Bride Of The Cruel Lycan

The party

JULIETTE

Waking up alone, I stare at the ceiling for a few moments, willing myself to move. The silence in the room feels suffocating, pressing against my chest like an invisible weight. But lying here won’t change anything. So, with a deep breath, I push the covers away and step out of bed.

The floor is cold beneath my feet as I make my way to the adjoining bathroom. Warm water cascades over my skin, washing away the stiffness from sleep. But no amount of scrubbing can rid me of the emptiness settling in my chest. By the time I step out, I feel more awake, though my mind is still clouded with thoughts I don’t want to acknowledge.

I dress quickly, choosing a soft blue gown. Simple, yet elegant. It fits my role well enough. My hands smooth down the fabric as I glance at my reflection in the mirror. My face looks calm, composed—like I have everything under control. Like I belong here.

It’s a lie.

Swallowing hard, I turn away and make my way downstairs.

The dining hall is already set. A long table stretches before me, covered with silverware and fine plates. The scent of freshly baked bread and sweet syrup lingers in the air. A maid scurries in, bowing slightly before placing a plate in front of me.

“Would you like anything else, madam?” she asks, voice polite but hesitant.

I shake my head. “This is fine.”

She nods before stepping back, leaving me with an array of choices. There are fruits, pastries, eggs cooked in different styles, but my appetite is dull. After a moment of indecision, I settle for French toast and some orange juice. The taste is pleasant enough, but eating feels like a chore.

I’m barely halfway through my meal when the doors open. I straighten instinctively as the Queen Regent strides into the hall.

She carries herself with the grace of someone who knows her power, her every movement deliberate. Her piercing gaze settles on me as she approaches, and I quickly wipe my mouth, placing my fork down.

“Good morning, Juliette,” she says smoothly, taking a seat across from me.

“Good morning, Your Majesty.”

Her lips curve slightly, though there is little warmth in her expression. “I trust you are adjusting well to your new life.”

I hesitate, just for a second. The truth sits heavily on my tongue—that my marriage is doomed, that I feel more like a prisoner than a wife. That I haven’t seen Kaelan since last night, and I don’t know if he even cares.

But I swallow it all down, forcing a polite smile onto my face. “Yes, everything is wonderful.”

She studies me for a moment, as if she can see right through the lie. But then she nods. “Good.”

A pause. Then she continues, “There will be a celebration this evening to commemorate your union with Kaelan. The kingdom expects to see their future queen by his side.”

My stomach twists, but I nod again. “Of course.”

“The dressmakers will be here shortly to take your measurements. I trust you’ll cooperate.”

“I will.”

She offers one last assessing glance before rising. “Enjoy the rest of your morning.”

With that, she glides out of the hall, leaving me alone once again.

The rest of the day is a blur.

The dressmakers arrive as promised, fluttering around me as they take measurements and discuss fabrics. Servants rush in and out, arranging decorations, finalizing preparations. Everything is meticulously planned, down to the smallest detail.

And through it all, Kaelan is nowhere to be seen.

By the time evening arrives, exhaustion weighs heavy on me. Yet, as the maids fuss over my appearance, fixing my hair and carefully applying my makeup, I force myself to sit still.

Finally, the dress is slipped over my frame. A deep red, shimmering with sequins, hugging my waist and accentuating my curves. It’s breathtaking.

I stare at my reflection, momentarily caught off guard by the woman in the mirror. She looks regal. Confident. A perfect queen-to-be.

And yet, she is only pretending.

The guests begin arriving soon after, the grand hall filling with nobles and dignitaries. Laughter and music weave through the air, the scent of expensive perfumes lingering as people mingle.

Then, a hush falls over the room.

I don’t have to look to know why.

Kaelan is here.

I keep my eyes forward as he is wheeled in, his presence commanding even without standing. He wears a fitted black shirt, emphasizing his toned body. Strong. Unyielding.

He is brought to my side, and before I can react, his hand slips into mine. His touch is warm, familiar, dangerous. He looks up at me, smiling as if everything is perfect.

For a second, I falter.

But then I remember.

Pretending is a game he knows how to play too well.

So, I play along. I smile down at him, letting my mask settle in place. If this is the way my life is going to be now, then I will give them the best performance they’ve ever seen.

We move from guest to guest, greeting each one with the grace expected of us. Kaelan plays his role flawlessly, charming and composed. His voice is smooth, his smiles perfectly timed.

And I have to remind myself—this man beside me is not who he pretends to be.

Then, I see them.

My father and stepmother.

I smile, ready to greet them, but my breath catches as I notice the couple behind them.

Hand in hand, are Jane and Evan.