Chapter 2 A Bride, A Queen, A Luna

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 humour 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."

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ZEPHYR WRATH

I did not want another 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 were 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.