(The grand hall rises like a cathedral carved from moonlight itself. Theodore stands at the center, his chin tilted high, voice curling inside his own skull like venomous silk.)
Theodore (to himself, low, mocking):
"Ah, Lunaris Hall… the womb of curses, the stage of my ruin. And here I stand, chained not by steel, but by the crimson thread of a human. Isabella. My so-called bond. Tell me, what cruel joke is this? The greatest Alpha of Crescent Blood… tied to her? A fragile beauty, a shimmer in a gown? This place should sing of my victories, yet it dares laugh at me."
(He runs his fingers along the armrest of the throne-like chair, his lips curling into a smile so sharp it cuts the air.)
Theodore (murmuring again):
"Look at them all… drooling at the idea of love, reunion, destiny. Fools. A hall of fools. They cheer for my chain and call it fate."
Isabella's POV – Walking In
(Her fingers claw softly against her father's arm as she takes each step. Her gown, ivory-white with the lightest shimmer, catches the glow of chandeliers above. Her hair—deep red, like wine unspilled—falls in silken curls just brushing the middle of her back. Her violet eyes—almost glowing—draw gasps from the crowd. A hush falls as though the world itself holds its breath.)
(She feels the stares clawing at her skin, but her lips don't tremble. She holds her head high, her beauty simple yet devastating.)
Dante's POV – Watching from the crowd
(His eyes narrow, then widen. His thoughts drip like smoke, poisonous yet alluring.)
Dante (to himself, mocking whisper):
"Theodore, you idiot. You blind fool. Look at her. The goddess draped in white, and you, standing like a man chained to his own pride. You do not deserve her. No… you never did. This bond could make you, but you'd rather let it break you."
(His lips curl into a slow, dangerous grin as his fingers brush the scar on his cheek.)
Dante (thoughts, dark and smoky):
"But it doesn't matter, does it? If you won't claim her, I will. Used or not, broken or not… beauty like hers doesn't fade. You may lock her in your hall, but I… I could unlock
her fire."Then Isebella reaches towards Alpha Theodore.
(Isabella finally reaches him. The hall holds its breath. Music fades. Everyone sees only the perfect image of the Alpha groom waiting for his bride. But between them—words slip like shadows, too quiet for any other ear.)
Theodore (smiling faintly, leaning closer, voice a whisper laced with venom):
"So… this is it. The cursed bond dressed in white. Tell me, Isabella… does it sting, knowing you'll never be more than a chain around my neck?"
(Theodore's jaw tightens. He tilts his head, letting his breath ghost near her ear.)
Theodore (mocking, softer):
"Careful, little flame. You're playing with fire you cannot tame. One day, it won't be my pride that burns you… it will be me."
Isabella (eyes unflinching, whispering back, her lips curving like a blade):
"Chains don't bind kings, Theodore. They reveal how weak the king really is… when he needs them to stand."
Theodore (smiling like a predator, voice a low whisper):
"So… the lamb walks into the wolf's den. Did you really think dressing in white makes you less of a burden, Isabella?"
Isabella (chin tilting, defiant whisper):
"Burden? No. A bond. And a bond stronger than your arrogance, Theodore."
(Theodore leans in, his smirk sharpening, his tone cutting through her defense.)
Theodore:
"A bond? Bonds break. Arrogance… that builds empires. Look around you, Isabella. Every single one of them is here for me. Not for you. Without me, you're nothing but a pretty shimmer on borrowed ground."
Isabella (chin tilting, defiant whisper):
"Burden? No. A bond. And a bond stronger than your arrogance, Theodore."
(Theodore leans in, his smirk sharpening, his tone cutting through her defense.)
Theodore:
"A bond? Bonds break. Arrogance… that builds empires. Look around you, Isabella. Every single one of them is here for me. Not for you. Without me, you're nothing but a pretty shimmer on borrowed ground."
Isabella (swallowing, her violet eyes flicker, but she forces a whisper):
"Maybe… but even kings fall when they underestimate a shimmer."
(Theodore chuckles darkly, letting his breath curl against her ear.)
Theodore (whisper, victorious, final strike):
"No, Isabella. Kings don't fall. They make others kneel. And you… you already are."
(Isabella's face remains calm for the hall, but inside, his words hit like chains. Theodore straightens, wearing his smirk like a crown, his victory hidden in plain sight. To everyone else—they are a perfect, silent couple. But to the readers, it's clear: the Alpha just crushed her spirit in one whisper.)