Chapter 13. Built To Last
720 Words
Varya
The cold in Moonspire always seeps into your bones, not the weather, no, but the people. The silence. The looks. The calculating hush of the halls. It’s not a place for the faint hearted.
Fortunately, I am not faint hearted.
I was raised in the Blackmane estate, where strength wasn’t whispered, it was inherited. My mother taught me that love is a luxury women like us cannot afford, not when bloodlines, legacy and survival hangs in the balance. She was right and wrong.
Because I believe I could have both.
I arrived at Moonspire a day early, ahead of the formal ceremony and the titles and the weight of the union. The announcement had been made days earlier. I wanted to see him, not just the alpha everyone whispered about, not just the Moonspire wrapped heir or the cold blooded they wrote about, but the man I’m set to marry.
Dominic Veylor.
The man who had haunted the war field led at eighteen.
My mate?
No.
My future?
Yes.
And that would be enough. It had to be.
The estate was vast, black stone walls tangled in silver Ivy, archways made of bone like marble, and guards who never met your gaze. Moonspire wasn’t built for comfort. It was built to last, as I was.
My boots tapped along the empty hall. The silence in this place was almost holy.
I had dressed carefully in a dark green dress with long sleeves and a plunging back. Soft velvet. Expensive but not flashy. Flattering, but not desperate. Everything I wore was a statement. Controlled.
I found him in the west wing garden. Alone, of course, he always was.
He stood at the edge of the stone path, facing the frozen pond, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. The snow had just started to fall, soft flakes catching in his hair. He didn’t turn as I approached.
“Dominic,” I said gently.
Still, nothing.
“I thought you’d be in the council hall. Your father said…”
“My father says a lot of things,” his voice was quiet, low. But sharp.
I paused beside him, keeping a polite distance.
“I wanted to see you before the others arrived.”
He exhaled slowly, and I wondered if he’d forgotten I existed.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” he muttered.
“I know, I asked them not to announce my arrival. I didn’t want this to feel like a ceremony, we have already done the ceremony part.”
A silence stretched between us.
His jaw clenched as he turned his head slightly, not quite facing me. “So it begins,"
“Our engagement?” I said lightly, tilting my head. “Or the parade of wolves waiting to see if I’m worthy of the Moonspire name?”
His lips twitched, a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “ You'll impress them.”
“Will I impress you?” I asked before I could stop myself.
His eyes finally met mine. Dark. Empty. Haunted.
“I’m not here to be impressed.”
Of course not.
I looked away pressing my fingers. “ they say you’ve changed.”
“I have.”
“They say you used to be softer.”
“I was young.”
“They say you were cursed.”
“They say a lot of things.”
I didn’t apologize. I wasn’t here to falter him. I was here to prove myself valuable.
“Then let me say something they won’t,” I offered softly. “I think you’re exactly what this kingdom needs.”
“Really?”
“Yes. A strong one.”
He looked away again as if my words scratched something.
The wind picked up, carrying snow into the folds of my sleeves. I stepped closer, just slightly.
“I know what this marriage is,” I said. “ I’m not naive.”
“I doubt you’ve ever been naive.”
It sounded like a compliment. A warning. Maybe both.
“This union isn’t about love, I know that.”
“Then what is it about, Varya?”
My name on his tongue sent a shiver down my spine.
“Strength. Legacy. A future neither of us could build alone.”
He gave me a long look.
“You rehearsed that?”
- Writer
