The Runaway Bride Who Bought The Alpha King

Aurora’s Pov It was my wedding day… and I wished I were dead. Not because I didn’t love the man waiting at the altar—But because my father had just sold me to him. Not to a husband. To a monster. The Alpha King himself. “Put up your best smile,” my father whispered. My bouquet of dark red peonies trembled in my hands. Not from nerves—well, partially nerves—but mostly because I was resisting the urge to run. And then I saw him. Alpha King Alaric Nightbane. My groom. Tall. Composed in a black suit. The only colour on him was his silver-grey eyes. There was no smile when we locked eyes. His face was firm, like he was about to pass judgment. My father placed my hands in his and nodded at me with a smirk on his wrinkled face. The officiant sealed the wedding and just like that, the transaction was completed. The ballroom at the grand castle was flooded with high-ranking werewolves and influential politicians. Soft music played, and waiters walked around with trays serving food and wine. My husband disappeared almost immediately. Interesting. I was stuck with forcing a smile and nodding as guests came with congratulatory messages, trying to ignore the whispers, “poor human girl. I hope she survives the night.” I barely managed a sip of champagne before my father grabbed my hand and pulled me towards a corner. “You are not smiling enough.” He spits. “I'm sorry,” I hissed. “I'll try to look happier about my sacrifice.” “Don't test me, girl. Be a good wife and make him happy.” “What about me? Don't I deserve to be happy?” I asked, my voice shaking as I almost let a tear out. “Now listen,” he gripped me tighter. “You owe me. I adopted you and saved your ass.” “But I didn’t ask to get adopted and I should matter too.” He scoffed, his voice dropped, dark and deliberate “I'd let the entire pack f**k you if it means saving my own ass.” My chest tightened as I whimpered. “Now go find your husband and make him happy.” I nodded hesitantly, “Yes, Father.” He released me and filtered away. I turned to walk away but Alaric approached me, grabbing my elbow harshly. “Dance.” No request or warmth. Just command, and I followed. We danced in silence for a moment, then I asked him. “Why did you marry me?” His gaze faltered, a pause and then a deep, low voice: “Pumpkin, with time you'll understand that some of us have obligations we must attend to.” “What did you just call me?” I asked, focusing on the one thing that registered in my brain. “What did you hear?” He released me abruptly, already stepping away. “We are leaving,” he commanded. “Wait—What about the reception?” “It’s unnecessary.” His tone left no room for argument. “The car is waiting.” “Oh lord,” I muttered. “At least let me have my wedding cake.” “No.” His voice was devoid of softness as he walked away. I sat across from him in the limousine. Protesters outside slammed their boards on the window. “No More Werewolf Business.” “Human Rights First!” Someone hurled red paint at the window. It streaked downward like blood, and my nerves shot up. A thought came spiralling into my head. Maybe it's best if the werewolves and the humans stay separated. The car pulled away. And all that waited for me now was what comes after the wedding. The wedding night. The door slid open, revealing the cold expanse of his penthouse. “Home f*****g sweet home,” he muttered. The lights were dim, and the king-sized bed lay to perfection. He turned to me, “Take off your clothes.” My chest tightened. This was not how I expected my wedding night to be. "Please,” I whimpered as I loosened my corset. “I've never done this before. Be gentle.” He ignored me. His gaze was cold. I lay on the bed like I was waiting to be sacrificed. “Look at me,” he commanded. “I want you to look at me while I take you.” He positioned himself between my legs. He drove into me with one fast thrust, tearing the barrier of my innocence. I cried. He didn't stop. His only goal was to c*m. I turned my face to the side with tears dropping down my temple. He closed his eyes, focusing on the friction and finally, orgasm hit. A wave of pleasure that was more of relief than ecstasy. He came inside me and then pulled out. He walked away. And that was how my honeymoon started. My cold-hearted husband took my innocence and left me like I was nothing. I woke up with every bone in my body aching. I needed to get coffee so I made my way to the kitchen, but then, a distinct sound drifted down the hallway from the master bedroom. Laughter. It was a woman’s laughter. My heart pounded against my ribs as I moved down the hall. I stopped in the doorway, and right there, my world shattered. You have to go,” he murmured. “She's going to be awake soon.” I covered my mouth with my hand, pressing myself against the doorframe, hidden against the angle of the wall. “Let her,” She scoffed, looking him in the eye. “Well, how was your wedding night?” She said, her tone calm, laced with soft giggles. “Did you enjoy deflowering your little bride?” “That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” he said, his tone low and firm. “She cried the entire time.” My knees almost gave out, but I grabbed the walls to steady myself. “Good,” she said. “I'm running out of patience. I want to be the lady of this house, not a secret kept in the dark.” “It's a matter of biology, Seraphine.” He said, his voice clinical. “The moment she conceives, the clock starts ticking. We will need the heir to secure my bloodline and my place in the pack.” “And the mother?” She asked, tracing a finger down his chest. He chuckled darkly. “Once the child comes we will take custody. The lawyers are already preparing paperwork. We will paint her insane. She'll be cast out with a settlement while the baby remains here.” “With me.” She traced a finger along his chest. “I’ll be a mother to it—a better one than she could ever be.” With us,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Just wait a few more months. Once we have the child, we discard the vessel.” Vessel. That is all I am to him. Hot tears burned my cheeks. I was a vessel. The moment of clarity hit me. If I walk into that room and scream, I would lose—then everything would be gone. I have to run away, become a ghost. I staggered back, heart hammering. Every second here was a risk. Hands shaking, I headed to the garage through the back door, gripped the wheel and dialled. “Lyra! Please, I need you—now!” My voice cracked, tremors shaking my hands, sobs burning my chest. “What do you need?” She asked, with a resolve that told me I could count on her. “I have to disappear.” “Done. Tell me where you are, and I'll come pick you up.” “Don't forget the serum,” I said, my heart panting. I texted her my location, pulled out my SIM and battery—and just as I tossed the phone in the dumpster, a low growl echoed from the shadows across the street—someone had followed me.