Claiming the mind-bound human bride

Chapter 6

Valeska Auden's

Elias Vance called me his bride as if he had already decided my future. I couldn't believe he thought he had that right.

Rain ran down my face, and the iron handcuffs cut into my wrists, but I lifted my chin.

“I am nobody's bride. Whatever mark is burned into my skin, it doesn't make me your property.”

The guards beside Elias shifted. Dankwart stood near the black carriage, one hand resting close to his sword, waiting for orders.

“You think I chose this?” Elias asked. His jaw tightened. “An old agreement choosing my bride was never part of my plans.”

“Then tell me what's happening to me.”

He gave no answer.

“Where is my father? You promised he would be left alone.”

“He will be.”

“And Gero? Have you found him?”

Elias frowned. “Who is Gero?”

“My friend. He's been missing for days. I was looking for him before your people came to my village.”

“I know nothing about him.”

“Then find out.” I pulled against the handcuffs, wincing as the iron scraped my skin. “You can't drag me away while he's still missing and expect me to forget about him. And what about the trouble on your borders? If you want me to trust you, start giving me answers.”

Elias turned to Dankwart. “Take her to the estate. No delays.”

“That isn't an answer,” I said.

“No,” Elias replied. “It isn't.”

Two guards took hold of my arms and led me toward the carriage. I pulled against their grip, but neither guard loosened his hold.

Before they shut the door, I looked back at Oakhaven. My father was still there, but I couldn't see Gero anywhere. I had agreed to go with Elias to protect Thomas and the village. Now I could only hope the king would keep his word.

The carriage smelled of cedar and old leather. Its door slammed shut, and we moved forward quickly, the wheels cutting through the muddy road.

I pressed my hands against the seat and watched rain streak the glass. Soon, the last lights of home disappeared behind the pines.

The carriage rattled over uneven ground as the shifters’ hooves splashed through the mud outside. The guards spoke occasionally, but none offered any explanation about where we were going or what waited for me there.

I kept remembering that morning in my father's workshop. Gero had promised to help me sort the briar roots, but he never showed up. I had no idea that by the end of the day, I would be leaving Oakhaven without knowing what had happened to him.

Now I was being taken to the home of a king who claimed he hadn't chosen me, yet seemed determined to keep me.

When the carriage finally stopped, the bolt scraped open, and Dankwart pulled the door wide.

“Out.”

I stepped onto wet cobblestones and looked up.

The Shadow Ridge royal estate stood on the valley slope, its dark stone walls rising through the grey mist. Stone statues of giant wolves lined the roof. “Inside,” Dankwart ordered, leading me through a side entrance.. Warm air carried the smell of burning wood. Servants carrying trays and folded linens moved aside as we passed, but several glanced at the handcuffs around my wrists before quickly looking away. One woman stared at me for a moment, then hurried around a corner.

They knew something about my arrival. I wondered what they had heard about the Treaty Mark and whether any of them knew why the agreement had chosen me.

We climbed two staircases before Dankwart stopped at a heavy wooden door and unlocked it.

“Your quarters.”

He used a small brass key to remove my handcuffs. The iron cuffs struck the stone floor with a clatter.

I rubbed my sore wrists and watched him.

“Why take them off if I'm still a prisoner?”

“The room is safe,” he replied. “The windows face a forty-foot drop into the ravine, and the locks are protected by magic. You won't get far.”

“So I'm still your prisoner.”

“Call it what you like.”

He stepped into the corridor and shut the door. A moment later, the heavy bolt slid into place.

I tried the handle. It wouldn't move.

The room had a four-poster bed, an oak desk, and a small fire in the hearth. I went straight to the window and looked down at the ravine. There had to be another way out, but the slope was too steep to climb.”

As I turned away, I noticed a mahogany closet against the far wall.

I opened it. Three dresses hung inside, made from fine wool and velvet in dark blue and deep forest green. Their high collars and neat stitching suggested they were made for the nobles of Shadow Ridge.

I touched the sleeve of the smallest gown. It looked close to my size.

Then I noticed the embroidery near the neckline.

A crescent moon surrounded by oak leaves, with two crossed blades beneath it.

I drew my hand back.

I knew that symbol. It was the same mark the agreement had burned into my shoulder in Oakhaven.

I leaned closer to examine the stitching. There was no mistaking the crescent, the oak leaves, or the crossed blades.

I checked the other dresses. They carried the same mark.

Elias had looked as surprised as I was when the mark appeared in Oakhaven. So who had prepared these dresses, and why did they carry the same symbol? I turned towards the locked door, wondering who in the estate knew more about the covenant than they were willing to admit.

A knock c

ame at the door.

I turned toward it.

“Who is it?”