Chapter4
1550 Words
Myrcella’s POV
Silence.
Like death had entered the room.
All heads turned.
The flames that had almost consumed the Stark banner… now paled in comparison to the one standing by the doorway.
The Fluxwalker.
Eyes glowing like molten silver.
Aura crackling with raw danger.
And those guards—
They dropped me. Instantly.
I stumbled back, gasping—his words still ringing through my skull.
Bride?
Me?
“Baldur, what do you mean your bride?”
Anna’s voice wavered, her fake poise cracking like glass.
“You… you must be mistaken. It’s me!”
But Baldur didn’t even blink in her direction.
He walked straight to me—slow, deadly calm, a storm brewing under his skin.
Each step he took echoed like thunder across the silent hall.
When he reached me, he didn’t ask.
He didn’t hesitate.
He brushed my sleeve back into place with startling gentleness… and then turned to the king.
“Explain this, Baldur,” my father growled, rising slightly. “What’s going on?”
Baldur’s lips curved into something cold. Dangerous.
“You made a deal,” he said flatly. “You offered a daughter for peace between our kingdoms. I came for my bride.”
“But Anna—”
He cut the king off with a glare sharp enough to draw blood.
“I don’t want Anna.”
He turned, his silver eyes blazing like molten steel.
“I’m taking her.”
Gasps. Chaos.
“She’s a witch!”
“She’s cursed!”
“She’s not even fit to be seen—!”
Baldur’s voice boomed over them all dark and final
“I said I’m taking her. Try to stop me, and I’ll burn this palace to its foundations with your blood still fresh on the marble.”
Silence.
No one moved.
Anna lunged forward, shrieking. “You can’t have her! She’s nothing! She’s filth—”
Baldur snapped his head toward her, his voice like a whip
“Say one more word, and I’ll rip your tongue out and feed it to the hounds.”
She froze. Everyone did.
He turned to the king again, colder than death.
“You promised me a bride. You didn’t say which daughter. I made my choice.”
Then back to me—his eyes, dark with fury and ownership.
“Get her ready. We leave by sundown.”
And just like that, he turned and began walking out as if no one here could stop him.
Because they couldn’t.
My knees buckled. I couldn’t breathe. The room spun, voices fading into a blur of chaos.
He said I was his bride.
In front of everyone.
Tears blurred my vision. My chest burned—rage, confusion, shame, everything. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. His voice still echoed inside me like a curse I couldn’t shake.
I was trembling. Drowning.
Then Helen’s arms caught me. Her hands were on my face.
“Hey, my baby… look at me,” she whispered, voice shaking. “You’ll be fine, my love.”
********
I stood there—stone, breathless, ruined beneath the towering altar that was supposed to belong to someone else.
The moment Alpha Baldur said, “She leaves with me,” my fate was sealed.
My father said nothing.
Nothing.
Not a protest. Not a word. Not even a flinch.
That silence roared louder than a thousand screams.
He was handing me over. Just like that.
And within the blink of an eye I was in a wedding gown.
My veil ripped away, my hair redone in trembling hands, and my wrists trembling where Helen tried to still them. I didn’t protest. I didn’t cry.
Because what was the point?
The High Priest’s voice echoed through the now-silent hall.
The guests watched—some stunned, others disgusted but none dared speak.
Not after what Baldur did. Not after that voice, that threat, and that mark that still seared my skin.
“Do you, Princess Myrcella of House Stark… take Alpha Baldur of Valtoria… as your mate and king?”
I swallowed the scream burning my throat.
“I… do.”
Gasps. A few sobs.
But none louder than Anna’s wail as she pushed forward, mascara running, voice cracking
“NO! This is my wedding! He’s mine! You can’t do this to me”
I didn’t turn to look at her.
I didn’t move.
“Get her out,” my father snapped coldly, waving his hand.
Guards seized her.
“Let go of me!” she shrieked, kicking, sobbing, her voice echoing off marble walls.
“Stop embarrassing yourself,” Luna Seraphina hissed under her breath.
But I didn’t hear them anymore.
Because Baldur had turned to face me—those dark, burning eyes locking mine.
“Do you take this man—” the priest began again.
He didn’t wait.
“She’s mine. Now seal it,” he growled.
And before I could breathe
He kissed me.
Hard. Possessive. Unyielding.
My knees buckled, the heat in my veins igniting again, shame and desire warring inside me.
Everyone watched.
And still, he didn’t let go.
The hall exploded in chaos behind us.
But all I could feel… was him.
They didn’t say goodbye.
Not my father.
Not Seraphina.
Not even a glance from Anna, who was likely still screaming somewhere behind those cold palace walls.
It was only Helen…
Tears in her eyes, arms wrapped tight around me like she never wanted to let go.
“I’ll miss you, my baby. Be strong. Don’t let anyone break you… not even him.”
I couldn’t speak.
My throat burned, my heart felt hollow. She was all I had ever known. And now I was being taken.
********
Just hours later, the carriage rolled through the dark forests toward the House of Valtoria.
Silence thick. Air colder.
A storm brewing inside me.
And beside me, Baldur sat like a carved shadow, unbothered, unreadable.
The carriage jerked to a stop deep inside the woods. A massive stone hideout loomed ahead—cold, isolated, nothing like a palace.
“We’ll rest here. Valtoria is a day out,” he said flatly.
Inside, it was quiet. He led me to a clean room, the fire already lit. I stepped in, heart racing. He shut the door behind us with a heavy thud.
I turned to face him, needing answers, anything—but he beat me to it.
“You want me in a different room?” he asked, voice low, dark. “Darling, we’re married.”
“I… uhh… I didn’t”
“Shhhh…” he cut in, stepping closer. “Don’t speak.”
His eyes devoured me. My breath caught. The silence between us burned hotter than the fire.
He moved closer—slow, deliberate, like a predator tasting the moment.
I took a step back… then another. My heartbeat thundered in my ears like war drums.
This was it. The wedding night.
My first time.
And I didn’t know what to feel. Panic curled in my chest, fighting with something hotter. I remembered Helen once trying to explain what happens on the wedding night, but I had always shut her down—always laughed it off.
“Witches don’t marry,” I had told her. *
“We burn before we’re claimed.”
So why now?
Was that why he stopped us here, in the middle of the woods, instead of going straight to Valtoria?
Was it because Fluxwalkers were freaks?
Or because he couldn’t hold himself back any longer?
But as the inches closed between us, it wasn’t fear that was winning. It was something far worse—desire.
Even now, his presence unraveled me. My thighs clenched, my skin burned, and my traitorous body ached for something I didn’t even understand.
I wasn’t a Fluxwalker.
I didn’t know their ways.
I wasn’t even supposed to feel like this.
And then my back hit the wall.
There was nowhere else to run.
I flinched, breath stuttering. “I—I’m not ready, please…”
His hand slammed beside my head, and he leaned in, his voice like gravel soaked in sin.
“You’ve seen me in every dream you’ve had for weeks…” he murmured, eyes raking over my face, my lips.
“You’ve felt me, every inch of me and now you want to act innocent?”
My lips parted, but nothing came. He inched even closer, body barely brushing mine. I trembled.
“Poor little witch,” he whispered darkly, grabbing both my wrists and pinning them above my head.
“You wouldn’t even survive me. You’re not built for a Fluxwalker. One touch and you’d break.”
My breath hitched. My core throbbed at the brutal promise in his voice.
He tilted my head to the side with a rough hand, breath hot against my neck.
“So tonight…” he said, dragging his lips torturously close to my skin, I’ll be with someone who won’t die screaming.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
But something snapped inside me—shame twisted into fire. My heart was pounding, my breath unsteady, my wrists still pinned. And yet… I met his eyes. I didn’t flinch.
Instead, I whispered, my voice shaking but bold, raw, aching
“Then maybe you should try making me scream first.”
- Writer
