Chapter 3

I stood silently as the maid adjusted the veil on my head, her fingers trembling slightly.

The days had passed by in a blur, and finally, I was being thrown out. 

The white gown I wore felt heavy, not because of the fabric but because of what it represented.

 It wasn’t just a wedding dress, it was a chain binding me to a life I didn’t want.

I had tried to run away previously but that didn't end the way I wanted. 

So now I had no choice. 

My mother stood behind me, her sharp eyes scanning my reflection in the mirror.

“Stand straight,” she ordered, her voice devoid of any warmth. “At least try to look presentable.”

I was getting married to a man known to kill, and that was all she was saying.

I was being sent off to my death, but they wouldn't care.

I straightened my posture, swallowing the lump in my throat.

 My hands fidgeted with the lace on my dress, and she slapped them away.

“Stop that. You’ll ruin it,” she snapped, fixing the part I had touched. 

It's just a dress. I wanted to say, but I shifted my gaze away from her. 

I looked at myself in the mirror. 

My face was pale, my eyes swollen from crying all night, and my lips pressed into a thin line to stop them from trembling.

I didn’t look like a bride. The image right in front of me was horrifying. 

And yet no one cared. 

“Beautiful,” my mother muttered, though there was no warmth in her tone.

 “At least you’ll look like a proper alpha’s wife.”

Her words stung, but I stayed quiet. Protesting was useless.

I wasn't her favorite child, Sophie; I couldn't expect her to act like she liked me.

The door opened, and my father entered. His eyes barely glanced at me before he said, “It’s time.”

The weight in my chest grew heavier. 

My feet felt like lead as I followed them out of the room with my heart racing. 

We arrived at the wedding venue, a grand hall that could have been beautiful if it didn’t feel so suffocating.

I could barely breathe, but I did my best to steady myself.

Rows of unfamiliar faces turned to look at me, their gazes cold and curious.

Who was stupid enough to willingly throw herself to a mad alpha?

But I didn't do so willingly. 

The altar was at the end of the room, but it felt miles away.

I kept my eyes down, trying to ignore the stares, but I could feel them. 

They were all judging me, mocking me.

I dug my finger into my palm, feeling the sharp pain travel up my arm.

Just relax. 

I said to myself.

My parents walked ahead, their backs straight and proud, as if they were showing off some prized possession.

And maybe that’s all I was to them—a thing to be traded away.

At least I would be useful to them even without my wolf. 

Then I saw him.

Zayden.

He stood at the altar, his tall frame commanding attention. 

His scar ran down the side of his face, making him look even more menacing.

And that was who I was supposed to get married to?

His eyes were sharp like they could see right through me.

And maybe they could. 

My gaze lingered on his face, to be more specific, the scar.

But that didn’t bother me. It was his presence that froze me in place.

It was cold, intimidating, and ruthless.

He looked like the type of person that would kill you if you did one thing wrong. 

He didn’t smile, didn’t move, didn’t even acknowledge me as I approached.

Instead, he looked past me, speaking to my father like I wasn’t even there.

“She’s on time. Good,” Zayden said, his deep voice echoing in the hall.

“She’ll do,” he added, sounding dismissive. 

Who he got married to was not his business, as long as she fit into whatever image he wanted.

I swallowed hard, my knees trembling beneath the dress.

I wasn’t a person to him. It was just something to be inspected and approved.

I wonder what would have happened if I didn't pass his supposed inspection. 

Very soon, the ceremony began, and it passed in a blur. 

The officiant's words were cold and emotionless, just like everything else.

It felt like everyone knew the nature of this wedding.

A marriage of convenience, and not of love. 

At this point, I have given up on finding love and just accepted my fate. 

Zayden’s hand gripped mine tightly as he slipped the ring onto my finger.

It wasn’t a gentle touch, obviously not. 

There was nothing gentle about this man right here. 

It was firm, almost like a warning.

When it was my turn to do the same, my hands shook so badly and I dropped the ring. 

Oh fuck. 

I cussed mentally, staring down at the ring which lay at his feet. 

I could hear the whispers coming from the crowd and, worst of all, the col,d, irritated gazes of my parents.

I felt it.

“Go ahead and pick it up," Zayden said, his cold eyes boring holes into me. 

Slowly, I went down and picked up the ring, standing to my full height immediately. 

I was just about to slip the ring into his finger when he took it off my hands, tossing it away. 

“It's dirty," he hissed. 

I stood there confused, unsure of what to do after this. 

He had just tossed our wedding band off, what was left to do?

Another ring was placed before me, and I took it wordlessly, slipping it onto his finger. 

My hands shook, but I tried to steady it to prevent the ring from falling once more. 

Zayden stared at me, the weight of his gaze making it hard to breathe.

“Say it,” he murmured, his voice low but commanding.

I blinked up at him, my mouth dry.

What?

Say what?

I felt confused about what he wanted but I didn't dare voice that out.

“Say the vows,” he repeated, his tone growing impatient.

Oh. 

Our wedding vows which I didn't mean. 

The one where I promised to love him and stand by him and whatnot. 

But I still said it. 

I forced the words out, my voice barely audible. My heart felt like it was being squeezed with every syllable that tumbled past my lips 

When the officiant finally pronounced us husband and wife, the room erupted in applause, but it didn’t feel like a celebration.

It felt like a death sentence.

My death sentence.