BE MINE: THE FAKE LUNA'S PRICE

FOUR

LILY:

My answer to Vergil is, “Yes.”

It is the heaviest yes I have said in my life, but I do not regret it one bit. Not even when the air around me feels like it could kill me from the hasty decisions. For the past twenty-four hours, there has been nothing but chaos and whispers across the pack. People are talking about the Alpha’s death, about the succession, and who would take the throne.

Vergil is unbothered as his plan is falling into place. Currently, I am at the royal palace in the south of Snow Hound, sitting in a chair surrounded by unfamiliar maids, their hands tugging and smoothing my dress or my hair. It is obvious I am not dressed for love, but for war, and the white dress could as well be black because I am walking into a funeral. I am burying my freedom and my heart for revenge and power.

I had asked Vergil earlier how many people would be at the ceremony, but he barely looked at me when he replied, “Enough to make a mark.”

Whatever that meant, I know it is not for good. As I stare at myself, I can barely recognize the woman standing in front of the mirror, and before I can tell, I am called upon to head out to my wedding, which is to take place in the small temple outside the palace.

The temple is smaller than I imagined, but it is grand because of the furnishing. It has olden pillars, stained glass, and a crescent-shaped altar carved with the Storm family crest. My heart thumps in my chest, peering into the hall, which has quite the number of guests around. I wait for Vergil, hoping he would spare me a little bit of his time from plotting his revenge, so I can tell him about the mate bond, but as he arrives, he walks ahead without waiting for me. His guards escort him while I follow behind with a maid who is supposedly my bridesmaid.

When I step into the temple, the air thins further as people rise from their seats. The whisper sweeps across the room, followed by gasps. Elena Ashburg is the first face I notice, and her face is pale, draining of every drop of blood like she’s seen a ghost.

From the look of things, they were not dressed for a wedding because everyone is seated in casual clothing. My eyes meet with Mathew, who stares at me slack-jawed, his hand forming a fist.

I take my eyes off quickly, standing in front of the altar, which has the golden statue of the goddess.

“Lily Parker,” the priest begins. “Do you come here of your own will, to join your fate to the heir of the Storm bloodline?”

My voice is steady. “Yes.”

When I say this, I look up at Vergil, but he doesn’t meet my gaze. He stares straight above my head, solidifying that this will be a loveless marriage.

“And do you, Prince Vergil Storm, accept her as yours?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

As the you may kiss the bride command comes, Vergil pulls me in, blocking our view with his back, but he doesn’t kiss me. He just stares down into my eyes, and I hear my wolf cry out, longing to be with her mate. The room goes up in applause, and as he releases me, I catch the sight of Elena storming out first while Mathew remains in place like he has seen a ghost.

The cheers are still ringing when the Kingmaker Council rises at the end of the ceremony. The lead elder steps forward with a silver-tipped staff, which he strikes on the ground to still the chattering crowd of close relatives.

“Tomorrow at first light, the coronation will be held in the central palace before the former Alpha is laid to rest,” he declares. “Prince Vergil Storm shall be crowned Alpha of the Snow Hound Pack.”

The crowd breaks into respectful applause, but all I hear is the storm in my chest. I feel lightheaded, like my body is being pulled in two directions—one toward power, the other toward grief.

I don’t wait for anyone as I walk out of the room without being noticed.

By the time I reach the room assigned to me, my chest is so tight I can’t breathe. I rip the necklace off my throat, tossing it onto the vanity table with a loud clatter. I stare at my reflection and barely recognize the woman glaring back at me. I will be Luna tomorrow, and this is what I have dreamed of, but why am I suffocating?

The door flies open, and I turn just in time to see Mathew walk in. He puts on his fake mask, rushing up to me.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts. “Lily, I swear—I didn’t mean to push you into Vergil’s hands. I can fix this. We can run.”

He grabs me, pulling me against him before I can protest. His lips crash onto mine, and I let him, allowing him to think I am buying his lousy story. Then I bite his lips so hard that his blood touches my tongue.

The pain stings hard that he pulls away with a yelp, covering his mouth while I glare at him with my chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I know you tried to kill me.” My gaze remains on him. “I know about the baby too, and I know Vergil is my mate. I just don’t know what the hell you did to him.”

He smirks, licking the blood on his lips, then he goes back to the cold and cruel Mathew I saw last night.

“You’re smart, but it won’t work.” He inches close to me. “Vergil will never love you, because he’ll never trust you.” I swallow hard at his words, trying to act unbothered, but he is cutting deep into my deepest fear.

“You’ll rot in that marriage, and the worst part? You’ll crave someone who sees you as a liability. Once he gets what he wants, you will be old news, but worse? You will never get it, because I will find a way.”

“You lie!” I hiss.

“We’ll see about that,” he chuckles, walking away while I stand there.

I try not to let his words get to me, and I pray to meet Vergil alone so I can talk to him. The moment I reach for the door handle, it swings open, and Vergil walks in with his eyes colder than ever.

Without a word, he shoves a folder against my chest.

“Sign it.”

“What?” I breathe.

“It is a marriage contract. I want your consent in writing.” He stares me down, and my hands tremble, grabbing the folder.

I flip through the pages, and the words rattle every nerve in me. My wolf cries out further as we both see the writings: No intimacy. No consummation. Public unity only. Divorce permissible after one year upon achieving succession.

My heart pounds as I glance at him.

“Vergil, you are…” I pause as his jaw ticks, and I remember Mathew’s words.

If anything, Vergil will think I am mad and this is some ploy because he doesn’t recognize me, and he has been mateless so long for his age.

“The press is outside. Or have you changed your mind about fame?” he questions in a harsh voice, and my mouth hangs open for a few more seconds before I shake my head, penning down my signature with trembling hands.

He watches with a blank face, snatching the document as soon as the last full stop is engraved in my writing. Then he snaps a hand, and a guard enters. He hands the guard the file before grabbing my hand.

“Where is your necklace?” His brow furrows as he asks. I point at it, and he orders me to wear it as it is part of the pack’s symbol worn by the wives of the Alphas.

Outside, the flashing lights of cameras blind me as reporters scream questions.

“Is this a political union or a fairy tale?”

“What do you have to say, Lily Parker, about marrying Prince Vergil instead of his brother?”

Vergil grabs one of their mics. “It was love at first sight, and I will love my wife till death.”

Liar, my wolf growls, clawing at me to let her go at him. How could he lie with a straight face?

He pulls me away from the press, creating a façade of the ever-loving husband shielding his wife. We climb into the car, and the moment the door shuts, his hand drops mine like they had met with naked fire. Then he shifts away from me, and I turn to the window, wondering if I had jumped from frying pan to fire...