The Lycan Prince’s Silent bride

My Wife

Alaric’s POV

The horse slowed, its hooves crunched against loose gravel, dry leaves, and the scent of pine and smoke stung the air.

It was almost morning and I could finally see the shadow of the wooden gates rising like jagged teeth up ahead.

We had arrived.

And I was positive that someone had already spotted us..

I glanced down at the fragile weight in my arms. She was still tucked against me, her breathing steady despite the bruises she carried. Even unconscious, she clung to me as if her body had already decided I was safer than the world outside, like a magnet.. Disgusting.

A bit foolish and dangerous if you ask me. And yet… a strange part of me liked the weight of her there.

“Wake up,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. My arm shifted around her waist, giving her a light shake.

Her lashes fluttered for a moment, her blue eyes cracked open. And for a moment she looked disoriented, lost between her dreamland and waking up to reality, until her gaze finally found mine and for a second.. I felt… No.

“We’ve arrived,” I coldly muttered, as I loosened my hold on her just enough so she could sit upright.

And as if on cue, shadows detached themselves from the trees; others came out from the gates… men and women approached us with ugly and annoying smiles painted on their faces, though none reached their eyes.

Aside from being scared of me… Their stares were quick, curious, suspicious. Lycan had a tendency of not knowing how to hide their judgment.

Especially the women.. Their eyes swept over me with a mix of reverence and hunger like they were devouring me even with my clothes on, but when they landed on her.. the little human clinging to my chest.. their smiles faltered, their teeth flashed not in warmth but warning.

I felt her stiffen against me, her small hands clutched the blanket I’d wrapped her in.

My jaw flexed in as I stared at their faces..

Finally something interesting to look at..

Let them look.. Let them choke on their shock.

I swung down from the horse in one fluid motion, my boots hit the dirt with a dull thud and dust rose, curling around me. She blinked at me, hesitating for a moment as if asking me what was wrong with the people, before I placed my hands at her tiny waist and lifted her down.

Her feet barely touched the ground before the air shifted.

The Pack Leader arrived,Ronan.

Broad-shouldered, thick-bearded, every inch the pack head trying too hard to look regal in his furs.

His dark and sharp eyes narrowed when they landed on me… typical, but it was the way they lingered on her that made my beast stir.

He looked too long.. Far too long.

I felt Zorrak pace beneath my skin, claws scratching, begging to be let loose. ’Can we rip his eyes out.. it won’t take long.’

As usual I ignored the growl in my chest, though my hand itched to wrap around my sword and off with his bearded coconut shaped head . Instead, I let my lips curl into a smirk… Cold… Controlled and calculated . The mask of the cold Prince they all feared and ran away from.

My favorite kind of expression.

“Ronan,” I greeted lazily, as though I had not just simply strolled into his den unannounced but then again when have I ever arrived at a place announced.

“You’re late.” I declared

He chuckled, bowing stiffly. “My Prince... I came as soon as word reached us of your arrival at the gate.” His eyes flicked once more toward her before he added, with a hint of disbelief, “And it seems the rumors weren’t rumors after all… You truly did marry from the wolves.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd like wind through dry leaves not that it mattered. But.. Their annoying mutters rose with snippets of shock, and whispers of betrayal.

Wolves and Lycans were never meant to be bound, at least not like this.

I tilted my head, letting the smirk deepen. “I don’t deal in rumors, Ronan… Only facts and the fact here is that..” I let my hand tighten at Annalise’s side, possessive and deliberate, sure enough to make a strong statement . “She is mine now.. She is my wife, not just one of them.”

The silence that followed was absolute and sweet. I could almost taste their discomfort in the air. It was bitter yet delicious, just as I liked.

Beside me, the girl flinched slightly at the declaration.

She quickly lowered her gaze, her fingers twitched as though unsure of what to do. Then, as if driven by instinct.. or perhaps her desperate need to please and be a good girl.. she almost bent at the waist in a bow pose.

But I caught her wrist before she could stupidly finish. My grip was firm and unyielding.

“Don’t,” I said, my voice low enough for only her and the closest lycans to hear.

She glanced up at me, confusion swirling round in her cute blue eyes.

“You do not bow to him.. You do not now to anyone except me,” I said louder now, so the watching gossipers of a crowd would catch every sine word I said. “Your rank is above his... He bows to you.”

“Isn’t that right.. Ronan?”

The gasp that followed was louder this time. Even Ronan froze, his lips tightening in something dangerously close to insult.

I could see how his pride coiled and bristled in anger and humiliation, but he swallowed it well, forcing a tight smile on his ugly face.

“As you command, my Prince.”

And he bowed.

Not to me… To her.

Her breath hitched, her shoulders went stiff as though she wasn’t sure if the ground beneath her was real anymore.

Her wide blue eyes darted from his bent head back to me, silently asking if this was some cruel joke or if it was real but of course I understood her confusion not that it mattered to me.

This was a matter of my pride, not hers.

It wasn't a joke. I wanted them all to see it… To choke on it… To understand that this frail little girl was under my shadow… And my shadow was law.

Ronan straightened at last, forcing out words that dripped with formality and a hint of disdain. “Welcome, Prince Alaric. Welcome, Princess.”

“Princess.”

The crowd echoed it softly, uneasily, their voices weaving between disbelief and reluctant acceptance. Their eyes never left her, suspicion burning holes through her veil, but none dared speak against me.

Zorrak rumbled his approval deep in my chest. ‘Yes.. Let them know she’s untouchable.’

But my jaw tightened. Because beneath the smirk, beneath the cold satisfaction, something twisted uncomfortably in my chest.

Claiming her publicly wasn’t just for show.. it had an invisible weight or should I say.. Chains. And the more I wrapped them around her, the more I wondered who was really being bound.

I masked the thought quickly, straightening to tower over Ronan as I casually spoke, “Enough staring… Your people look starved for entertainment. I assume you’ve prepared for my arrival even though you weren’t prepared?”

Ronan forced another smile looking like someone who was being remote controlled to go against his wish. “Of course, my Prince. A feast surely awaits. We are honored by your graceful unexpected presence.”

“Good,” I drawled, wrapping my arm more securely around the girl, and steering her forward. “Then do not keep your Prince waiting now. That would feel wrong and absurd, don't you think?.”

“Yes your highness… please follow me. A bath has been prepared, the feast begins once you’re ready” he calmly replied as he walked in front of us.

The crowd parted like water before us. Whispers followed with every step we took, daggers wrapped in silk, but none dared raise them openly.

I walked with her at my side, her small form half-hidden by my cloak, her steps uncertain but steady.

And though I kept my smirk fixed firmly in place, inside me a war still raged.. between the man who saw her as an unwanted liability, and the beast who had already decided she was his to claim.