FIA
"Keep your head down," Isobel whispered. "Don't speak unless you absolutely have to, and if he asks you direct questions, just nod or shake your head."
A sharp knock rattled the door again. He was getting even more impatient.
"Wait," she called out, her voice strained with the effort of trying to sound calm. "The bride isn't ready yet."
She spun back to me, and her fingers flew as she tugged me out of the blue bridesmaid gown. The fabric slid down my arms and pooled at my feet, and before I could even process what was happening, she lifted the heavy wedding gown and guided it over my body. Her hands worked quickly, fastening buttons and hooks, smoothing fabric into place, and I just stood there like a doll being dressed.
When she was done, she opened the door.
My heart was hammering so hard against my ribs that I was sure he could hear it from where he stood.
"Finally," he said. "Are you ready?"
I nodded. It was what Isobel had recommended.
"You look beautiful." His voice went softer. "I know this is overwhelming, but everything will be fine once the ceremony is over."
If only he knew.
Isobel moved to stand beside me, and her hand found mine, squeezing so tightly it hurt. "She's just nervous. Wedding day jitters, you know how it is."
"Of course." He offered me his arm, and even that simple gesture felt loaded with expectation. "Shall we?"
"Just a few more minutes," Isobel interrupted, stepping between us smoothly. "I need to perfect her makeup first."
Cian studied us. His gaze felt sharp enough to cut through the veil and see exactly what we were doing. My stomach dropped, certain he'd somehow figured it out, that he could smell the deception or sense that something was wrong. Then he inclined his head once. "Very well. I'll wait outside."
As he reached the door, Isobel added lightly, "Your woman is going nowhere."
A faint smile tugged at his mouth. "Then all is well."
The door closed behind him, and the silence that followed felt heavy enough to suffocate under. Isobel exhaled sharply through her nose, and my knees felt weak with fear.
"He's suspicious," I whispered.
"You just need to get through the ceremony. I'll figure out what to do after," Isobel grabbed her makeup bag and began to work on my face. She kept glancing at the door like she expected him to burst back in at any second and rip the veil off my head.
"Remember," she whispered while dabbing powder under my eyes, "keep your voice soft if you absolutely must speak. Hazel's voice is higher than yours, more delicate sounding. And for the love of the Moon Goddess, keep that veil down until the very last possible moment."
My throat felt like I'd swallowed sand. "What if someone recognizes me? What if Father sees and realizes?"
"Your father is too busy playing politics to care. Besides, who would think we'd be doing this? The idea is too insane for anyone to consider, which is exactly why it will work."
She stepped back and looked me over with a critical eye, then nodded once. "It's time. We can't keep him waiting any longer without raising more suspicion."
Isobel cracked the door open and peered out into the hallway like she was checking for guards. "Come on, and keep your head down."
I followed her through the packhouse corridors, and my heart hammered harder with each step. The wedding dress rustled around my legs, heavier than anything I'd ever worn.
We stopped at the edge of the stone pathway that led from the house to the ceremony space. Beyond it, rows of chairs stretched out under the open sky, already filled. I could hear the low hum of voices drifting toward us.
"Ready?" Isobel asked.
I was not. I would never be ready for this. But I nodded anyway.
We stepped onto the path, and the guests turned as one to stare at me. I dared not look at them, fearing they would sense I was an imposter. Isobel guided me down the aisle, and every step felt like walking through mud. People whispered as we passed. At that moment, I couldn't make out individual words over the rushing sound in my ears that was pure panic.
When my emotions settled slightly, their voices began to drift over.
"Beautiful," someone murmured.
"She looks radiant," came another voice from somewhere to my left.
"Hazel always was the prettiest of the sisters," a woman added.
I flinched internally at the words, even though I'd heard similar things my whole life.
In no time at all, I found myself standing next to Cian. His hair was combed back away from his face, and even from this distance, I caught his scent. Pine and some expensive cologne.
Isobel squeezed my hand hard enough to leave marks before stepping aside to join the other witnesses, and Cian offered me his arm. My hand shook slightly where it rested on his sleeve, and I wondered if he could feel it through the fabric.
Beside him waited an Elder. She was Skollrend's pack healer or perhaps a spiritual guide. Her silver hair was braided with moonstone beads, and her eyes were pale blue like the winter sky.
She smiled at us.
"We gather on these grounds to witness the joining of two souls," she began, and her voice carried easily through the hall even though she wasn't shouting. "Alpha Cian of the Skollrend Pack and Hazel of the Silver Creek Pack have chosen to bind themselves not just in marriage, but in the sacred bond of chosen mates."
Chosen mates meant more than just a political marriage. It meant we would try to create a mate bond by asking the goddess, something usually reserved for fated pairs.
Elder Moira lifted a chalice filled with clear liquid and handed it to Cian.
"Drink, and open your soul to your chosen mate," she instructed.
Cian took a sip, his throat working as he swallowed, then he passed the chalice to me.
My hands shook as I lifted the veil just enough to bring the cup to my lips without exposing my face. The liquid tasted like nothing at first, then it tingled as it went down my throat.
Elder Moira began chanting in the old language. She pulled out a length of red rope and began wrapping it around our joined hands, looping it over and under.
"With this binding, your souls reach for each other across the void," she said. "What the Moon Goddess has not fated, you ask to be created through will and love."
The rope grew warm against my skin, then hot. Something also fluttered in my chest. Like a butterfly trapped inside my ribcage, trying to find a way out. I gasped and looked up at Cian through the veil.
His eyes had gone wide with surprise.
I'd felt this once before, so I knew exactly what it was.
The mate bond was forming.
Terror shot through me like someone had dumped ice water directly into my veins. This wasn't supposed to happen... I was supposed to just go through the motions, say the words, let them think everything was fine until later, when we could figure out how to fix it. A chosen-mate bond could eventually be broken. But my true fear was that this would let him sense my emotions, maybe even pick up on my thoughts if it grew strong enough.
"The bond takes hold," Elder Moira announced with deep satisfaction. "Now, let this union be sealed with a kiss."
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Cian stepped closer, and his hands came up toward my face to lift the veil.
"No," I whispered, but the word got lost completely in the noise around us. I grabbed at the lace with both hands, trying to keep it in place, trying to keep my face hidden for just a few more seconds.
Cian chuckled like I'd made a joke. "Still shy? That's alright, we have time."
"She's been nervous all day," someone called out from the crowd. I couldn't tell who. But more laughter rippled through the hall.
"Hazel always was the bashful type," another voice added.
I turned desperately toward where I knew Isobel was standing, looking for help or guidance or something, but when I found her face in the crowd, she just looked back at me with blank innocence. As if nothing catastrophic were about to happen, as if everything were going exactly according to plan.
That expression on her face was odd.
Cian's hands were gentle but completely insistent as they moved to the edges of my veil. "It's alright," he said softly, meant only for me to hear. "I'll be gentle. I won't hurt you."
But his reassurance only made my panic worse. I tried to pull back, to keep the veil down for just a few more seconds, but his hands were so much stronger.
The fabric began to rise away from my face, inch by terrible inch.
"Please," I whispered, but he didn't hear me over the crowd's chanting of 'kiss, kiss, kiss'.
The veil came up and over my head in one smooth motion.
Everywhere fell completely silent right then.
Alpha Cian's face went through a series of expressions too fast for me to track properly. Confusion first, like he couldn't understand what he was seeing, then recognition as his brain caught up with his eyes.
When he finally spoke, his voice came out deadly quiet in a way that made my blood cold.
"You are not my bride."