Elara's POV
The wedding grounds were silent.
Not the peaceful kind of silence… no.
This was the kind that pressed against the skin, heavy and suffocating, as though the world itself had paused… waiting to witness my destruction.
I stood at the center of the ceremonial grounds, dressed in white that felt heavier than chains. The fabric clung to my body like a second layer of fear smooth, immaculate, mocking me with its purity. It was too clean. Too untouched. Too undeserved.
Nothing about me was pure.
I folded my hands before me, fingers digging into my palms until my knuckles burned white. Pain grounded me. It reminded me that I was still here. Still breathing.
I lowered my gaze, fixing it on the cold stone beneath my bare feet. The surface had been carved smooth by centuries of vows blood bound promises whispered beneath the moon, sealed with dominance, obedience, and death.
I did not lift my head.
I had learned long ago that lifting your head invited attention.
And attention always invited pain.
I did not know who I was being given to.
Not even his pack.
Not truly.
Not the man whose name would soon be bound to mine in a vow I had never chosen.
Not the land I was being delivered into like an unwanted offering, wrapped in silk and lies.
The stories whispered during the journey here had spoken of conquest and power, of laws written in blood and obedience demanded without question. They spoke of an Alpha whose word was final whose anger meant extinction.
Still, nothing could have prepared me for this place.
The silk of the gown brushed against my skin as I shifted slightly, and my stomach twisted. The dress felt wrong on me his white, this softness as though it were exposing me rather than protecting me. Like it stripped away every layer I had built to survive.
Around me, wolves stood in rigid formation.
Too many.
Too disciplined.
Too dangerous.
Where did they come from?
Which pack are they from?
Their posture was controlled, their stance sharp, but their eyes told a different story. They did not look at me with pity. Not even with curiosity.
They looked at me with fear.
The realization made my chest tighten painfully.
I felt it then a presence beneath the ground, thick and electric, humming through the stone and curling around my ankles like a living thing. Power. Dominance. Authority so absolute it did not need to be announced.
Whatever Alpha ruled this land… even his people feared him.
This will be worse than Iron Claw, I told myself, swallowing hard.
Iron Claw had been cruel, yes but predictable. Pain there followed rules. Schedules. Patterns. I had learned how to survive within them. How to shrink. How to vanish while still breathing.
This place felt different.
Unstable.
Unforgiving.
Deadly.
My heart thundered painfully in my chest as my thoughts drifted back to the warning Alpha Aldrich had given me earlier —his voice low and merciless as he cornered me by the back door before handing me over like property.
"If he finds out you're not my daughter," he had said coldly, claws brushing my chin as he forced my face upward, "or that you are an Omega—"
His eyes had darkened with cruel promise.
"I will kill you," he continued. "And I will make sure you never have a place for burial."
The words echoed now, loud and relentless.
He will kill you.
Fear wrapped around my heart like a tightening noose.
How would he not find out?
How could I hide the truth from a higher wolf from an Alpha powerful enough to command this many soldiers and dignitaries?
How could I hide my scent… my weakness… my Omega blood?
I would be discovered in an instant.
Looking around at the ranks of warriors and the presence of powerful figures, it became terrifyingly obvious—
The man I was being sold to was not a simple Alpha.
Who could he be? I asked myself desperately, stretching my hearing, hoping to catch even the faintest whisper of gossip.
But no one spoke.
Not his name.
Not his title.
Not even a hint.
That alone told me everything.
He was feared.
"How will he not find out sooner or later?" I had whispered earlier, my voice shaking as Alpha Aldrich dragged me forward.
"That's left for you to figure out," he had replied coldly.
Then he leaned closer, his grip tightening painfully around my hand.
"Make sure nothing stops this wedding from happening," he commanded. "You hear me?"
"Yes," I had replied softly, my voice breaking.
"Good."
Now, he stood beside me again, his hand gripping mine as he walked me down the aisle. His smile was wide and false, plastered on his face like a poorly worn mask.
I felt sick looking at him.
"Here comes the bride," the host announced loudly.
The words felt like a death sentence.
"Alpha Draven," Alpha Aldrich said, his voice echoing across the grounds. "I bring before you Elara Vale my daughter."
Liar. I shouted in my head!
"Your bride."
The world stopped.
Silence fell so completely it felt as though the air itself had been stolen. Every gaze shifted forward, heavy and suffocating. I could swear even breathing had ceased.
What kind of man commanded this level of fear?
Then—
Wait.
My heart stuttered violently.
Did he just say Alpha Draven?
As in—
Draven Ashmore?
The ruthless Alpha of Ashmore Dominion?
Cold dread flooded my veins.
Am I being sold to Alpha Lucien Draven Ashmore?
The Alpha whose name alone sent chills down every spine across the territories?
Sudden understanding struck me like lightning.
No wonder.
No wonder Lyra had refused.
No wonder I had been sent as a substitute bride.
I had heard the stories.
Everyone had.
He despised lies.
Any mistake was corrected with blood.
He was brutal.
Ruthless.
Unforgiving.
The most feared Alpha of our time.
Every pack avoided crossing him including Iron Claw.
They said he never kept a woman longer than a night.
Some died in his bed.
Others were torn apart before dawn.
They said he killed for pleasure.
With stories like that, I had imagined him old… scarred… monstrous.
A beast wearing a crown.
I was a sacrificial lamb.
Given up to protect Lyra Vale.
I should have been relieved to be leaving Iron Claw.
Instead, I felt something far worse settle in my chest.
Hopelessness.
I was created to die young, I thought bitterly.
Moon Goddess… why me?
Then—
I felt it.
Footsteps.
Heavy.
Measured.
Unhurried.
The ground seemed to respond to them.
A presence rolled across the wedding grounds dark, commanding, suffocating. My breath hitched painfully as my wolf stirred weakly inside me, instinct screaming despite her fragility.
The air changed.
Fear deepened.
And then—
I saw a figure walking toward me.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Perfectly built, like a weapon forged by the gods themselves.
Power radiated from him with every step.
Who could this be? I thought inwardly