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1120 Words
The moment our dance ended, the reception hall burst back to life with music, laughter, and the sound of clinking glasses. Chase released my hand gently, then turned to greet well wishers who approached him. I stepped slightly back, making sure my veil stayed in place, my fingers brushing the sheer fabric as if it were the only shield I had left.
People looked at me with admiration, with joy, with envy. They saw Cassandra. They saw the perfect bride. They saw a woman blessed by the moon goddess, mated to the Alpha every girl dreamed of.
They did not see me.
They did not see the fear that had wrapped itself around my ribs like a tightening chain. They did not see the panic that crawled beneath my skin every time I imagined what would happen when Chase finally saw my face.
I stayed close to the wall as the celebrations went on, letting Chase handle most of the attention. He seemed to sense my discomfort and stayed within reach, but he did not question my silence. Not yet.
Every time someone approached my parents to ask why the maid of honor had gone missing before the ceremony, my mother stepped in quickly with a soft smile and a rehearsed excuse.
“Cassandra had a small emergency to handle. She will be back shortly.”
“Cassandra is fine. Just a minor issue with her dress earlier.”
“She is with the wedding planners. Thank you for your concern.”
Lie after lie, her voice steady, her back stiff, her eyes constantly searching the room for any sign of the daughter who had abandoned her own future.
My father said less. He simply nodded, lips pressed tight, jaw clenched so hard the veins near his temples looked ready to burst. He was furious. Ashamed. Worried. But more than anything, he was desperate to maintain dignity.
I wished I could disappear. I wished the floor would open and swallow me whole. I wished none of this had happened. I wished Cassandra would walk in, take my place, and spare me the humiliation that was coming.
But she never came.
Not during the dinner blessings.
Not during the toasts.
Not during the speeches.
Not during the final dance.
As the night edged closer to its end, a heavy coldness settled in my stomach.
Cassandra was gone.
Truly gone.
And I was running out of time.
The veil would have to come off tonight.
The truth would be revealed.
And Chase would destroy me.
When the music finally faded and the crowd began to leave, I felt a sweeping wave of dread wash over me. Chase stood straighter, more dangerous, more collected. The kind of calm that came right before a storm.
My parents approached me, their smiles forced.
“You did well,” my mother whispered. “You held the family together.”
Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the truth her mask tried to hide.
“I am sorry,” I whispered back, guilt burning my chest. “I wish I knew where she is.”
My father placed a hand on my shoulder. He rarely showed affection. Tonight he did not truly show it either, but the gesture was enough to deepen the ache inside me.
“Go with your husband,” he said quietly. “We will continue the search.”
I nodded, but my throat was too tight to speak. I hugged my mother one last time, breathing in her familiar scent. It made me feel like a child again, lost and frightened.
Then I turned to face the unknown.
The moment I stepped away from my parents, two maidens approached me with gentle smiles. They bowed slightly.
“Luna, we will take you to the Alpha’s chamber.”
The title hit me like a blow.
Luna.
Chase’s Luna.
Cassandra’s title, not mine.
I followed them silently through the grand corridors of the mansion. The air grew colder the deeper we walked. Torches lined the walls, flickering softly, casting shifting shadows that reminded me I was walking toward my own doom.
The maidens opened a pair of tall wooden doors carved with the crest of the Silverfang pack. A massive chamber lay beyond, lit by warm lanterns and a glowing fireplace on the far wall. The bed was enormous, its silver sheets shimmering like woven moonlight.
I had never felt so out of place in my life.
“Please sit,” one of the maidens said softly.
I obeyed, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. The veil still covered my face, and I refused to touch it. My heartbeat pounded so fast I felt lightheaded.
The maidens helped remove the heavy jewelry from my wrists and neck, then adjusted the veil so it rested gracefully over my shoulders.
“You look beautiful,” one whispered. “The Alpha is very lucky.”
Her words sliced through me.
When they finally left, the chamber door closing behind them, the silence felt suffocating.
My heart thudded painfully. The room felt too large, too warm, too intimate. I could hear the crackle of the fire. I could hear my own shallow breaths.
And then I heard footsteps.
Heavy. Steady. Confident.
I froze.
The door opened.
Chase entered.
He did not rush. He did not slam the door. He did not speak. But every step he took toward me made the air grow thicker, heavier. His presence filled the room like a storm cloud settling overhead.
I kept my gaze lowered. I could not look at him. I could not breathe properly. My hands trembled in my lap.
His footsteps stopped just a few steps in front of me.
The silence felt like a blade pressed to my throat.
Then I felt it.
His fingers brushing the edge of my veil.
No.
No. No. No.
I gripped the fabric tightly, as if my trembling hands could hold onto the last seconds before everything fell apart.
But it was pointless.
Chase lifted the veil.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Without hesitation.
The fabric rose from my face, light as a whisper, until it floated behind me in a soft fall.
My breath stopped.
I could not look up. I stared at my lap, my chest rising and falling too quickly. My hair framed my cheeks. My fingers curled so tightly they hurt.
The silence deepened.
Chase did not say anything for several seconds.
Those seconds felt like hours.
Then he spoke.
His voice was low.
Cold.
Controlled.
And full of something I could not fully name.
“Now give me a good reason why I ended up married to you and where is my bride?”
- Writer
