Wolf's Bride

LYLA I hate the sound of wedding bells. As they rolled in the distance, I stood in front of the grand mirror, staring at the stranger reflected back at me. Layers of satin and lace clung to my body like a prison, squeezing the breath from my lungs. This wasn’t a wedding dress. It was a noose, and it was tightening around my neck. I didn’t want to be here. My fists clenched at my sides, crumpling the soft fabric. This was not my choice. This was never my choice. My wicked uncle had made sure of that. "You're doing what’s best for the family," he’d told me, his voice dripping with false sweetness. “And for yourself.” Liar. I knew exactly what this was about—power, control, money. Not love. Never love. Love wasn’t something people like me could afford to dream about. Not when you were an orphan, left at the mercy of a man like my uncle. He saw me as nothing more than a bargaining chip, a tool to be used and discarded when convenient. And now, I was being handed over to the Alpha of the Silverclaw pack like some kind of prize to be won. My chest tightened, and I felt the familiar burn of anger. Ronan. The name was enough to make my skin crawl. I hadn’t even met the man yet, but I’d heard enough about him to know he wasn’t the kind of person you trusted. Ruthless, they said. Cold. Dangerous. And now, I was supposed to marry him. A sharp knock at the door made me flinch, and I turned just as it creaked open. My uncle’s tall, skeletal form slipped inside, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he took in the sight of me. “Beautiful,” he said with a sly smile, as if admiring his handiwork. “You’ll make a fine Luna for Alpha Ronan.” I glared at him, wishing I could burn a hole straight through his chest with my stare. “You mean a fine pawn,” I snapped. He chuckled, stepping closer. “Oh, Lyla, always so dramatic. This is the best opportunity you could ever ask for. Do you think you’d be anything without me?” I stiffened, every word he spoke like venom seeping into my veins. I didn’t answer him. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Now,” he said, reaching out to adjust a strand of my hair. I jerked away from his touch. His smile never wavered. “You’ll go out there and do as you're told. You’ll marry Alpha Ronan, and you’ll make him believe you’re the perfect mate.” Mate. The word left a bitter taste in my mouth. “I won’t pretend to like this,” I muttered, looking away from him. “I won’t be his puppet.” His smile faded, replaced by the cold mask I knew too well. “You’ll do as I say, or you’ll regret it, Lyla. Do not forget who holds the power here.” I clenched my teeth, holding back the urge to lash out at him. My skin prickled with the urge to fight, to run, but deep down, I knew I had no choice. Not yet. “Good girl,” he said when I didn’t respond. “Now, it’s time.” RONAN The heavy doors to the great hall swung open with a creak, and the first thing I saw was her. Lyla. The woman I was being forced to marry. I stood at the altar, my back straight, my face an emotionless mask. My pack watched from behind me, their curious whispers filling the space. They all knew this marriage wasn’t my idea, that this arrangement had been forced on me by the council for the sake of unity, politics, strengthening alliances, and the search for a true mate. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want her. But what I wanted to be had never mattered. The council had made it clear: an Alpha needs a Luna. A mate to help keep the pack strong. And Lyla, with her connections to a wealthy, influential and pure-blooded family, was the perfect choice—at least, in their eyes. My eyes, however, were fixed on her as she walked down the aisle. Head held high, chin jutting out defiantly, she looked every bit as unwilling as I felt. Her gown trailed behind her like a ghost, a stark contrast to the dark scowl on her face. She didn’t want this either. Good. I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and forced myself to look away. This wasn’t about want. This was about duty. Responsibility. The pack came first, always. And if marrying this woman was what I had to do to ensure their safety, so be it. She reached the altar, her uncle gripping her arm like a man who knew exactly how much power he wielded. I had the sudden, overwhelming urge to tear her away from him. But I didn’t. “Alpha Ronan,” her uncle greeted me with a fake smile. “May I present to you, my niece, Lyla.” I ignored him and looked at her. She met my gaze with defiance, her green eyes blazing with fury. There was no submission in her stance, no sign of the docile bride her uncle had likely promised me. Good. Maybe this won’t be as simple as everyone thought. LYLA When I met Ronan’s gaze for the first time, I felt… nothing. No spark. No pull. No mystical mate bond surging through my veins like the elders always promised. Just cold, grey eyes staring back at me, the kind of eyes that had seen too much, done too much. He was taller than I expected, broad-shouldered and imposing, with a face that looked like it had been carved from stone. There was something dangerous about him, something sharp and untouchable. But I wasn’t intimidated. I had spent my entire life standing up to men like him—men who thought they could control everything. “I suppose you’re not thrilled about this either,” I muttered under my breath as I stood beside him at the altar, my voice low enough so only he could hear. His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “That would be an understatement.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, surprised by his honesty. At least we had that in common. The ceremony continued, words blurring together as the priest spoke of duty, honour, and the sacred bond between mates. I wanted to laugh at the irony. This wasn’t sacred. This was a transaction. When it came time to speak our vows, I felt a lump rise in my throat. My hands clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. The priest turned to me, expectant. “Do you, Lyla, take Alpha Ronan to be your mate, to honour and protect him, to stand by his side through all trials?” I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. My mind raced, my heart pounding in my chest. How did it come to this? How has my life turned into this nightmare? Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw my uncle, his gaze like a dagger in my back. I swallowed hard. I can’t fight this now. I wasn’t strong enough. “I do,” I whispered, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. The cold Alpha raised his eyes to look at me, with no warmth and pure coldness in his eyes as The whole congregation waited for him to say his vows.