BRIDE OF WRATH

LYLA GRAY

"Master Wrath has called for you. Come, we must not keep him waiting. He's not a very patient man." The woman said coldly, before turning, expecting me to follow.

She appeared to be in her mid-fifties, dressed in a well-ironed maid's uniform.

Quietly and reluctantly, I walked behind her.

My fate had taken a drastic turn overnight. Just yesterday, I was home, eating a meager meal of watery oats with my parents. And now, I was here in a mansion so large its curtains alone could feed my family for weeks.

But I wasn't here as a worker. I wasn't here as a guest. I was here as a bride-to-be to the patriarch of this household.

It had started with a knock on the door yesterday morning.

Two men had arrived. Two large men.

I had spied them from outside, where I was hanging the laundry while they spoke to my parents, and although I couldn't hear their words, I knew they did not come bearing good news. No one looking like that did.

Finally, when I stepped in, laundry basket in hand, their flinty eyes had fallen on me, and I'd stilled.

Seeing them up close was even more terrifying. They loomed over me and my parents, despite my dad standing a solid six feet tall. From their size and presence alone, I knew they weren't ordinary men, but something beyond even the usual werewolves.

They were Lycans.

These ones didn't just turn into wolves, they were something stronger, something superior.

They didn't feel compelled to shift under the full moon, they were their own masters.

We humans knew of their kind. There was a treaty in place, keeping the peace... keeping us safe, so we had no fear that they would act irrationally.

But that didn't explain why they had come to my home.

At the end of the meeting, one word said it all.

Marriage.

But for the sole sake of mating with their Alpha.

My parents hadn't said no. I hadn't had a choice.

"You'll live a better life there. You are to marry a very powerful man. Rich and strong too."

My mother had said. She cupped my cheek. "All you have to do is bear his babies. You'll be fine."

"I always knew you were our ticket out of this misery." My father added. "I always knew God blessed you with looks like this for this very purpose."

His tired eyes crinkled when he smiled. "We need this money, Lyla. We might never get this opportunity again."

I was their only child. And yet, they had given me away so easily. So... eagerly.

About an hour ago, one of the men from yesterday had come for me. He was red-haired, with ocean blue eyes, his huge body hidden underneath extra-large clothing.

He said nothing during the drive to the estate and handed me over to the woman now leading me through its eerie halls.

"Walk faster and stop trailing behind," she snapped.

I quickened my pace.

We reached a door, and she turned to assess me. Disapproval and disgust were obvious in her small, evil-looking eyes, and for a moment, I was pleased.

I did not want to make these people happy.

My gray wool dress was old and faded. It hung loosely on my frame, and my hair... my gloriously beautiful golden hair was packed up in an awful ponytail and wrapped into a messy bun.

I had done it deliberately. I'd chosen to look as haggard and unappealing as possible.

I would not bother dressing well for a place I didn't want to be.

A place I'd been sold to.

Maybe, just maybe, they'd change their minds, realize what a terrible mistake they'd made, and send me home.

"I would've made you take a bath and change out of that filth before bringing you to the master," The woman said with revulsion, and I stiffened at the insult.

"But his orders were to bring you straight to him the minute you set foot in this mansion."

Her gaze wandered to my dress for a moment longer before she exhaled, shook her head, and gestured to the door.

"Go in."

I hesitated.

Behind that door was my intended.

Behind that door was Zephyrus Wrath.

A man rumored to be as menacing as his last name.

An Alpha.

I knew little about him, except that he was feared by many and had no desire for a mate, yet was eventually cajoled by his pack to take one for his legacy.

My anxious heart pounded, but I would not let my fear be known.

Lifting my chin and swallowing hard, I stepped inside, shutting the door softly behind me.

The room was vast and lavish, making my jaw drop in awe. My eyes ran over the extravagant décor before landing on the man who was to be my husband, just as he stepped out of the shower.

The men I'd seen yesterday were large, yes, but Zephyr was something else entirely. He stood only a few inches taller than the others, yet his presence was far more imposing.

Ebony-black hair, still wet and messily plastered back from his shower, clung to his forehead, and green eyes that seemed to burn into my skin raked over me.

A towel was all that protected his modesty, revealing just enough of his sculpted V-line to make my mouth almost drop open... not just at the blatant lack of modesty, but at the fact that I was about to marry this man.

This half-naked, towering, six-foot-four or maybe five, ruggedly built, devastatingly handsome Greek god.

Forcing myself to break free from the trance, I dragged my gaze from his body up to his face.

He studied me in silence with an unreadable expression as he approached. Slowly, he began to circle me, arms crossed, until he came to a stop behind me.

My heart thudded even faster, my body more rigid than Bernini's Saint Sebastian.

Without saying a word, I felt him reach up and gently tug at the band holding my hair in place, causing it to tumble down my back.

Zephyr moved again, stepping around until he stood before me once more. I saw his eyes flare for a brief moment before he tossed the band across the room and turned away, sauntering deeper into the chamber, leaving me frozen to the spot.

Shutting my eyes, I let out a long, silent breath of relief, only then realizing I had been holding it in the entire time he was near me.

"Do you know why you're here, Lyla?" Zephyr finally spoke, throwing open his wardrobe. His voice was deep. Rough, matching his appearance.

"Yes," I replied quietly, watching him pull out a robe, wondering if he was going to get dressed in front of me.

"Why are you here?" he asked casually, slipping on the robe.

I silently prayed he wouldn't turn around until he was fully covered. I wasn't mentally or physically prepared to see him naked.

I wasn't sure how my body would react, though a part of me already knew it would be worse than what I was experiencing now. As strange and embarrassing as it was, I was mildly aroused.

Zephyr was undeniably, unfairly attractive.

"I am to be your mate," I muttered in response.

"No," he corrected, turning to face me now fully covered in the robe. "You are to be my wife."

I'd heard Zephyr was supposed to wed werewolf or Lycan royalty, someone born with the gene at least... someone worthy of an Alpha. But he had said no, stating that the only way he would marry was if he personally granted the bite to his chosen partner.

And he had chosen me.

Which meant I would be bitten soon, turned into a beast like them.

I would be made into something inhuman... a cursed creature. Although strong and powerful, but animalistic. Hideous. Permanent.

Bile rose in my throat at the thought, but I pushed it back.

"Wife," he had said. What a joke.

"You should not wear rags." Zephyr's voice cut through my thoughts. His brows were furrowed as he stared at my worn-out dress.

I felt insulted. What was it with these people and my dress?

Yes, it was old, but it was still my dress, and the idea of him addressing it as rags, just as the woman before had addressed it as filth, didn't sit well with me.

My lip tightened into a hard line, and I bit back my tongue from retorting brusquely at him.

"Speak your mind," he said, as if reading my thoughts.

Without hesitation, I snapped. "My clothes are not rags."

After a long moment, he replied, catching me off guard. "My apologies."

My face blanched in surprise.

"I'm certain by now your maid, Celine, has prepared your room and everything you need," Zephyr continued. "When you leave this room, she'll be waiting for you."

"Celine," I muttered despondently, staring down at my feet. Surely, that had to be the cold woman who showed me to his room.

I couldn't believe she was my maid. She hated me. And the feeling was mutual.

"Not Maria," Zephyr added with a slight scoff, again as if reading my thoughts. "Maria is the head of staff."

"Oh. Thank you," I said in a small, icy tone, glancing away. My eyes landed on a large portrait hanging on the wall. Zephyr stood with the two men from yesterday. That was how I knew they were brothers. Formidable brothers.

Zephyr sat on a couch while the others stood behind him, exuding the same power he did.

"You shouldn't thank me if your gratitude isn't genuine," he said.

My gaze flicked back to him. I wanted to ask how he knew, but then I remembered the man before me was no ordinary man.

He was a beast.

A beast with a keen sense of smell that could likely scent my hate, my anger, and my discomfort.

Before I could speak, Zephyr continued. "I never desired a wife,"

His green eyes held mine, burning into them like embers. "But my pack..."

"Yes," I cut in angrily. "So I've been told. Your pack demanded it, and you listened." My words were brusque.

Zephyr tilted his head. "I don't think you understand wolf politics," he said calmly. "As Alpha, I lead, but leadership is not just about ruling with an iron fist. A pack thrives on trust, on unity. When my people speak with one voice, I must consider their will... especially when it is a constant, collective demand."

"So if they collectively demand you cut off your finger, would you do it, then?" I fired back.

He frowned. "Watch your tone."

I tried so much to keep my anger and frustration at bay, but couldn't.

"You tore me away from my family just to satisfy your people, sacrificing my freedom and happiness to appease them." I continued, inching forward. "What kind of leader... what kind of Alpha does that? A true Alpha should be strong enough to say no. To deny his people"

Zephyr leaned against a wall, arms crossed. "Your parents gave you away. They could have refused the money, but they didn't. Your anger is misplaced. If you seek someone to blame, look to them, not me."

My hands balled into fists. "You preyed on their weaknesses!" I exclaimed. "You knew our situation... that we were poor, that they were desperate. You knew they would take the offer!" My voice shook with a torrent of emotions, but mostly sadness. Sadness that he was right.

My parents could've refused the money. They could have said no, their daughter was not an animal to be bought. But they didn't.

"You could have chosen anyone. Women throw themselves at you, I'm certain of it. Women who would die to be your chosen... your mate. Why take me, someone unwilling?"

"I did not choose you," he said, with a shrug. "Alexandros and Nikolaos did."

"Then what's stopping you from setting me free? From choosing another?" I challenged.

"I don't want another."

The next words died on my tongue.

There wasn't an ounce of humor in his tone, he had sounded serious. Like he meant every word.

I gulped hard. "What do you mean you don't want another?"

Zephyr left the wall, uncrossing his arms and walking back towards me. "It means I want you," he said again. "It means I choose you. Not just to be my mate, but my wife. My queen. My Luna."

†††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††

ZEPHYR WRATH

I did not want another. Not after meeting her.

I never believed in love at first sight, until a few minutes ago... until it happened to me.

I never wanted a bride. Not until her.

The woman who was to be my wife was more beautiful than I'd imagined.

Breathtaking, even in old clothes.

Her golden hair fell to her ass in thick waves, and her eyes, grey as stormy skies, flared with anger, hatred, and challenge.

She was fierce, daring, and a rare beauty... one I couldn't believe my brothers had managed to find.

I was drawn to her in a way I couldn't understand.

It wasn't the mere mating bond that caused this pull, no, it felt beyond the cliché emotional tie that connected two wolves.

It was more.

Minutes after Lyla left, the door flew open, and my brothers, Alexandros and Nikolaos, sauntered in.

They had been the ones who finally made me accept the offer of marriage. For years, they had been on my neck, pushing the matter at every opportunity.

Alexandros, especially, the second-born, had been the most insistent.

"So, how do you like your new bride?" He asked loudly, dropping onto my couch. Alex was blessed with red hair and blue eyes like our late mother. Despite his large frame and hardened expression, he was the most compassionate.

Nikolaos, the youngest, had dark hair like mine and deep, thoughtful, dark eyes. He was the calmest of us all. He smiled before replying to Alex. "He likes her. I told you he'd like her."

Nik sat on the arm of the couch that Alex lounged on. "So, when's the wedding? Maria must be itching to plan one."

"Itching?" Alex snorted. "You've forgotten she was the biggest supporter of Zeph and Christina's union. If it were up to her, that wedding would've happened already." He stretched out on the couch, crossing his arms behind his head and one leg over the other. "She hates Lyla. I could tell when I handed her over to her."

Christina Sinclair was a family friend. The Sinclairs and the Wraths had been close for generations, their partnership strengthening the bond between our families. The Sinclairs traded in media and publicity, controlling some of the most influential news outlets, magazines, and television networks.

My family, on the other hand, dominated real estate.

It was a mutually beneficial arrangement, one that kept both companies flourishing for years.

The Sinclairs ensured the Wrath name remained what it was... prestigious, making our properties the most sought-after in the market, while we provided the Sinclairs with prime locations for their headquarters, studios, and other high-end media ventures.

Last year, Christina had been betrothed to me. But I ended the arrangement before it could gather attention.

She loved me, but I saw her as nothing more than a childhood friend. I felt nothing for her.

"I want her to marry me willingly," I replied. "That's going to take some time. The wedding can wait."

Alex sat up abruptly, staring at me like I'd lost my mind. "On what earth does that happen, Zeph? She despises you. Need I remind you that she had no say in this... arrangement? We didn't win her over, we bought her, plain and simple. If she had a choice, do you really think she'd pick you? Willingly? You're the monster in her story."

"She can grow to love me." I replied, pondering on it, "I know she can."

He let out a sharp laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, for fuck's sake, this isn't some slow-burn romance. It's not a marriage of convenience. All you need to do is turn her, give the pack a Luna, get her pregnant, and have a few babies. That's it."

I slipped on a T-shirt, meeting both their gazes. "Interesting. I don't see either of you fathering children yet."

I let the silence endure for a moment before adding, "Remind me... how old are you two again?" I pretended to ponder the question before turning to Alex. "Ah, yes. 103." Then to Nik. "100."

I arched a brow. "So tell me, is it not time for you both to settle down? Start families? Build the bloodline?"

Nik scoffed. "Don't turn this on us. This is about you. You're the firstborn, the Alpha. Once you take a Luna and have heirs, you'll appear more, uh... complete, as it has always been. Our family has a legacy to uphold, and no one wants a single Alpha leading for long. A mated Alpha is a stronger Alpha... an image of stability and power. That's how it's always been."

Our father had died four years ago, passing the title of Alpha to me. So far, no one had dared to challenge my leadership. They weren't ready to die.

Our pack was large, made up of multiple families that had sworn loyalty to the Wraths for generations. At the center was our immediate line... myself, my brothers Nik and Alex, but our reach extended far beyond. My uncles, Zeb, Stefan, and Andreas, led powerful packs of their own, but remained blood-bound allies. Their families weren't part of my pack, but they were family in the truest sense, the kind you call when war is near. As for the rest... some were old bloodlines who'd served the Wraths since before I was born. Others were Lycans who'd earned their place through loyalty and trust.

While the heart of the pack remained here in Aspen, Colorado, where we lived, our people were scattered across other regions as well, maintaining our presence in important territories. Some of them held leadership over smaller groups or outposts, but all ultimately answered to me. That was how it had always been.

"The people will wait," I said.

"Zephyr..."

"The people will wait," I repeated, with a tone of finality. "They're getting what they want. They just need to learn a little patience."

After a tense moment, Alex broke the silence.

"Whatever," he drawled, getting up from the couch. "I'm famished. Let's head downstairs for breakfast."

He made for the door with Nik but paused just before stepping out.

"Oh, and by the way, Christina's dropping by this morning too."

I sighed tiredly. Christina still visited from time to time, despite the rejection. Maybe she thought her presence would change my mind, but it wouldn't. I'd known her since childhood, I was used to seeing her.

"Stopping by on the morning Lyla arrives? What a coincidence," I remarked sarcastically, fixing Alex a glare.

"Hey" he whined. "Don't look at me that way, I didn't tell her anything. She probably heard whispers. You know she's in media, I'm sure she has spies of her own."

I waved him off dismissively.

"I guess it's a good thing," Nik said with a smirk, nudging Alex. "His rejected and his betrothed can get acquainted this morning. Sounds like we're in for a lovely day. Right, Alex?"

Nik looped an arm over Alex's shoulder as they left the room.

Once the door shut behind them, I exhaled deeply, two things on my mind... two women on my mind.

Christina and Lyla. One, my past. The other, my present, and possibly my future.

I got ready to head downstairs, bracing myself to face them both.

LYLA

Celine was far more pleasant than Maria. She showed me to my room, where a sleek laptop and phone were waiting on my bed, picked out a dress, and prepared everything for my shower. Once I was done, she combed my hair and did my makeup.

By the time she was finished, I almost couldn't recognize myself.

Gone was the old, ugly material, replaced by an elegant black maxi dress that hugged every curve of my body.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Now, you will have breakfast with the masters," she replied, standing beside me by the dressing mirror, her hands clasped together in front of her.

Suddenly, the sound of rich, sophisticated feminine laughter floated up from downstairs.

I looked at Celine. "Who's that?"

"Miss Christina Sinclair, ma'am."

"Call me Lyla."

She hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"Who's Miss Sinclair?" I asked.

"She's a close friend of the Wraths."

"Mhm." I tilted my head curiously. "How close?"

Celine fidgeted with her fingers nervously. "She was supposed to marry Master Zephyr last year. Their families arranged it long ago, but he called it off."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "I suppose he didn't love her."

"I don't want another."

"... it means I want you. It means I choose you. Not just to be my mate, but my wife. My queen. My Luna."

My heart pounded at the memory of those words.

"So, she still visits after that?" I asked, mentally shaking myself free of the thought.

Celine nodded. "Their families have been close for years. A rejection wasn't enough to sever that bond."

Even without seeing Christina, I knew she still had feelings for Zephyr.

Maybe I could use that to my advantage... find a way to reunite them, freeing myself in the process. But how?

"We must go now... Lyla."

I stood, smoothing the dress over my curves. Celine had brushed my hair down, adding curls and other complicated details.

She smiled. "You look beautiful."

I smiled back warmly. "Thank you."

I was beautiful. Even in poverty, my beauty had managed to shine through, garnering attention wherever I went. But the men who noticed were always lustful, never with good intentions.

Celine and I descended the stairs quietly. At the table, Zephyr sat with his two brothers and Christina.

She was slim and elegant, her posture screaming class. Her black hair shone like silk, spilling over her shoulders, and her armless dress bared her flawless shoulders.

Christina Sinclair was, in fact, a beauty.

I could hardly believe Zephyr had turned down someone like her, and instead, set his sights on me.

As soon as we reached the bottom step, all eyes turned to me.

I froze momentarily, suddenly aware of their scrutiny.

The redhead, the same one who had taken me from my home, let out a slow whistle as I came into full view.

"Why, hello there," he said with a small smile, eyes running over me.

I merely glared at him.

"Isn't she such a beauty?" He continued. "Who knew underneath all those rags was..."

Zephyr slammed his fist into the table, cutting him off.

"Alex," he said through his teeth, his green heating eyes like flames. "I will not entertain such comments about my wife-to-be. You will respect her."

Christina slowly turned to him, hazel eyes widening in disbelief, failing to hide her shock.

Alex, though still smiling, nodded and continued his meal in silence.

A second later, Christina forced a tight smile and turned to me.

"Please, join us," she said.

I moved toward the table slowly, Zephyr's eyes following my every step.

Suddenly, I loathed the attention this dress brought.

It accentuated my small waist, my moderate chest, my full hips, and my very fleshy behind. The loose, worn clothes I used to wear had hidden these details. Now, they were on full display.

I got seated across from Zephyr, my eyes dropping to the assortment of dishes before me. Food I had once craved, food I had only dreamed of tasting. And yet, now that it sat before me, I had no appetite.

The dark-haired brother studied me.

"Hello," he greeted softly.

I looked up, surprised. His voice was gentle... so different from the cold countenance he had exuded the other day. Even now, despite his intimidating looks, there was something almost... kind in his tone.

He picked up an empty plate, carefully selecting portions of food before placing it in front of me.

"Eat," he said.

"Thank you."

He gave me a small smile before returning to his own meal.

As I lifted my head, my gaze clashed with Zephyr's once more.

His eyes remained trained on me, intense as the word itself, until the silence was broken by Christina's voice.

"So, Lyla," she began smoothly, "Tell us where you're from." She brushed away some hair strands from her face, her red lips burgeoning into a forced smile. "I believe I heard rumors of a little farm somewhere around here."

I smiled coldly at her subtle attempt to humiliate me.

"Yes," I answered, sitting straighter and meeting her gaze, unabashed.

Cold blue eyes bore into mine.

"A little farm in Aspcreek," I said, pausing intentionally, before continuing, no shame in my tone. "Though I wouldn't exactly call it a farm, considering most of the animals had already been sold. All we had left was an old dairy cow and maybe ten chickens."

The red-haired brother smothered a laugh.

Christina twirled her fork. "A farm girl."

She turned to Zephyr, as if questioning his choice.

I set down my knife. "Yes, a farm girl," I replied. "One who knows how to raise and care for animals, who understands hard work, who has skills that actually matter in the real world." I tilted my head before adding, "And you? What exactly do you bring to the table... besides a title and a sharp tongue?"

The dark-haired brother nearly choked on his apple juice.

Christina fumed. "I am CEO of Sinclair News and Publishing, and princess of the Sinclair Pack. You will address me with respect."

I arched a brow, letting out an unimpressed scoff. "Is that supposed to scare me? Respect is earned. And you, Christina, have earned nothing." I cut a piece of roast duck and brought it to my mouth, chewing slowly. "Oh, and in case it hasn't sunk in yet... I am to be the Luna of the Wrath Pack. If we're talking about rank, power, or supremacy..." I smiled caustically at her. "You bow to me."

I caught sight of a small smirk on Zephyr's lips.

It was a title I despised. Luna. A role I wanted to escape. But if claiming it, owning it, meant putting Christina in her place, then I didn't hesitate.

A deafening silence descended until Christina released a sound of anger, as she gripped the tablecloth tighter, her fingernails growing into sharp claws.

"Control yourself," Zephyr warned with a glare.

"She disrespected me." Christina snapped. "She needs to be taught a lesson."

Zephyr's tone hardened. "You will control yourself at this table, or you will get out."

They stared at each other for a long moment, engaged in some heated, nonverbal warfare, before Christina finally backed down and exhaled loudly, pushing back her chair and smoothing down her silky dress as she stood.

She turned to the red-haired brother. "Alex, I'm going to wolf out," she announced, her eyes moving to me with barely hidden spite. "I can't stand the sight of her."

I chose to say nothing, watching as she stormed out of the house.

I had considered trying to push Zephyr and Christina back together so I could be free. But not anymore. I loathed her.

Still, I was curious as to where she was going to shift.

Then I remembered the Wrath estate was massive, surrounded by vacant plots of land and thick woods. Of course. It gave them the privacy they needed to wolf out freely.

After Christina left, the silence returned.

Alex was the one to break it. "I understand the need to stand up for yourself, but there's something you should know," he said, his blue eyes settling on me. "You don't live among humans anymore, you're surrounded by wolves. Werewolves," he emphasized. "Not all of them have mastered self-control the way our family has... or even Christina."

He paused for a moment before continuing. "Werewolves are quick to anger. But as Lycans, we have better restraint. Push the wrong one too far, and you may not like the outcome."

I nodded, replying, "I understand."

"Good." He went back to his food.

I stabbed my fork into the roast duck before stealing another glance at Zephyr. He hadn't moved from where he sat opposite me, looking every bit like the malevolent king of darkness.

He had changed out of the robe into a fitted black T-shirt and matching slacks. His hair had dried, slightly tousled, with a few strands falling over his face.

I could understand why Christina still pined for him. He wasn't just wealthy and powerful, he was utterly and dangerously handsome.

I tore my gaze away, irritated with myself.

I should hate him. I did hate him. But it wasn't enough. The hatred should have blinded me, should have made me immune to his presence. And yet, no matter how much I wanted to, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't ignore him.

It was only my first day in this house. There was still time... time to purge him from my thoughts once and for all.

I forced myself to focus on my plate, ignoring the feel of his gaze on me.

I had bigger problems than the undeniable fact that Zephyr Wrath, my husband-to-be, was devastatingly handsome.

I had to find a way out of this marriage, and I had to find it fast.