Claimed by My Beastly Husband

Chapter 2 – Shackled by Vows

The church bells tolled like a dirge.

Seraphina stood in front of the tall gilded mirror, her reflection framed in ivory silk and delicate lace. The gown was exquisite, the kind a girl might have dreamed of since childhood. But as she stared at the bride staring back at her, she felt none of the joy such finery should bring. Her hands trembled as they clutched the bouquet of pale roses, and the veil that framed her face felt less like adornment and more like a shroud.

Her mother adjusted the hem of the gown, fussing with unnecessary detail to avoid Seraphina’s eyes. “Hold your head high,” Lady Whitmore instructed firmly. “Whatever your feelings, today must go without flaw.”

“My feelings?” Seraphina’s laugh was bitter, hollow. “You mean my objections.”

Her mother’s hands stilled for the briefest moment, then straightened the veil with a decisive tug. “You are doing this for the family. Remember that.”

Seraphina bit back the retort rising in her throat. She wanted to scream, to tear the gown apart and run barefoot into the streets. Instead, she stood motionless as the heavy doors of the chapel creaked open. The muted hum of voices stilled, and she knew—Kael Arden had arrived.

The ceremony blurred.

The scent of incense hung thick in the air as she walked the aisle, her father’s arm firm and unyielding against hers. The pews were filled with faces she recognized—nobles, businessmen, strangers who whispered behind gloved hands. To them, she was a pawn moving into place, the bride of the Beast.

And there he stood at the altar.

Kael Arden.

Tall, imposing, dressed in black tailored to his formidable frame. His presence swallowed the room, a storm contained within a man. His eyes locked on her as she approached, dark and intense, making her knees weak with dread—or was it something else, something unspoken that she refused to name?

She reached the altar, her throat dry. Her father released her hand, and for one fleeting second, she felt the sharp sting of betrayal.

The priest’s words flowed, but Seraphina heard them as though through water. Promises. Vows. The sanctity of marriage. Her lips pressed tight, refusing to form the responses demanded of her.

“Do you, Seraphina Whitmore, take Kael Arden as your lawful husband…?”

The silence stretched. Gasps rippled through the audience. Her mother’s eyes blazed with warning.

Seraphina’s heart pounded. No. She wanted to say no. Every fiber of her being screamed it.

But then her gaze fell on her father’s ashen face, the weight of despair in his eyes. She thought of the creditors, the whispered threats, the destruction that loomed over them. She was the shield. The sacrifice.

Her lips parted. “I do,” she whispered, barely audible, but enough.

The priest nodded and turned to Kael. “And do you, Kael Arden, take Seraphina Whitmore as your lawful wife…?”

Kael’s voice carried through the chapel, low and commanding. “I do.”

It was not a vow. It was a claim.

When the rings were exchanged, his fingers brushed hers—rough, warm, steady. The simple band slid onto her trembling hand, sealing the shackles she could never remove.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Seraphina stiffened as Kael’s hand lifted her veil. For a heartbeat, the world stilled. His eyes held hers—stormy, unreadable—before his lips brushed hers in a kiss that was firm, brief, but final. A mark of possession before the world.

The applause was polite, scattered. Seraphina barely heard it over the roaring in her ears.

The reception was opulent, yet suffocating. Glittering chandeliers reflected off crystal glasses, laughter and conversation swirled, but all Seraphina could feel was the weight of Kael’s presence beside her.

He spoke little, his attention sharp and unnerving whenever it turned toward her. Guests approached with forced smiles and veiled curiosity, bowing low before the man they feared and whispering praise for the bride who dared stand at his side.

Seraphina smiled where she was expected, answered where she had to, but inside she was screaming. Every glance reminded her: she was no longer her own.

At last, when the festivities waned and shadows deepened, Kael leaned close. His voice brushed against her ear, low and commanding. “It’s time.”

Her heart stumbled. “Time?”

His gaze slid to hers, dark and unyielding. “To leave. You are mine now.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine—not entirely from fear.

The carriage ride to his estate was cloaked in silence. Seraphina kept her eyes fixed on the moonlit road beyond the window, refusing to look at him. But even without glancing, she felt him—every breath, every shift of his powerful frame beside her.

At last, she spoke, her voice a sharp whisper. “You’ve taken everything from me.”

Kael’s answer was calm, unflinching. “I’ve taken nothing you didn’t already give.”

Her head snapped toward him, fury sparking. “I didn’t give you anything.”

He leaned back in his seat, eyes glinting. “You gave me your vow.”

Her chest tightened. Shackled. That was what she was. Bound by vows not spoken from love, but from desperation, from duty twisted into chains.

And yet, as the carriage rattled onward into the night, a dangerous truth unsettled her. Beneath her rage and sorrow, her pulse raced—not just from dread, but from something else entirely. Something she dared not name.

The gates of Kael’s estate loomed ahead, iron and stone rising like a fortress against the night sky. Shadows clung to its walls, secrets hidden in every corner. It was to be her new home, her prison, and perhaps—her undoing.

Seraphina gripped the seat, steeling herself. She would not break. She would not surrender easily.

But as Kael offered his hand to help her down, his gaze steady and consuming, she wondered if resistance would be enough.

For the vows had been spoken, the shackles sealed.

And she belonged to the Beast.