The days that followed the Elders' decree passed like the slow tolling of a funeral bell.Every corner of the Citadel whispered of the coming union—of the impossible bond between the Alpha King and the Vampire Princess.
But in the hearts of those who spoke, it was not celebration they tasted.It was fear.
The Bride of the Enemy
From her new chamber high in the northern wing, Isabella watched the city of Lycanthra stir beneath the pale morning sun. The fortress spread outward like veins of silver and stone—wolves in armor marching in patterns of obedience, their howls a symphony of discipline and dread.
She pressed a hand against the cold glass, her reflection staring back: pale skin, eyes like garnet flame, lips curved in quiet defiance. They had dressed her in white—a color sacred to the wolves, symbolizing submission to the Alpha's will. To her, it felt like a shroud.
The heavy oak door opened with a creak. Calen entered, head bowed, his silver-flecked hair catching the dim light.
"Your Highness," he said softly, "the Elders request your presence in the Moon Hall. Preparations for the ceremony are to begin."
Her jaw tightened. "Preparations? You make it sound as though this were voluntary."
Calen's gaze flickered. "In Lycanthra, little is voluntary—especially under the Moon's eye."
He hesitated before adding, "Be cautious, Princess. The brothers do not share the Elders' restraint. Allen speaks openly against you."
Isabella smiled faintly, though the edge in her voice was sharp as a dagger. "Then I'll be sure to stand where the light cuts deepest."
The Moon Hall
The Moon Hall of the Citadel was carved from white granite veined with silver, its ceiling open to the sky so that moonlight poured in like liquid grace. At its center stood the Elders, their staffs crossed before the altar of vows.
Ryan was already there.
He wore no crown, yet authority clung to him like armor. His golden eyes caught the moonlight as she entered—and for a moment, just a moment, something unguarded flickered there. Pain. Fury. Longing. Then it was gone, buried beneath that perfect calm.
"Your Majesty," Isabella said coldly, bowing her head with the barest hint of sarcasm.
"Princess." His reply was a blade disguised as civility. "I trust your accommodations were… adequate?"
"If comfort were a leash, then yes," she said. "Perfectly adequate."
A muscle in his jaw tightened. The brothers watching from the periphery smirked, amused by the exchange, until Elder Myrren's voice silenced them.
"The vows will take place under the full moon, three nights hence. Until then, the princess will remain within the Citadel under your protection, Alpha King. She is not to be harmed nor left unattended."
Ryan inclined his head stiffly. "As you command."
But the gleam in his eyes said otherwise.
The Wolf and the Bond
That night, after the hall had emptied and the moon rode high, Ryan found himself standing outside Isabella's chamber. He told himself it was duty—that he was merely ensuring her security.
Yet his hand lingered too long on the iron door before he knocked.
"Enter," came her voice—soft, melodic, but laced with steel.
He stepped inside. She stood by the window, hair cascading like midnight silk, the moon tracing the curve of her shoulders. The sight made something primal stir in him—something his wolf recognized even as his mind rebelled.
"You should rest," he said. "The court will demand your presence tomorrow."
She turned, her gaze burning through him. "And you? Do you rest easily knowing you'll bind yourself to a creature you despise?"
He hesitated. "Despise? No. Distrust, yes. There's a difference."
Her lips curved. "Then I'm honored to be merely distrusted."
Ryan stepped closer, every movement deliberate, controlled. "Make no mistake, Princess. I will honor the bond only because it serves my kingdom. But if you betray me—if you endanger Lycanthra—no decree of moon or god will protect you."
She met his gaze without flinching. "And if you betray me, Alpha, may the same moon bear witness when I destroy you."
The air between them tightened—an invisible thread, thrumming with the pulse of the bond.For a heartbeat, their breaths synchronized, the scent of blood and pine mixing in the stillness.Then Ryan tore his gaze away.
Without another word, he turned and left, the echo of his boots fading down the hall.
The Hunt Within
Later that night, Ryan stood at the edge of the forest again.He had hoped the cold air would quiet the storm within him—but the wolf prowled just beneath his skin, restless and furious.
You can't fight it forever, the voice growled within.She is ours.
"No," Ryan whispered, eyes burning gold. "She is a weapon. Nothing more."
The wolf snarled. You lie to yourself as easily as you lie to them. You think you can use her? The bond will use you first.
Ryan's claws burst from his hands, digging into the earth. "I will control it. I will control her."
You can control a war, perhaps, the wolf mocked, but not the pull of fate.
His growl split the night, echoing through the forest until the birds fled and the wind itself seemed to hold its breath.
For a moment, the Alpha King of Lycanthra stood utterly still—half man, half beast, bound by instincts he could neither embrace nor destroy.
And in the Citadel far above, Isabella felt it too—the faint, electric shiver of his turmoil crossing the distance between them.Her hand went to her heart, where that unnatural pulse echoed once, twice, then stilled.
The Whisper of Conspiracy
In the shadows of the lower halls, Allen watched the night unfold with a smile that did not reach his eyes.
"So the mighty Alpha King will wed a vampire," he murmured. "Perhaps fate is not cruel… merely amusing."
Damon stepped from the dark beside him, his grin sharp. "The Elders may bind him, but they can't bind us. A wolf is never loyal to chains, even if they shine."
Allen's eyes glimmered with ambition. "Then perhaps, brother, we should make sure this union fails—spectacularly."
Their laughter, low and wicked, slithered through the corridors like smoke.