CHAPTER TWO -THE WEDDING OF CHAINS
1534 Words
The dress was white, but Serena thought it looked more like a shroud.
Layers of silk pooled around her feet, stitched so finely it must have cost more than she would earn in ten lifetimes. The seamstresses moved around her like silent shadows, their hands tugging at seams and smoothing fabric as though she were nothing more than a mannequin. They didn’t look at her face. Omegas didn’t warrant eye contact in Blackthorn Tower, not when they were already marked as belonging to the Alpha.
Serena stared at her reflection in the gilded mirror. The girl staring back looked like a stranger. Pale skin, green eyes shadowed with exhaustion, dark hair pinned with silver combs. She looked every inch the Luna-to-be, but she didn’t feel like one. She felt like a prisoner, wrapped in silk instead of chains.
Behind her, the door opened. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
The air shifted, heavy with dominance. His scent—smoke, leather, and steel—rolled through the room like a stormfront. The seamstresses froze, bowing their heads, before fleeing the moment Damian Blackthorn’s voice cut through the silence.
“Leave us.”
The door clicked shut.
Serena’s spine stiffened as his reflection appeared behind her in the mirror. Damian was still in his suit, dark tie loosened, gray eyes unreadable. He looked at her as though she were an object he’d purchased, inspecting quality before delivery.
“You clean up well,” he said at last. His tone was flat, almost bored.
Serena lifted her chin. “I didn’t dress for you.”
His lips curved—mockery, not amusement. “Everything you do now is for me.” He stepped closer, his reflection swallowing hers. “Tomorrow, when you walk down that aisle, you’ll smile. You’ll play the perfect Luna. Because if you don’t…” His hand brushed her bare shoulder, heat sparking where his skin met hers, the mate bond crackling like live electricity. “If you embarrass me, I will make sure you regret it.”
Her pulse thundered, but she held his gaze in the mirror. “You can make me your bride. You can chain me with contracts. But you’ll never have me.”
For a moment, silence. Then Damian leaned down, his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine despite herself.
“I already do.”
---
The ceremony was a spectacle.
The Blackthorn estate’s grand hall had been transformed into a cathedral of glass and crystal, chandeliers dripping light onto a sea of powerful guests. The human world knew Damian Blackthorn as a billionaire—investors, politicians, media moguls all filled the rows, whispering with awe. But interwoven with them were wolves: Alphas and Betas from allied packs, their sharp eyes assessing, weighing.
At the end of the aisle, Damian waited. He stood tall and perfect in his tailored suit, every inch the commanding Alpha. His expression was carved from stone, but his presence filled the room like a storm.
Serena’s heart pounded as she walked toward him. Every step echoed like a death knell. She could feel the weight of hundreds of stares—humans seeing a fairytale wedding, wolves seeing a power play. And above them all, she felt his eyes.
Cold. Unyielding. Claiming.
When she reached him, Damian took her hand. His grip was firm, unbreakable. To the crowd, it must have looked steady, protective. To her, it felt like chains.
The vows were recited. Words of loyalty, obedience, union. Serena’s voice trembled only once, and she bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood to stop the quiver. Damian’s voice, deep and resonant, carried through the hall like a command.
When the officiant declared them bound, Damian didn’t hesitate. He pulled her forward and kissed her.
To the crowd, it was perfect—a passionate seal of union. Cameras flashed, humans sighed. Wolves bowed their heads in acknowledgment.
But Serena felt the truth. The kiss was possession, not affection. His mouth was hot and demanding, his wolf growling beneath his skin as if staking a claim for all to see. The bond pulsed, sparks shooting through her veins, her body betraying her with heat.
When he pulled back, his lips curved just enough for her to see the victory in it.
Mine.
---
The reception blurred into noise and glitter. Crystal glasses clinked, laughter rang, music swelled. Serena smiled where required, posed for photographs, answered polite questions with rehearsed phrases. She was the perfect Luna, the perfect bride.
Inside, she was screaming.
Snatches of gossip reached her ears as she drifted through the crowd. She’s beautiful, but she looks terrified. An omega? How fitting—easier to control. Do you think he actually wanted her?
Damian was never far. He played his role flawlessly, hand at the small of her back, voice smooth with charm when speaking to human politicians or wolf Alphas alike. But beneath the mask, his dominance radiated, his wolf prowling.
She felt it most when one of his investors—a handsome young Beta—took her hand to kiss it. His touch lingered a second too long, his eyes too admiring.
A low growl vibrated through Damian’s chest before he even spoke. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “Careful,” Damian said to the Beta, his tone silk over steel. “You’re playing with fire.”
The Beta paled, stammering apologies, retreating quickly.
Damian’s hand didn’t leave her waist. His grip was iron, his body warm against hers. His wolf was close to the surface, and she felt it—felt him—claiming her with every beat of her heart.
“You’re mine,” he murmured into her hair, too quiet for anyone else to hear. “Never forget that.”
---
The wedding night was a different kind of prison.
The suite was vast, all black marble and flickering firelight. A bed large enough to swallow her whole dominated the room, draped in silk sheets that gleamed like shadows.
Damian closed the door behind them. The click echoed like a lock.
Serena’s heart hammered as he shrugged off his jacket, tossing it carelessly onto a chair. He loosened his tie, unbuttoned his collar, all without looking at her. He didn’t need to. His presence filled the room, pressing down on her like gravity.
She stood near the window, moonlight spilling over her gown. She felt like prey cornered by a predator.
Damian finally turned, his gray eyes dark, his wolf simmering beneath. He walked toward her, each step deliberate, measured.
Her pulse raced faster with every inch he closed. The bond thrummed between them, pulling, demanding. Heat coiled low in her belly, traitorous and unwanted.
He stopped just before her, towering over her, his scent wrapping around her until it was all she could breathe. Smoke. Leather. Alpha.
“This is not a fairytale,” Damian said softly, though his voice carried the weight of command. “This marriage is power. Nothing more.”
Serena forced her chin up. “Then why can’t you stop looking at me like that?”
For a heartbeat, silence. Then Damian’s lips curved, slow and dangerous. His hand rose, fingers brushing her cheek, trailing down to her throat. Sparks shot through her skin at the contact, the bond flaring hot, her body arching toward his despite herself.
“You feel it too,” he murmured. “Don’t bother denying it.”
His thumb brushed the pulse at her throat. Her breath hitched, fire racing through her veins. She hated it. Hated him. Hated herself for wanting more.
He leaned down, his mouth brushing hers—not a kiss, not yet, just the cruel promise of one. Her eyes fluttered closed despite her will, her body trembling with the pull.
At the last moment, he pulled back, his breath hot against her lips.
“This bond will be your cage,” he whispered. “And no matter how you fight it, no matter how you hate me, you will come to me. Because your body, your wolf… already belongs to me.”
Serena’s eyes snapped open, fury and heat clashing in her chest. “I’ll never love you.”
Damian’s smile was cold, devastating. “Good. I don’t want your love.”
He stepped back, releasing her, leaving her body aching and furious all at once. He turned toward the bed, stripping away his shirt, his muscles taut and scarred. He lay down as though the room belonged solely to him—because it did.
“Sleep, Serena,” he ordered. “Tomorrow, you start your new life as my Luna. And the world will know you as mine.”
---
Serena lay awake long after his breathing evened, staring at the ceiling, her body still burning from his touch, her mind screaming rebellion.
She had signed his contract. She had said his vows. She had worn his ring.
But in her heart, she swore a vow of her own:
She would never truly belong to Damian Blackthorn.
And she would find a way to break her chains—no matter the cost.
- Writer
