The Demon Alpha's Songbird

Lyra's POV The reflection staring back at me didn't look like me. Her lips were tinted rose, her golden hair woven into braids pinned with pearls. The silver lace gown shimmered every time I breathed, hugging my body as my hands trembled in my lap, betraying the calm expression I tried so hard to wear. "Stop fidgeting," Mother scolded gently from behind me, smoothing the front of my dress. "You'll wrinkle it before you even make it to the altar." Darcelle laughed softly, busy adjusting the veil. "Let her. Rowan won't even notice the dress once he sees her face. The poor man might faint." I smiled shyly at my reflection. "You think so?" "I know so," Darcelle said, giving my shoulder a playful squeeze. "You're the most beautiful bride in all of Silverkeep. Every girl will be green with envy." Mother chuckled then. "And after tonight, my darling daughter will finally become Luna of the Blood Moon Pack. Soon enough, you'll be giving me grandpups to spoil." I nearly choked on my own breath. "Mother!" She waved her hand like it was the most casual topic in the world. "What? It's true. Every mating starts with a wedding and ends with babies. That's how it has always been." My cheeks burned at the thought of having babies that would run around I and Rowan's little home. It was too early for such a thought as we were not married yet, but still. "Rowan has never mentioned wanting children," Darcelle paused behind me, her fingers stilling in my hair. "He hasn't?" I shook my head. Every time I brought it up, he either laughed it off or changed the subject, saying we should focus on the ceremony first. I often agreed because that was more important. But now the ceremony was near, I didn't know what other excuse he would come up with. "Maybe he’s nervous, dear." Mother said, laughing softly, though it sounded a little too forced. "Men get cold feet too, even if they don't show it. Rowan adores you. He's just waiting for the right time." I nodded, pretending her words comforted me. Rowan adored me. That's what everyone said. And that's what I had to believe. "They're calling for me," Mother said, glancing towards the door as a servant knocked softly. "I'll make sure the guests are settled. You, my love, stay right here and try not to faint before the ceremony." After kissing my forehead, she swept out of the room. Now it was just me and Darcelle. She leaned against the table with her arms crossed, watching as the maids added the final touches to my hair. I smiled to myself, thinking how lucky I was to have her as a friend. Between the two of us, she was always the calm one, the one who never got jealous or worried about anything. Not that I was the jealous type, but unlike her, I couldn't hide my feelings. I wore my heart on my sleeve and got affected by the smallest things. When the maids finally left, I stood and turned toward the full-length mirror. For a moment, I just stared. Was that really me? The shy girl who used to chase fireflies by the river? The same one Rowan once rescued from falling off a tree branch? I looked like a stranger wrapped in lace and dreams. Exhaling softly, I placed a hand over my racing heart. "I can't believe this day finally came." Darcelle came to stand beside me, her reflection appearing just over my shoulder. Of course, she was taller, beautiful, and everything. "You deserve it," She said. "You deserve him." I turned to her and smiled warmly. "You've been such a good friend, Darcelle. I don't know what I would have done without you all these years. You're the one who introduced me to Rowan, remember?" "Oh, I remember. He wouldn't stop staring at you on the first day," I smiled softly, too caught up in the moment, and too caught up in everything finally falling into place. Rowan Thorne may not have been my dream man from the start, but he was definitely going to be in a few hours. "Thank you," I said softly. "For always being there for me. For being happy for me." Darcelle looked away quickly, pretending to fix a petal that had fallen from the bouquet. She looked nervous, and I completely understood. If our roles were reversed, I'd probably be a crying, sobbing mess, watching my best friend get married to her beloved mate. "Of course," she said. "Always." Something about the way she said it felt odd, but I brushed it off. Today wasn't about doubts. It was about love, and beginnings, and promises. A knock came at the door, and Mother's voice floated in. "Lyra, it's time!" My heart fluttered wildly. Darcelle picked up my bouquet of white roses and handed it to me, her fingers brushing mine. "You'll be perfect," she murmured, though her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thank you," I whispered, clutching the flowers tightly. Mother smiled proudly from the doorway, tears glistening in her eyes. "My beautiful girl," she breathed. "Let's not keep your mate waiting." And with that, I followed her out, my heart pounding like a drum and my veil trailing behind me. The hall was glowing with silver lanterns and white petals scattered across the stone floor. When the doors opened, every head turned, and every gaze fell on me. I froze. Rows of wolves dressed in their finest stood in silent awe and I could almost feel their thoughts pressing against my skin—the Princess of Silverkeep, finally becoming Luna. Mother gave my hand a gentle squeeze and whispered, "Breathe," I nodded, clutching the bouquet tighter as my heart refused to slow down. And then I saw him. Rowan stood at the end of the aisle, tall and proud in his ceremonial coat of black and gold. His dark hair was brushed back neatly and his green eyes were locked on me. The same eyes that used to light up when we would sneak out to the river as teenagers. He smiled when he saw me. It was small and almost rehearsed, still, it was enough to make my chest ache. With a smile of my own, I walked slowly toward him, my veil brushing the ground as the murmurs began to fade. When I reached him, he held out his hand. "You look beautiful," "Thank you," I breathed, my lips trembling into a nervous smile. "You don't look so bad yourself." The priest began the ceremony and I tried to focus, but my thoughts kept drifting. This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life so why did it feel like I was standing in the middle of a dream I wasn't sure was mine? As if reading my thoughts, Rowan brushed the back of my hand with his thumb as the priest spoke of unity and devotion. I looked up at him, searching his face for something—warmth, excitement, love—but all I found was calm politeness. It was the same look he wore during every pack meeting and every formal occasion. When the time came for me to sing before the mating ritual began, the crowd leaned forward with anticipation. My song was a Silverkeep tradition, a siren's blessing for love, healing, and peace. I wasn't just the Alpha's daughter, I was a rare half-blood—wolf by birth and siren by fate. My voice could calm storms, soothe rage, and, if I willed it, command hearts. But today, it was meant only to heal and bind what love had already chosen. Father gave a proud nod and mother smiled tearfully from her seat, clasping her hands to her chest. Rowan stepped back slightly, letting me take the center. "They've waited all night to hear your voice," He murmured. "Don't keep them waiting too long." I nodded, lifting my chin. As the first notes left my lips, the hall went silent. My soft and smooth voice echoed through the hall, filling every corner, wrapping around the crowd, and touching hearts and memories. I had sung before many times, but never like this. This time, I sang not for my Father, or the pack, or duty. I sang for the little girl who used to believe in fairytales. For the woman who hoped love would set her free. Wolves bowed their heads, overcome by emotion and even Rowan's expression softened. When the final note faded, a hush lingered in the air. Then applause filled the room. I smiled and took a step back, my heart light with relief. It was done. But that was when the ground trembled. A low, deep rumble rolled through the hall, silencing the applause. The candles flickered wildly, and a cold gust swept in from the grand doors. At first, I thought it was a storm. But when the doors burst open with a crash loud enough to shake the floor, I realized it was something else entirely. The scent of ash and metal filled the air as shadows crawled along the walls like living things. And from the smoke beyond the threshold stepped a man. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and looked like the embodiment of darkness itself. His presence sucked the air out of the room as the crowd fell silent. Some gasped and some backed away, but I remained rooted to the spot, staring at the man like my life depended on it. "Who dares—" Father began, rising from his seat as if answering my question. But the stranger's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. Deep, rough, and commanding. "I am Kael Dravon of the Shadowlands. I've come for the girl." Every sound in the hall died at once. "The girl?" Father growled, his tone sharp. "You mean my daughter, the future Luna of Silverkeep?" Kael's gaze turned to me and for a moment, the entire world stopped moving. His eyes, dark and glowing like fire beneath smoke, locked onto mine. "Yes," he said simply. "Her." And just like that, my bouquet slipped from my hands and the petals scattered across the floor.