Bound Bride of the Red Fang

“Don't slouch," the soldier snapped, yanking the veil tighter over Vera's face. “You're a bride, not a corpse." Vera said nothing. The silver cuffs on her wrists bit into her skin with every jolt of the carriage. Outside, thunder rolled across the prairie like a dying beast, and villagers scattered from the roadside, whispering. “She's cursed. Look at her eyes—" “She's not the real Aelia." “The Redfangs won't be fooled." Vera closed her eyes. One heartbeat. Two. Three. She counted them like rosary beads, a ritual to keep the fear from spilling over. Across from her, an old priestess clutched a bone talisman. “The union will bring balance," she intoned, voice dry as parchment. “The goddess sees sacrifice." “The goddess sees fools," Vera murmured. The priestess stiffened. “What did you say?" “I said nothing." The carriage lurched to a stop. “Make her stand," barked a guard. Hands dragged Vera from the carriage and shoved her forward. The citadel loomed ahead—black stone, jagged towers, crimson banners flapping like torn throats. On the steps stood the Alpha: Layton Redfang. He wore blood‑red armor, every plate carved with snarling wolves. His face was expressionless, cold as the steel teeth on his pauldrons. His gaze didn't even reach her eyes. “She's here," said the captain. Layton didn't blink. “Get it over with." The priestess stepped forward, trembling. “Do you, Lord Redfang, take this daughter of noble house—" “Do it properly," a noble muttered behind him. “Call her Aelia." Layton's jaw tightened. “Fine. Do you, Aelia of Cangyuan, swear loyalty to the Redfang Pack?" Vera's voice was low. “I swear to survive." Gasps rippled through the crowd. “That's not the vow," the priestess hissed. Layton looked at Vera for the first time then, his pale gray eyes sharp like frostbite. “Say the words." “No." The air stilled. A soldier stepped forward. “Shall I—" “No," Layton said, holding up a hand. “Let her finish." Vera raised her chin. “If the gods demanded this union, they should've shown up themselves." The priestess paled. “Blasphemy—" Layton laughed once, a bitter sound. “Interesting." Thunder cracked. Lightning licked the edge of the sky, illuminating the bone altar where their hands were bound in red thread. The priestess muttered the final incantation anyway, her fingers trembling. “It is done," she whispered. Layton leaned close to Vera, his breath cold on her cheek. “You'll regret not running." “I tried," she replied evenly. His eyes narrowed. “Not hard enough." He turned and walked away. Vera followed, flanked by guards. Inside the citadel, stone corridors swallowed sound. The crowd's cheers faded behind them, replaced by the groan of heavy doors and the clink of metal restraints. A young soldier glanced at her nervously. “Her eyes… they really are—" “Shut up," barked the captain. “She's not your problem anymore." In the chapel, a bell tolled once, hollow and final. “You know what they say about Redfang weddings," the priestess said to no one. “They end in war." Later, Vera sat alone in a stone chamber. Her veil lay crumpled on the floor. Through the tiny window, lightning split the night sky like a broken oath. The door creaked open. Layton entered, flanked by his lieutenant—tall, scarred, and unimpressed. “She's not Aelia," the lieutenant said immediately. “I know," Layton replied. “Want me to deal with her?" “Not yet." Vera stood slowly. “You married me anyway." “I married the title," Layton said. “You were just wrapped in it." “Then unwrap me." He stepped closer, eyes sharp. “What's your name?" “You already said it." “I want your real one." “Then ask like you mean it." Silence. The lieutenant scoffed. “This is pointless. She's useless." Vera's lips twitched. “You haven't seen me angry yet." Layton reached out suddenly, slicing off a lock of her hair with his dagger. “You afraid now?" Vera's pupils slit, black and glinting. “Are you?" The temperature in the room seemed to drop. “Interesting," Layton muttered. “Put her in the high turret. Let her watch the storm. One night. If she's gone by morning, good riddance." “And if I stay?" Vera asked. “Then we'll see what curses are worth."