Bride For The Feral Alpha

#7: The Famous Feywins

Quinn Feywin had somehow wound up as a toy.

Not just any toy. One to be paraded around to a pack.

“Yes, Father. We should leave now. I still have to teach her our ways,” Lord Aubrey answered, and all of a sudden, I was reminded that I wasn’t even Quinn Feywin anymore. I was now Quinn Aubrey.

My father-in-law only waved a hand in the air before Lord Aubrey pulled me away like I was even less than a rag doll. To him, I was a toy. Something to parade, after all.

Were we even still in Evenmoor?

I let Lord Aubrey pull me through halls that all looked the same before we stopped in front of large, wide, brown oak doors. That was the first time he let go of my wrist since the confrontation with his father. As swiftly as possible, Lord Aubrey opened the doors, gesturing for me to get in. Once we were both in, he closed the doors behind us and let out a breath.

His hands were on his hips, his foot tapped incessantly against the floorboards, and his eyes were on anything else but me.

In situations like this, I would usually be compelled to talk, but after hearing that I would be paraded around, it seemed no words were willing to escape.

So I stood in place, watching him and taking my time to study the room, which appeared as though it belonged to the King or Prince of this castle.

The room was massive. It could have easily been three times the size of my chamber at home. A four-poster bed dominated one wall, draped in deep burgundy. Weapons lined another wall: swords, daggers, things I couldn’t name. A desk sat by the window, covered in papers and maps.

I was standing in his space, learning I might die here.

Gears shifted in my mind, and I was forced to recall that Lords didn’t usually reside in castles. Sure, they had grand estates, but a castle was overdoing it.

I had married a—

I had married a Monster Prince? Prince Monster Aubrey?

“Ask the questions,” Lord Aubrey finally ended the silence, his eyes slowly landing on me.

I swallowed.

“When do I die?”

My straightforwardness surprised me, and yet, I did not find myself wanting to cower or take any words back. It was inevitable. I was going to die. My name was going to be written in red in a ledger. I just needed to know when.

Lord Aubrey’s back straightened. A thick tension seeped into the room. My palms grew sweaty, and my heart lurched.

“When you fail,” he finally replied.

My throat tightened.

“Fail to do what exactly?! With everything that has happened so far, I have already failed. There is no way out of this, is there? Is that what happens to all Feywin brides? You, Aubreys, obtain them as prizes, parade them as toys, kill them, and that’s it? There is…. There is no other way.” My tongue dried with every word. I kept talking anyway.

“That is not exactly the way it goes. It was a fair trade. You greedy Feywins wanted more wealth, and at the time, when our race was near extinction, we needed females capable of breeding, and much to your family’s luck, the first Feywin was the only one capable of doing so, and so the pact began. But not everything was as rosy as our families would have hoped…” Lord Aubrey trailed off, and I watched his every movement, desperately eager for him to continue.

“Not all Feywins turned out to be breeders. The pact requires fertile Feywin blood. If you can’t conceive within five years, it means your bloodline has weakened. The magic has diluted. Your family pays a penalty for sending a defective bride. And you…” He swallowed. “You’re offered to the goddess. Your blood still carries power, even if you can’t breed. The sacrifice strengthens the pack. Ensures future fertility from other unions.”

My blood stilled.

Breeder or sacrifice. Those were my options. No escape. No “Oh, this was a mistake, you can go.” Nothing.

I’d given my virginity freely to a stranger. And now that stranger owned my womb, my life, my death. And what if I was already with child? That would make my child a monster, too. I was going to birth a monster.

And if there was no child. Suppose I couldn’t give him children. If my body failed this one test, I’d be slaughtered like livestock and fed to his goddess.

My feet forgot how to function. I stumbled backward, gripping the table.

Tears blurred my vision, and everything before me began to spin.

“You mean to tell me Mother and Father knew?” My voice cracked. “They knew I’d be breeding stock or a sacrifice, and they sent me anyway? For gold?”

“Ophelia knew?” My voice cracked even more; those last two words came out smaller than the others.

His jaw clenched. For just a moment, something shifted in his expression. It tilted between sympathy and regret, maybe. Or recognition.

“You have to be lying. Please tell me that all of this is just one big lie, and I’m getting punished for being the wayward daughter,” I pleaded.

His mouth formed a syllable, and just when I was convinced that he was going to tell me the truth. The truth that I desperately wanted to hear, a knock stopped whatever was going on between us. That was when his syllable changed, and he began spewing words I had no business hearing.

“Come in,” he announced.

The doors flew open.

Women poured in, and given their appearance, their age range ran from teenager to grandmother, all in matching blue and white uniforms. Maids. A dozen of them, carrying dresses, soaps, brushes.

Everything I’d need for another wedding, or as these people called it, a mating ritual.

My stomach dropped. “What—”

My pulse slammed against my ears. None of this felt real. Like I’d stepped into someone else’s nightmare.

This is what Lord Aubrey wanted to tell me, I was sure. I turned to him, my lips slightly parted, as breathing through my nostrils was hardly enough for me anymore.

His eyes met mine for one brief moment. Something unreadable passed across his face, leaving me with more puzzles to decipher.

Then he turned to the maids. “Prepare her for the ritual. Don’t keep my father waiting.”

“What is the mating ritual?” The words came out smaller than I intended.

“The mating ritual is… a claiming. In front of the pack. It binds you to me. To them. Makes you mine in every single way.”

“And if I refuse?”

His expression hardened. “You can’t.”

I wanted to scream. To throw something. To demand he stayed and explained everything.

But the maids were already moving toward me, and Lord Aubrey was already halfway to the door.