Chapter 3 A Human

Alaric's POV

The smell of wolves always sickened me. Their halls reeked of wet fur and desperation, though they'd polished every marble surface to a blinding sheen for this wedding. My wedding. I stood at the altar in my black ceremonial armor, the silver wolf sigil etched beneath the Lycan crest ... a cruel mockery of unity. Wolves and Lycans could barely share a border without bloodshed, yet here I was, binding myself to one of theirs. "For politics," Mother had said. "For power." And power, I liked. The grand oak doors groaned open, and silence fell over the gathered nobles. The bride appeared... My bride. She was draped in ivory, her face veiled. My jaw tightened. The spoiled daughter of the Beta known as a spoilt brat. Everyone's eyes turned to her, but mine locked instantly as her scent hit me first. A strange scent rolled towards me... not wolf, not kin, not anything I knew. It was... human. My jaw tightened. My chest burned with rage.... My nostrils flared, searching, testing the air. My pulse thudded hard. This wasn't Dahlia. Whoever was beneath that veil was... human. A cold, fragile and breakable human? Impossible. My mother had sworn that Beta Troy's daughter... the promised Dahlia, was a wolf of strong blood, a fitting bond for a prince. But this... this was deception. A crime against the Lycans. Zarrok, the beast inside me snarled, demanding blood. 'Tear the hall apart. Make them pay.' I flicked my eyes toward my mother, who sat like an ice queen on her chair, her expression calm.. too calm though her hands gripped the arms of her throne too tightly.. Then to the Alpha King, Ethan, who met my gaze steadily as if daring me to lose control. Anger coiled low and hot in my chest, sharp and lethal. They thought they could play me!! They thought the ceremony, the kingdoms expectations, the binding laws of alliance, would trap me?? That I wouldn't shred this veil from her face and expose the farce. Did they not know that I was not a man to be trapped. She reached me. Step after careful step. Every movement deliberate, as if she carried chains no one else could see. Then I caught it.. a stutter, the faintest tremble. Her small hands clenched around the bouquet, and though her face was hidden, her body betrayed her... nerves, fear... and something else. Strength. She moved as if she were walking into her own execution yet refused to collapse. My wolf pressed harder, demanding release, demanding we reject this, end this before humiliation tainted my name. "Unveil her," the priest commanded softly. My hands curled into fists and for a heartbeat, I considered tearing the veil with claws instead of fingers... let the world see me for what I was. Let them choke on blood as a result of their lies. My wolf snarled inside me, rattling against my ribs. 'Unacceptable.' I reached for her veil. My gaze never left the girl. I was seconds away from ripping the fabric from her head, exposing their charade to the entire court, and spilling blood across the polished floor. I moved like a predator cornering prey. My fingers brushed the gauzy fabric, and for a heartbeat, I expected resistance, panic, some sign of the spoiled Dahlia beneath. Instead, silence. Stillness. She didn't fight. She waited. And I saw her. The priest's voice drowned. I barely heard him. The world cracked. Her eyes.... Not the cowering gaze of a lamb offered to slaughter. Not the simpering fear I expected from a human standing in a den of lycans. No. Her silence roared louder than the crowd's hushed breaths. She looked at me as though she knew exactly what I was, and yet refused to bow. Her eyes were as blue as fractured ice. Wide with terror, yes, but burning beneath... fierce, alive, unyielding. They speared straight through me, and for the first time in years, my chest forgot how to breathe. Zorrak stilled. 'She is prey,' he hissed. But she is...' "Human," I growled, voice low enough only she and the priest might hear. Her lashes flickered, but she didn't look away, she didn't even say a word. Instead that blue-fire stare burned through my anger, hooking into me, anchoring me when I should have torn her apart. I forced my eyes to my mother and she met my gaze, warning written in the lift of her brow. She knew. Of course she knew.... And she was daring me to expose it, to start a war here and now in Silver Claw's own den. The priest cleared his throat, oblivious. "Do you, Prince Alaric, take this bride-m.. " "Yes." The word cut from me like a blade before I could stop it. A collective exhale shivered across the hall. Ethan's smirk deepened. My mother inclined her head, approval gleaming in her eyes. But it wasn't for them that I'd spoken. It was for her. For the girl with ice-fire eyes who stood silent yet unbroken before me, daring me to decide whether she would be destroyed or protected. "And do you take the Prince of BloodHowl as your husband?.." Her lips parted, trembling. For a wild second, I thought she might refuse. Might rip this illusion apart herself. Instead, she bowed her head... once, slow, resigned. The ceremony blurred. Words passed. Oaths were spoken. When it came time to seal the bond, the hall leaned forward as one. I could feel the expectation... blood, chaos, rejection. But then she lifted her eyes again, those hauntingly blue flames, and the choice was ripped from me. I slowly lowered my head, and for the briefest moment, I let myself breathe her in. Sweet, fragile, wrong-and yet perfect. I pressed my lips near hers... Heat. Sparks. Not wolf-magic, not the tether of a mate bond. Something else. Something rawer. And it terrified me more than her humanity ever could. As the hall erupted in applause, I held her hand tighter than necessary. Too tight. A silent command that meant 'You can't escape'. She flinched but didn't pull away. Her spine straightened. And in that moment, I knew this girl... this human, was no pawn. She was a storm dressed in silk, and I had just bound myself to her. My lips curled, not in kindness, but in possession. If they thought they could humiliate me with this human, they were wrong. I would take her and break her. I stared at her as the final vow, the dagger slashed open my palm as well as hers, and just when our bloodied palms were placed together... Her scent shifted. A flicker of something beneath the fragile human skin... A sweetness edged in fire. Not wolf. Not wholly human either. Different. Unnatural. Forbidden. I leaned in closer to her... She didn't speak. She hadn't spoken once since stepping into the room. A mute bride? Rage warred with something darker inside me, something I refused to name. Then I spoke, my voice a whisper only she could hear. "Who are you?"