Chapter1
1072 Words
Hadassah sat on her vanity, the soft glow of the setting sun spilling into her room. The gilded edges of her mirror caught the light, casting a golden hue over the delicate makeup she applied to her face. Her green eyes stared back at her reflection, but they looked hollow—detached from the girl she used to be. Today should have been a happy day; however, the weight of expectation pressed against her soul like a cage of iron.
“Hadassah, you've got beautiful skin,” Clara remarked, stepping into the doorway of her sister's room and stopping. Clara’s auburn curls framed her sharp features, and her voice carried the sweet, syrupy tone she used when she wanted something.
Hadassah turned slightly, offering a weak smile. “Thanks, Clara.”
As Clara walked into the room, her eyes skimmed across Hadassah's dress—a long, chiffon, light-blue ballgown with silver thread. “That dress flatters you,” Clara said, but the envy underlying her remark was heavy. “I always assumed Victor would choose someone better, but you pull it off.”
Hadassah clenched her jaw. Clara always found a way to cut her down, even when pretending to compliment her. “Victor didn't pick me,” Hadassah answered in a low voice, clutching the edge of the vanity. “Father arranged it.”
Clara’s smile faltered, but she recovered quickly. “Right. Of course. Well, don’t forget how lucky you are. Victor is the Beta; all the girls in the pack hope for a man like that.”
Hadassah didn’t respond. She knew Clara had once dreamed of Victor herself. The longing in Clara’s voice only confirmed it.
A sudden knock at the door broke the tension. “Girls, the royal carriage is here!” their mother called from downstairs.
Clara smirked. “Don’t keep them waiting, Hadassah. Wouldn’t want to disappoint Father.”
Hadassah rose, smoothing the skirts of her gown. Her hands trembled slightly as she squeezed them into fists to avoid falling forward onto the ground. As she descended the imposing staircase, her mother, Lila, scooped her into an embrace that felt more performative than heartfelt—at very least almost.
“You look perfect,” Lila whispered, but her tone was cold. She barely opened her lips as she continued, “This is for us, for the family. Don’t ruin this for us.”
Hadassah nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. The royal carriage waited outside, its polished black exterior gleaming under the evening sun. Two guards stood at attention by the horses' side, faces expressionless.
Reaching the carriage door, Hadassah looked back at Clara, who was already standing in the doorway with a smirk. For a moment, Hadassah felt an overwhelming urge to call off the engagement—to tell her father that Victor deserved someone who truly loved him—and that someone was Clara.
But she couldn’t—not without bringing shame on her family.
The trip was long; however, it was silent at the house of the Black Ridge pack's palace. Hadassah stared out of the window, her thoughts tangled in a web of doubt and resignation. She was unaware that the carriage had come to a standstill and that the porters were pushing her out by opening the door.
The palace stood waiting in the distance—a majestic building of stone with walls bathed in the warm light of the setting sun. A maid greeted her with a curtsy before escorting her inside. Hadassah's heels echoed on the marble floor as she was led to a guest room with luxurious fixtures.
Not long after she settled in, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Hadassah called, smoothing her dress.
Victor stepped inside, his tall frame filling the doorway. His dark hair was well-groomed and so too were his fine lines—his countenance unreadable.
“Hadassah,” he greeted formally.
“Victor,” she replied, rising to her feet.
They exchanged pleasantries; their conversation was stilted and polite. Victor seemed distracted, his gaze drifting toward the window. Hadassah felt a little heartache—this was the groom she was to marry but felt no connection between them.
Minutes later, Victor stood up and walked away, leaving Hadassah standing alone again. Feeling restless, she decided to explore the palace grounds. She arrived at the garden; lush foliage bathed in lantern light surrounded her. The aroma of roses and jasmine filled the air and offered a brief respite.
As she moved further in, she saw a man at the edge of the garden—a tall figure with broad shoulders and silver hair that flashed in the sun. His back was to her; however, an aura of authority surrounded him that made her pause.
“Are you lost?” he asked, his deep voice cutting through the silence.
Hadassah straightened her posture. “No—just exploring.”
He turned to face her; she was surprised by his intense blue eyes that held a depth unsettling enough to make her feel exposed. “It’s private,” he explained evenly but resolutely.
Hadassah bristled. “I wasn’t aware; perhaps you should put up signs.”
The corner of his mouth twitched as if preventing a smile. “Perhaps you should ask permission before wandering into places you don’t belong.”
Hadassah crossed her arms defiantly. “Do you know who I am? I’m the soon-to-be wife of Victor—the Beta of my pack. You should treat me with more respect.”
His complexion clouded for a second before a grin crept across his features. “Is that so? My apologies then—future Beta’s wife. Next time I’ll make sure to roll out the red carpet.”
Hadassah snorted—not sure whether he was teasing or meant it seriously. Before she could respond further, a butler appeared and bowed to him. “Alpha Evan! You’re needed in the council chamber.”
Hadassah’s breath caught—Alpha? This man was Alpha of the Black Ridge pack? Heat rushed to her cheeks as realization dawned on her.
Evan looked at Hadassah one last time before walking off; his smirk lingered in her mind long after he left for the palace.
Hadassah stood frozen in the garden; for once in a long while she felt alive—but it wasn’t because of Victor—it was because of Evan.
- Writer
