BRIDE OF WRATH

BRIDE OF WRATH

Riley Ruth · Completed · 134.3k Words

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Introduction

"You say it's not possible to have feelings for me before the wedding," Zephyr said again, his voice roughening, "yet your body language always seems to say the opposite when I'm close."
He reached out slowly, picking a strand of golden hair and toying with it.
"Like now," He continued seductively, tucking the hair in its rightful place before deliberately letting his fingers brush against the back of my ear.
I took in a shuddering breath at the contact, my gaze dropping to his lips before darting away shyly.

Zephyr tipped my chin up, making me look into his eyes.
"You're always so quick to run your mouth," he scolded, teasing me by slowly running his thumb over my bottom lip. "But right now you're quiet. Why is that, Wildflower, mmm?"
"Stay back, Zeph." I said weakly, his name coming out in a whisper.
My eyes drifted to his lips again.
"I don't think you want me to," he said, lowering downward till his lips were close to my ear. "Why… so… quiet. Mm?"

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

Sold into a forced marriage with Zephyrus Wrath, a ruthless, impossibly powerful Alpha Lycan, Lyla Gray becomes a pawn in a tradition she doesn’t understand and refuses to accept.
She is the one woman who won’t submit even when trapped in a world where mates are worshipped and claimed without question.

Zephyrus never wanted a wife. He never needed one.
But from the moment the stubborn, defiant Lyla steps into his domain, she becomes an obsession he cannot control... and a weakness his enemies are quick to notice.

Chapter 1

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 meagre 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 my parents and me, 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 grey 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, realise 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 rumoured 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 realising 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."

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