Cassian's POV
The cathedral doors opened and everything became real.
Thousands of faces turned toward Cassian. Thousands of eyes stared at the bride walking down the aisle in a dress that cost more than armies. The dress was heavy. So heavy it felt like walking through water. Every step took enormous effort. Every movement felt wrong.
Cassian kept his eyes down behind the veil. Kept his breathing steady even though his heart was trying to escape his chest. One step. Another step. The aisle seemed to stretch forever.
The organ music filled the cathedral. Ancient and beautiful and absolutely suffocating.
Through the thin white fabric of the veil, Cassian could see the crowd. Blur of colors. Blur of faces. Everyone who was anyone in two kingdoms had come to watch this wedding. Had come to see the princess marry the crown prince. Had come to witness the alliance that would supposedly save them all.
They had no idea they were watching a boy in a dress.
At the end of the aisle stood Damian.
Cassian's breath stopped.
He was so tall. Taller than he'd looked from the courtyard. Broad through the shoulders in a way that made him look like he could break things with his bare hands. His presence filled the cathedral like a physical force. Like gravity pulling everything toward him.
The crown prince was dressed in formal military clothes. Gold and red and white. Every button polished. Every line perfect. He looked like power made flesh.
And he was staring directly at Cassian.
His eyes were dark and sharp and so intense that Cassian felt like they were burning right through the veil. Like they could see everything. The fear. The fraud. The boy masquerading as a princess.
Cassian's legs almost gave out.
He forced himself to keep moving. One step. Another step. Finally reaching the altar where Damian stood waiting.
The crown prince extended his hand.
Cassian took it and immediately understood what power felt like. Damian's grip was absolutely brutal. His palm was warm and calloused. His fingers closed around Cassian's hand like a cage. The touch made Cassian's entire body react. His weak Alpha blood recognized genuine Alpha strength and responded with something that felt like hunger.
It was terrifying.
The priest began speaking but Cassian couldn't hear the words. His world had narrowed to just this. Just Damian's hand holding his. Just the overwhelming presence of the man standing beside him. Just the knowledge that in a few hours, he would have to share a bed with this person.
The vows came and went like a dream.
Cassian repeated words he didn't mean in a voice that didn't quite sound like his own. Seraphina's voice. The gentle, delicate voice he'd been practicing for days. Through the veil, he saw Damian's jaw tighten. Saw something flicker in those dark eyes.
Did he know?
The rings were produced by servants. Bands of gold that cost fortunes. Cassian slipped one onto Damian's finger and his hand shook so badly he almost dropped it. Damian's grip tightened, steadying him. The touch lasted only a moment but it burned.
Then Damian was sliding a ring onto Cassian's finger.
It was done.
They were married.
The priest raised his voice and pronounced them bound for life. The cathedral erupted in cheers. Music swelled. Rose petals fell from the ceiling like snow.
And Damian lifted the veil.
Cassian's heart was racing so fast he thought he might die right there at the altar. This was the moment. The moment when Damian would see his true face. The moment when the entire deception could fall apart if the crown prince looked too carefully.
Damian leaned down and pressed his lips to Cassian's.
It was the quickest kiss Cassian had ever experienced. A brush. A touch. Cold and distant and absolutely devoid of any feeling. Damian pulled back almost immediately and turned to face the crowd with Cassian's hand held firmly in his.
Not gentle.
Not kind.
Just a performance.
The ceremony ended in a blur of congratulations and celebrations. They were escorted through the cathedral on a carpet of rose petals. Nobles reached out to touch them as they passed. To bless them. To congratulate them. To wish them fertility and strength.
Cassian felt numb.
Everything was happening to someone else. Some other person wearing this dress. Some other person with Seraphina's face and perfume and life.
The reception was held in an enormous ballroom that glittered with a thousand candles. Long tables overflowed with food. Musicians played in the corner. Dancing would come later. But first came the endless parade of noble after noble coming to offer congratulations and well wishes.
Cassian sat beside Damian and smiled and nodded and said nothing.
He was terrified of opening his mouth. Terrified that his voice would break. Terrified that someone would look too closely and see the truth.
Damian sat rigid beside him, his expression completely unreadable. He didn't look at Cassian once. Didn't acknowledge him in any way except when duty required it. When a noble made a comment about heirs, Damian's hand briefly squeezed Cassian's in what might have been a threat or might have been reassurance.
Cassian couldn't tell which.
As the evening wore on, exhaustion started to set in. The dress was suffocating. The perfume was overwhelming. The pretense was crushing him underneath its weight.
And then servants appeared.
Dozens of them, moving with practiced grace. They bowed to Damian and Cassian. They gestured gracefully toward the exit. The hour had come. The bride and groom needed to retire to their chambers. The wedding night awaited.
Cassian's mouth went dry.
Damian stood and offered his hand to Cassian. Another performance. Another lie. Cassian took it and let himself be led from the ballroom. Behind them, nobles cheered and called out blessings and made jokes about the duties of a bride on her wedding night.
None of them knew.
None of them had any idea that the girl they were celebrating wasn't a girl at all.
The corridors of the palace were quiet and empty. All the servants had been sent away. All the guards had been positioned outside doors. This was supposed to be a private time. A sacred time. A time when the new bride and groom began their marriage.
They reached the royal bedchamber.
It was enormous. Larger than entire wings of the northern castle. The bed was massive and covered in white silk. Rose petals were scattered across the sheets. Candles burned in every corner, casting everything in soft golden light.
The servants who'd escorted them began moving with efficient grace.
"Remove the dress," one of them said gently. Like this was normal. Like undressing a bride in front of multiple servants was just part of the job.
Cassian wanted to run.
The servants worked quickly, undoing buttons and ties. The heavy wedding dress fell away. The undergarments came next. Layer after layer removed until Cassian was standing in just a silk nightgown that left almost nothing to imagination.
He felt utterly exposed.
The servants combed out his hair. They applied oils that smelled like vanilla and honey. They adjusted the nightgown so it draped perfectly. They were making him beautiful for his wedding night.
They were preparing him like an offering.
When they finally left, it was with knowing smiles and whispered comments about how the prince was a lucky man. The door closed behind them with a soft click.
Cassian stood alone in the massive bedchamber and stared at the marriage bed.
The door on the far side opened.
Damian entered, already undressed to the waist. His chest was broad and muscled and completely overwhelming. He was every Alpha that Cassian had ever been told he should be. Everything strong and powerful and dominant.
His eyes found Cassian immediately.
And in that gaze was something dangerous. Something that made Cassian's entire body go rigid with fear and something else. Something he didn't have a name for.
"We need to talk," Damian said, his voice low and absolutely cold.
He locked the door behind him.
"Before we do anything else, we need to talk about who you really are."
Cassian's blood turned to ice.
Damian moved toward him slowly, like a predator approaching prey. His expression was unreadable but his eyes held something that looked like understanding. Like recognition.
Like he already knew the truth.