~CHAPTER TWO~
SILAVANA
"Do you, Alpha Garrick, take Morgana of the Crescent Moon Pack to be your wife?" The high priest's voice echoed through the ancient, stone carved hall.
"I do." Garrick's voice rumbled.
The sound vibrated through the floorboards, sending a cold shiver down to my spine. Standing beside him, under the heavy weight of the bridal veil, I felt like a lamb standing next to a mountain lion.
Morgana and I were identical twins, shading the same sharp jawline, high cheekbones and dark long hair. But there was one fatal difference - our eyes. Morgana had fierce gold flecked brown eyes, while mine were a deep silver. To cover the deceit, my mother had me wear lenses and insisted on a double layered silk veil that blurred my features to anyone looking from a distance. Because my parents had hidden me in the cellar my entire life, no one in the pack and certainly no one in the Alpha King's court even knew I existed.
To the world, I was Morgana.
"And do you, Morgana," the priest turned his eyes to me. "Take Alpha King Garrick to be your husband, to submit to his pack, and bind your soul to his?"
The silence stretched. It felt like air had been sucked out of the room. My chest seized, the corset of the heavy white gown squeezing my ribs until I could barely breathe.
I wanted to look back, to look at my father and my mother for sanctuary. But I knew there was no need.
I swallowed hard and nodded once. "I do."
Garrick didn't wait for the priest to finish the blessing. He stepped foward, his massive scarred hands reaching out to lift the heavy veil. As the silk parted, his dark bottomless eyes locked onto mine. For a second, his pupils dilated. His nostrils flared, taking in a sharp breath as if searching for something in my scent. My heart hammered against my ribs, terrified that the synthetic Beta musk would fail me now.
Before I could shrink back, his large hand cupped the back of my neck. His fingers were warm, but his grip was firm.
He pulled me in, his lips crashing against mine.
It wasn't a gentle kiss of union. It was a dominant, ruthless claim. His teeth grazed my bottom lip, sharp and demanding, drawing a tiny drop of blood. His heavy, intoxicating scent of cedar, burnt leather, and ozone flooded my senses, wrapping around me like a physical cage.
'You are mine now,' I heard his voice in my head. 'And you will learn your place.'
When he finally pulled away, his dark eyes lingered on my bleeding lip. A cold, victorious smirk touched the corner of his mouth before he turned to face the cheering crowd, dragging me along by my waist.
~~~~
By evening, the noise of the ceremony had faded into a suffocating silence.
I had been transported directly to Garrick's ancestral home - a massive, imposing fortress built into the side of a jagged black mountain.
I sat on the edge of the massive four poster bed in my new quarters, staring at the unfamiliar grand stone walls. The room was cold, scenting of pine.
The heavy double doors clicked open, making me jump.
A line of maids walked into the room, keeping their heads bowed low. They carried heavy silver trays filled with crystal decanters, fresh kindest and a burning brass censers that released a thick, sweet smelling jasmine smoke into the air. They moved with absolute silence, arranging the items on the table and lighting dozens of tall wax candles around the bed.
An older woman, her bday hair pulled back into a tight bun stepped foward. She wore the dark uniform of the house staff and bowed deeply to me.
"My queen," she said, her voice formal and clipped. "It's time for us to help you prepare."
I frowned, my hand instinctively clutching the lace fabric over my chest. "Prepare? For what? The feasts are over, and I am exhausted. I would like to change into something comfortable and sleep."
The elderly woman froze. Her brow burrowed, she looked up, her eyes scanning my tense shoulders and the guarded posture I couldn't seem to hide.
"Sleep, Your Grace?" She asked, a faint, almost pitying look crossing her face. "Surely you've been explained the customs of our pack to you,"
"What customs?" I demanded, a cold dread starting to pool in my stomach. Surely there's nothing I missed, yes?
"The full moon reaches it's peak in less than an hour," She explained. "The Alpha King does not delay his pack duties. We must wash the ceremonial paint from your face and dress you in the silk binding robe,"
She took a step closer, gesturing to the heavy bed behind me. "It's time to mate with the Alpha, Your Grace. He's already on his way to your chamber to claim his bride."
