Bride of the cruel Lycan

LI

for me. My father has never been a patient man, and today of all days, I can't afford to test his limits. It's my wedding day. Already. My stomach twists at the thought. I don't feel joy, not even a hint of it. Instead, there's only dread, a hollow ache that I can't seem to shake. By the time I step through the door, the house is already buzzing with activity. My stepmother gives me a sharp look, her disapproval evident, but I avoid her gaze. I can't handle her scrutiny right now. My father is in the sitting room, barking orders at a servant, his voice booming through the house. When he sees me, his expression hardens. "You're late," he snaps, and I lower my head in apology. There's no point arguing. I go upstairs to change, slipping into the lilac dress that Jane had mocked for being "too plain" when it arrived. It fits perfectly, but it feels like a costume, like I'm playing a role in a play I don't want to be in. Hours pass in a blur, and before I know it, we're at the palace. The grandeur is overwhelming, the towering pillars and gold detailing so breathtaking they almost distract me from the weight pressing down on my chest. Almost. My family is ushered inside, and I follow, my steps slow and hesitant. The grand ballroom is even more magnificent than I imagined. Flowers line the aisle, their soft fragrance filling the air, and candles flicker gently along the walls. It should be beautiful. It is beautiful. But all I can think about is what's waiting for me at the end of that aisle. The regent queen and her husband stand near the altar, their expressions regal but warm. I force a smile as they greet us, t