Bride of the Wolf King

The Killer Bride

I got home way before any of them. I drove like a crazy person, weaving through the thick Chicago traffic without even looking at my mirrors once. My hands were shaking so hard on the steering wheel that I almost hit a trash can when I pulled into our driveway. I didn't even wait for the big garage door to open all the way before I turned off the engine and ran inside. I needed to be alone. I needed to breathe. But the second I stepped into our big, cold house, I realized that thinking my way out of this was impossible. My brain was just spinning in circles.

I went straight to the kitchen and grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge. I stood there, leaning against the kitchen counter, just staring at the front door like it was a monster. I was waiting for them. I was waiting for the men who had just traded my whole life away like I was some kind of old phone they didn't want anymore. All so they could have a few months of peace and keep their business moving without anyone shooting at them.

About ten minutes later, I heard the heavy front door slam.

"Where is she? Where is the little bride?" I heard Stefan's loud voice coming from the hallway. He sounded so happy, and that just made me want to scream even more. He and Ivan walked into the kitchen, and my father was right behind them. Stefan was already reaching into the fridge for a beer, and he had this huge, annoying smile on his face that made me want to slap him.

"There she is," Stefan said, pointing his beer bottle at me like I was a joke. "The little bride-to-be. You looked like you were going to pass out back there, Annie. You really need to work on your face. You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Shut up, Stefan," I snapped at him. My voice wasn't quiet anymore, and I didn't care if I sounded disrespectful. "You're a real asshole. You really stood there and told that animal that he could do whatever he wanted to me? How could you say that in front of all those people? Do you even have a brain in that head of yours?"

Stefan just shrugged his shoulders like it was nothing. He didn't even look like he cared that I was upset. "I was just saying the truth. He is a King, Annie. He is going to do what he wants anyway. I was just making sure he knew we weren't giving him a wife that would give him trouble. You should actually be thanking us. You're finally doing something useful for this family instead of just taking notes and hiding in your room."

"Useful?" I felt a sharp sting in my eyes, but I pushed the tears back. I wasn't going to cry in front of these people. "I'm your sister, Stefan! I'm a human being, not some piece of property you can just swap because you want peace! How can you be so heartless?"

"You are a Lukasz," Ivan said, his voice cold and flat like he was reading a grocery list. He was leaning against the door, looking at me like I was a math problem he had already solved. "A Lukasz does what the family needs to survive. Stop acting like a small child. You're marrying a King. Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position right now? You're going to have everything."

"Then those girls are stupid," I spat back at him. "He's a murderer, Ivan! His people blew up Leo's car! Have you forgotten your own cousin already? Or do you only care about family when it helps you make more money? You guys are disgusting."

Stefan stepped toward me, and his eyes got real small and mean. He was way bigger than me, and he loved using his size to bully people and make them feel small. "Watch your mouth, Anne-Marie. You're lucky we are even giving you a wedding. We could just hand you over to him tonight in your pajamas and he wouldn't care."

"That is enough. Both of you, shut up," my father's voice was quiet, but it stopped everything in the room instantly. He walked into the kitchen and sat down at the small table. He looked very old. He had taken off his jacket, and his shirt was all messy and wrinkled. He looked like a man who had just finished a very long day of work, not a man who had just sold his only daughter to a beast.

"Stefan, Ivan. Get out of here," my father said without looking up.

"But Dad, we were just—" Stefan started to complain.

"I said get out. Now," my father repeated, and his voice had that edge that meant he wasn't playing around. My brothers grumbled under their breath, but they knew better than to push him when he was in this kind of mood. Stefan gave me one last mean look before they both walked out of the kitchen. I stood there, gripping my water bottle so hard my hands were turning white.

"Anne-Marie," my father said, giving a long sigh. "Come and sit down here with me."

"No," I said, and I could feel my whole body shaking. "I just want to know why. Why would you do this to me? You know what those werewolves are. You know what Mario did to our people. He is a monster, Dad. A literal beast.”

My father rubbed his face with both of his hands, looking like he wanted to disappear. "Do you even know how many funerals I have gone to in the last two years, Anne-Marie? I have buried so many people. My nephews, my friends, my men. Every single time my phone rings, I'm scared it's someone telling me about another body. I am tired. I am just so tired of all this blood and fighting."

"So your bright idea is to give me to the monster who started it all?" I asked, my voice getting louder. "That's how you get peace? By feeding your own daughter to the wolves? Is that what I am to you? Just a peace offering?"

My father stood up slowly and walked over to me. He didn't look like a sad old man anymore. His eyes went sharp and cold, like two pieces of glass. He leaned in so close I could smell the stale cigar smoke on his breath.

"Listen to me very carefully," he whispered, and the sound made the hair on my arms stand up. "The wedding is a show. This peace is fake. Mario Massimo is the only thing stopping our family from owning this entire city. He is too strong, and he is too stubborn to play by our rules."

I frowned, my heart skipping a beat in my chest. "What are you even talking about? You just signed a treaty!"

"He trusts no one," my father continued, ignoring my question. "But a man is always weak for his wife. You are smart, Anne-Marie. You’re a strategist. You’re going to go into that house and find his weak spots. You’ll find out how to get past his guards and how he runs his business."

He gripped my shoulder, his fingers digging into my skin until it actually hurt.

"You have three months, Anne-Marie. Three months to find a way to kill him."

I felt like the floor had just been pulled out from under me. I stared at him, my mouth hanging open, trying to make sense of the words. "What? Are you insane? You... you want me to murder him?"

"It’s the only way," he snapped.

"No! No way!" I shouted, finally finding my voice. I tried to pull away from him, but his grip was like a vice. "I’m a computer geek, Dad! I take notes! I don’t even like stepping on spiders in the bathroom, and you want me to assassinate a Lycan King? He’s twice my size! He’ll rip my head off before I even get close to him!"

"You'll find a way," he said, his voice as flat as a stone.

"I won't! I can't do it!" I felt the panic rising in my throat, making it hard to breathe. "This is a suicide mission! You aren't sending me there to be a bride, you're sending me there to die! Is that what I am to you? A disposable bomb you can just throw at your enemies?"

My father’s face turned into a mask of pure steel. He didn't look like a dad anymore; he looked like a killer.

"If Mario is still breathing after three months, Anne-Marie, I will personally come to that fortress and kill you myself," he said, and he wasn't joking. I could see the truth in his eyes. "You are a Lukasz weapon. If the weapon doesn't work, I throw it away. Do you understand me? You finish him, or I finish you."

He let go of me so suddenly I almost fell over. He stepped back and smoothed out his shirt like he had just been talking about the weather.

"Now, go upstairs and prepare your things, the wedding is in three days" he said, his voice cold again.

I stood there in the middle of the kitchen, watching him walk away. I felt sick. I felt like a dead girl walking. My own father had just told me to become a murderer or lose my life.

I went up to my room and locked the door, moving like a robot. I threw my clothes into a suitcase, but I wasn't even seeing them. My mind was spinning. Three months. Ninety days to kill a monster I was terrified to even look at.