Ren gazed into the mirror, the figure staring back at her was a stranger cloaked in black silk and jewels. Was this a witch draped in the guise of a bride, or a princess caught in the strings of a cruel tale? She couldn't recognize herself anymore.
This was a life of royalty, a fate so many dreamed of, but it felt more like a gilded curse to her. No one should wish for this wretched life, she thought bitterly, her teary eyes shifting to her maid.
The maid stepped closer, a soft smile brightening her face. As she adjusted the golden hairpin in Ren's intricately arranged curls, she said gently, "You're beautiful, milady. He'll see that too. I'm sure he will fall head over heels for you."
Ren couldn't bring herself to smile, nor could she shed a tear. These beautiful words had no power to bring excitement into her heart. A week ago, she had vowed never to beg for forgiveness again. That day in the throne hall, she had clung to her uncle's leg, weeping from the depths of her spirit as she pleaded for him to end her life. But he had refused her cries and delivered his verdict instead.
He had locked her away in the left tower himself. It was a forbidden, desolate place with a vast, ancient chamber cloaked in dust and shadow with no sunlight. Guards patrolled the area day and night, ensuring there was no chance for her to flee or receive aid.
"Help your people in this war and earn their respect, or die like a witch. You're lucky to have a choice," he had cautioned her, his voice raspy with exhaustion and resolve. He talked a lot that day, about humankind being in danger of extinction and convinced her to marry the Prince. And she had to play her role as a noblewoman.
Later, she felt fortunate that they had at least allowed Lora, her maid, to attend to her and ensure she didn't starve herself to death.
But after all, she didn't want this marriage. Suddenly, she held Lora's hand, "Bring me poison." Her eyes grew wide, madness had taken over her sanity. She didn't want to marry a devil from Thegara, a land of barbarians. Those people were killers, predators, and savages that she couldn't put up with. They loved to slaughter humans.
Her action startled Lora, but before her maid could say a word, the door to the room creaked open, and Aunt Eve sauntered in. She rushed to hug her niece, but Ren stepped back, putting a hand between them, barely stifling the menacing tears threatening to fall.
Don't come closer, they will punish you!" Her voice was hoarse and thick with the growing lump in her throat. To her surprise, her aunt ignored her plea and hugged her tightly.
"You are one of the most beautiful brides I've ever seen, my love."
Ren forced a bitter smile. "But not the happiest."
"Oh, my daughter, my poor daughter. I don't care if they kill me for this hug." The woman cried and pulled back, wiping her tears away. "Your useless aunt can't protect you."
Ren glanced at her cuffed hand, which burned like fire. "I don't expect you to help me."
Seeing her aunt like this made her give up on ending her life and forget all about death. This woman had endured so much that the wrinkles on her forehead deepened, and her hair was streaked with more white strands than Ren could count. Every sign of aging was a testament to the weight of the suffering she'd borne while begging the King. Ren's heart twisted in response; the last thing she wanted was to cause her even more pain.
"You must marry the prince of Thegara," she urged, her voice strained. "You have to survive. That land is neutral—they don't care about magic." She paused to steady her breath, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Be strong, like your mother was."
She reached out and rubbed Ren's arms, but the girl didn't meet her gaze. Instead, her fingers clutched the folds of her wedding gown as if it could anchor her to something solid, something real.
If only her mother were still here, her father wouldn't have had to marry that viper from a powerful house to secure his grip on the court. He had sacrificed Ren for power, exchanging his daughter's future for his ambition. The weight of it crushed her chest, but she couldn't cry. Not now.
She collected herself, letting her resolve bubble up, empowering her urge to live this life for good. Her aunt was right—she had to maintain her strength. Ren met her aunt's gaze. "I will marry that mysterious prince," she declared, her tone unwavering, though unease was evident on Eve's face. She knew what her niece held in her heart, sadness.
Aunt Eve had raised Ren for nine years before her father came to take her away. She knew her better than anyone. Ren was lying and pretending to be strong again. Either way, Eve forced a smile on her face so as not to shatter the girl's resolve.
"I know you're not prepared for this, but the prince and his men are here." As she informed them, a wolf howled in the distance. Ren felt a cold wetness creep up her spine. Her heart pounded wildly, as though rocks were tumbling down a mountain, causing an earthquake.
Ren desperately tried to leave the chamber, but her legs refused to follow her brain's frantic commands. Panic surged through her, and the tight corset, combined with the heavy dress and puffy skirt, felt like they were suffocating her with every breath. She wobbled, unable to walk properly, stumbling more than once. Her aunt and Lora exchanged nervous glances before grabbing her arms, and leading her out of the chamber with a mix of hesitation and urgency.
More than twenty guards awaited her in the corridor. Ren swallowed and forced herself to walk between them. She sighed silently, telling herself, 'This is the moment I wanted to be magnificent.'
The pain in her heart was excruciating, penetrating her very soul. She imagined a future wedding with the man she would choose from among many suitors. The King had promised her a banquet full of jesters, musicians, and revelry. Instead, he was giving her a nightmare. He had promised that to her ten years ago when Ren was about to leave the citadel of Jaigara to live with her father and new family. But her beloved King had broken his word. What a foolish expectation, she thought.
The king of Alvonia was a tyrant, a man with no wife, no heir, and no love. He was the king of the Seven Kingdoms and the Nine Seas was heartless, surrounding himself with people only through fear, not affection. His reign was smeared with blood.
Despite his cruelty, he had been soft towards Ren for those nine years and filled her heart with hope that he might change one day. She could still remember the tears in his eyes the day she had abandoned him. But after ten years, he suddenly summoned the entire family, announcing he would choose his heir through a challenge. Many of the courtiers supported this decision, especially since the Seven Kingdoms were at war with the strange creatures beyond the Ice Lands who kept invading and burning their lands.
As they descended the stairs, Ren looked at the dark sky through the window. The glowing full moon bathed her face in the light. In that chamber, she couldn't tell if it was day or night, for it had no window.
But seeing the sky disturbed her even more. Tonight was the shapeshifters' sacred night. She was about to marry one of them—a devil disguised in a human form, a predator! A werewolf, but not just any werewolf. An ancient one, an immortal of a rare kind who had lived for a thousand years. Rumors whispered that he was a Fae shifter, a cursed one, cast out from the immortal lands. He was exiled after killing his brother to win his mate.
She didn't want to imagine a furry monster with countless fangs with blood dripping from them but the image kept popping up. The way he might hold her with his claws and leave deep wounds on her body pricked her brain. She shed silent tears at the thought.
People told horrible tales about the prince of Thegara. He had so much blood on his hands that made him smell bad. He was unkind, and cruel, and didn't like human women and used them for fun only. As far as she could anticipate and according to what her uncle said on the day he locked her in the tower, she was going to play a significant role as a very powerful princess.
In other words, she was a puppet. He wanted to exploit her magical power for his own gain. She had no choice but to comply, for the King had warned her that if she resisted her fate, he couldn't protect her from the people's wrath. They would burn her or hang her head on a spike to make a lesson out of her.
She let out a heavy breath.
They reached the exit gate, and fresh air touched her skin after a week that had felt like a lifetime. The sky was dotted with twinkling stars. Beyond the trees and flower beds, she saw only one black royal carriage in the courtyard as they made their way to the palace.
Terror churned in her stomach, crawling upward until it clawed at her throat, stealing her breath. Her steps faltered when her gaze landed on a guard from Thegara. He was shirtless, his body an unsettling masterpiece of sculpted muscles that rippled with each movement. His sheer height loomed over everyone, casting a shadow that felt heavier than the night itself. But it was his eyes, glowing an unnatural, piercing blue, like shards of frozen starlight, that locked her in place. They weren't the eyes of a man. They were the eyes of a predator. 'A werewolf', she cautioned herself, the word echoing in her mind like a warning bell.
The male guard cast a disdainful glance at the human guards as he approached. His presence alone was enough to make it clear he could tear them all to shreds effortlessly. Ren couldn't fathom how they had agreed to accept a human bride for their renowned prince. To them, humans were nothing more than playthings, prey to hunt for sport. They even didn't consider humans as their food as they believed human flesh was nasty. Royal or not, it didn't matter to them.
It didn't take long before they arrived at the threshold of the magnificent House Dorient sanctuary, a place where the statues of the royal family were settled. Ren loved this place, and long ago, she had pictured children throwing peony petals on her way to the altar as a happy bride on a sunny day, not a dull scary night. She did her best to shove her rising emotions down.
As they advanced, Ren's mouth fell open at the sight of only a dozen werewolves standing in a line. Her family was sending her away in secret, bound by a covert treaty. This wasn't her wedding day, it was her doomsday.
She passed her half-sister, Ara, who immediately stepped behind her and whispered into her ear, "You get what you deserve. Don't disappoint us, big sis." Ara chuckled before pulling away. Ren forced herself to suppress her fury, her gaze fixed on the statue of her late mother, silently begging her spirit for strength.
"I'm right here, darling. Don't mind your dimwit sister," Aunt Eve reassured her with a gentle smile. But the corner of her lips twitched as she glanced at the savage wolves, their faces hard and intimidating. Ren knew that was a sweet lie, telling her that her husband-to-be might possibly like her. The truth was, she was horrified.
As Ren stepped up next to the King, he said, "Win this war, and you can be free." She flinched at his words. So, her soon-to-be husband knew about this. They had made an agreement to assist each other in the war, and she was nothing more than a pawn in their scheme.
Subconsciously, her gaze flew to the darkened pathway, where two radiant orbs gleamed like twin suns, freezing her heart in place. Standing at 5'6", she felt diminutive next to this man, or rather, she corrected herself, he wasn't a man; he was a force of nature, 'A male' their kind named them. He was a towering figure at 6 '3 ", loomed over the rest of his men, exuding an undeniable supremacy. Whether it was her own terrified perception or the sheer, deadly aura that emanated from him, she couldn't tell, but it rooted her to the spot. Her pulse thundered in her ears, and her blood flooded through her veins. She was a rabbit caught in the gaze of a predator.