and deliberate. “She made sure of that. The Chosen Bride. You think Cipher doesn’t know what she is?” The

Although Ashton ignored him, he continued. "Such a bold choice, and in such a short period of time. One can't help but wonder if it's all just a facade to silence everyone," he remarked, raising an eyebrow. The king stiffened, his jaw tightening. "Reena is more than that; she is my chosen bride and you will respect her, Damion." He derided her and stated, "Respect? Is she truly worthy of that even to belong to our family?” “Yes, I have chosen her and that qualifies her.”

From then on, I stopped seeking her love. Warmth spread across my forehead. I touched it and realized that it was blood. I took a deep breath and looked at the three of them—my mother, my brother, and the woman I had planned to marry. For the first time in forever, my head was crystal clear. "Noah, you know exactly how your leg got broken." His eyes flickered, and I smiled faintly at him. "This apartment is mine. If you want it, sure. Just pay me. And one more thing…" My gaze locked onto Jeanette. "If you didn't hear me clearly on the phone, I'll say it again. I'll step aside for you and Noah. This wedding is off!"

I blurted it out. She had a neutral look on her face if what I said meant nothing to her. “Okay,” she said, slamming the door in my face. Layla’s POV I wondered what had gotten into Dominic Foster. Why would he ask me to be his date? I thought our marriage wasn’t made public. I felt instant disgust towards him. The only reason I agreed was to get known among the social elites. The gala was 3 hours away. I had 3 hours to sway the audience and make this an unforgettable night for Clover City.

I finally find my voice. “As a candidate to become our king’s bride,” the ruler announces, and my jaw nearly drops. “Each year, from every settlement across the kingdom’s lands, one maiden is chosen as a potential queen for our ruler. For many years now, our king, Karadeylis, has failed to find himself a wife. This time, the scouts of brides chose my daughter, Miko. But you’ll replace her. You’re young, beautiful, and pure — there should be no problem with the substitution.”

He smiled warmly, gesturing for me to come up, and took my wrist. “Tonight is a momentous occasion. In honor of the Winter Solstice, I am announcing a decree that will shape the future of our realm,” the King’s voice boomed through the hall like thunder. “Quinn has reached her twentieth year. In accordance with the ancient blood-oath between our families, she will choose one of my sons to be her lifelong mate.” “The young man chosen will not only bind his soul to Quinn to ensure the purest royal lineage, but upon their marriage, he will inherit all my territories, my infinite treasures, and—the title of Dragon King.”

"His Majesty doesn't typically bring guests within these walls. Lady Ashira finds that romantic, I'm sure. I find it considerably more interesting for what it means politically — a King who's spent six months personally chasing a minor pack's rumor doesn't do so for sentiment alone. I wonder what you're actually worth to him, beyond whatever power you're still learning to control." Elena felt something old and familiar rise in her chest — not quite the humiliation of the Choosing Ceremony, but a close cousin of it, the particular sting of being weighed and found interesting only for her utility. "I'm not sure that's your business to wonder about." "Everything within these walls is my busines

More gasps, more whispered words, mumblings I didn’t want to hear. “What’s the meaning of this disgraceful act?” The king finally spoke. Still, I didn’t detect anger in his voice. Not yet anyway. “I want to ask for your forgiveness.” I started. He might be unfeeling, but he preferred honesty above all else. “Forgiveness?” I steeled my spine. This was it. “I have claimed Inara Bloomwood as my chosen bride and my first.” An uproar swept through the hall. “Did I hear right?”

Three hours before our wedding, I found out Denise Benson had picked up the wrong suit for me. Instead of the custom white tuxedo with intricate gold embroidery, she had brought home a plain gray janitor's uniform. When I pointed out the mistake, she was busy adjusting my best friend Eric Jones's bow tie. She barely glanced in my direction. "I grabbed the wrong one. It's too late to do anything about it now, so just wear it." I had heard some version of that excuse countless times over the past eight years. When I had gastritis, she brought me the wrong medication, yet somehow remembered exactly what Eric needed for his cough. On our third anniversary trip, she claimed she had mixed up