The voices of the crowd became a blur of noise. The room seemed to spin. I looked around wildly until my eyes landed back on him, and everything stopped.
The air crackled around him, not with warmth like earlier in the garden, but with raw, untamed power that made the fine hairs on my arms stand up. My breath hitched, caught somewhere between fear and a terrifying, unwelcome flicker of attraction.
My eyes dragged upward, taking in the figure of devastating power. He was no longer in dirt-brown work clothes but in a regal military-style tunic of black, embroidered with intricate silver threads that mapped the constellations of the kingdom. His broad shoulders seemed even squarer, amplified by the uniform's severe cut. He was so perfect it hurt to look at him, a sharp contrast to the decaying king I had expected moments before.
I gave a frantic glance around before my gaze fell back on those dark, intense eyes.
"You may now go ahead and kiss your bride," the priest repeated.
Dylan stepped forward just as my heart started pounding beneath my chest . He took my hand in his, and that was when I realized I was trembling like a leaf.
I felt embarrassed and though I tried to narrow my eyes, they wandered right back to him.
His hand was warm and surprisingly rough against my own chilled skin.
"It's okay," he mouthed to me with an assuring nod that sent a wave of unpredicted calm over me. In that moment, the same warmth the stranger in the garden had radiated seemed to fill the space between us.
He leaned in, and the gentle brush of his lips sent a shocking feeling through me. My heartbeat skyrocketed and hammered against my ribs.
It was over in a second, but the ghost of the touch lingered on my lips. My first kiss.
He turned to the crowd, staring ahead as if he had just performed a duty, and I did the same after stealing one long, last glance at him.
As my eyes searched for a place to settle, they locked on the worst person they could choose.
Briana Depay, my stepmother, her hazel eyes shooting daggers at me.
Her face was a cold mask, but beneath it, I saw something more terrifying: a silent deadly promise. With , a certainty that turned my blood to ice, I knew then; I was in a whole lot of trouble.
---
The ladies-in-waiting rushed over to me just as some important-looking men engaged the Prince. I was forced to wear a weak smile as their jealous eyes raked over me.
"She is beautiful, for a redhead," I heard a few of them whisper. Their words felt like tiny pinpricks all over my skin. I felt my neck and cheeks grow hot with a blush I couldn't control. My full hair had been slicked back with gel; what would they say when my wild curls were all let down naturally?
I was curtsying to someone when my family came over and surrounded me. The others stepped away while my father smotered me with fake kisses on my forehead. He took my hand in his and led me to a corner of the room.
When we were out of earshot, Briana hissed immediately. "You unfortunate prostitute, what did you do?" she snarled.
I flinched inwardly at the vile words, but I tried to keep my posture calm.
"Shut up, Briana!" Dad warned, and then he turned to me, his dark eyes demanding more than any foul lie. I shook my head frantically at him.
"No. I did not do anything. I swear I don't know why he was the one who married me!" I hurriedly said.
"He did not marry you! He can never marry you!" Lala cried, her eyes bloodshot, veins throbbing at her temples. She reached for her mother's arm. "Mother, maybe the King is too old to attend his own wedding. He wasn't there yesterday at the ceremony rehearsal!"
"Tell your daughter to shut up, Briana!" Dad glared. Lala fell silent, but her lips were trembling.
"I'll be back. I need to find Alpha Casper," Dad said, giving Briana a look that said watch over her.
Then he melted into the crowd.
Briana put an arm around me, her fingers digging into my skin. I bit my lip to suppress the pain.
"That man you stood up there with is my daughter's husband-to-be, the Lycan Prince Dylan," she began, her voice low and dangerous. "Now, if by any chance we find out that he is the one you are married to—if that horrendous mistake is true—then you must divorce him within a fortnight. He is a principled man, unlike his grandfather, and he won't force himself on a woman."
Then she turned me to face her, forcing a soft gasp from my lips. She held my face with her hands, a smile on her face that spoke volumes of evil intention.
"If your father hears about this, or if you choose to defy me, Gen will be dead in an instant," she said. Then, with a deeper smile, she added, "Don't let me remind you about Mama Ray."
I felt a chill spread through my whole body, and my stomach began to churn with a familiar, icy dread. My knees felt weak, and for a second, I thought I might be sick.
Mama Ray. The name was one of the many ghost story i had experienced in the dark corners of my childhood home, after my mother's death .
Mama Ray, was a loyal servant who has been there for a very long time in our father's mansion. She held the role of the stewardess and was the only who stood up to Briana.
She never let Briana get away with maltreating me and stood in the way of unfair actions.
During a new moon festival , Mama who had crossed Briana had simply… vanished. The official story was that she returned to her village, but the looks the older staff exchanged told a different, more sinister tale. The threat was clear: cross me, and you will cease to exist.
"Keep your filthy hands away from Prince Dylan, or I will kill that wretch myself!" Lala warned, coming forward with a trembling finger.
"That's enough, Lala. I am sure Ruby has gotten the message," Briana said, holding my eyes with her death stare.
Then I felt an arm around me and gasped in shock. My father was back.
"Come on, my beautiful daughter," he spoke, using the tone and words he reserves for when he is showing me off. "The Prince is waiting for you."