Chapter 1 – The Chosen Bride
The scent of pine and ash filled the air as the procession moved through the cold stone halls of Valcryn’s palace. Outside, snow fell gently, blanketing the ancient fortress in white. Inside, every step Aurelia took echoed like a warning.
She shouldn’t be here.
She didn’t belong here.
But she was chosen.
Not by fate.
Not by the moon goddess.
By the Alpha King himself.
Her fingertips trembled beneath the silk gloves. The crimson gown clung to her like blood, too tight around her ribs, too loud for someone who had been raised to stay quiet. A half-human girl had no business standing in the palace of werewolf royalty, let alone being offered as a bride to their king.
“Keep your head down,” her escort whispered.
Aurelia didn’t answer. She couldn't. Her heart was beating too loud.
The doors to the throne room creaked open, and the cold inside was different. Not from the snow outside—but from him.
Kaelen Drayke, Alpha King of Valcryn, sat tall on his black marble throne. Golden fur lined his shoulders. His iron crown glinted like a threat. He didn’t rise. He didn’t speak. But his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that stripped her bare.
Amber. Like the sun before a storm.
“Bring her forward,” the Elder said.
Aurelia’s feet moved on their own, each step toward him louder than the last. Whispers swirled from the crowd—pure-blood nobles, warriors, priestesses. All watching her. All judging.
Half-blood. Weak. Unworthy. Impure.
But Kaelen didn’t flinch.
When she stopped before him, the silence stretched like a blade. Then he stood.
Taller than any man she’d ever seen. Stronger. Sharper.
But his voice was low, calm—too calm.
“You are Aurelia Thorne?” he asked.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied, barely a whisper.
His eyes flickered, like he noticed something only he could see.
“You are the peace offering.”
The words stabbed more than she expected. Like she was a gift… or a weapon.
“Yes.”
A long pause.
Then Kaelen did something no one expected.
He stepped down from his throne… and offered her his hand.
“You are no offering,” he said. “You are mine now.”
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Aurelia’s breath hitched. The court gasped. The Elders stared.
And she—foolish, terrified, hopeful—placed her hand in his.
And the prophecy began.
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