~~Olivia’s POV~~

Our house ballroom had always smelled faintly of bleach, but that morning it reeked of roses and disinfectant. My father had turned the sterile room into a wedding hall overnight. Rows of chairs lined the space. White drapes hung from the ceiling. The flowers were fake, sprayed with sanitizer. It all looked like a fairy tale, but it felt like a trap.

I walked in slowly, my wedding dress trailing behind me. The satin felt heavy, like chains around my ankles. Lucas stood at the other end, waiting. His smile was sharp and devilish, like he had already won. Ava and my stepmother sat in the front row beside my father, their faces filled with satisfaction. My father looked like he didn’t even want to be there, but here he was anyway, staring at me as if I were a stain on his perfect life.

My heart cracked again. This marriage wasn’t about love. It wasn’t even about me. It was just a way for my father to get rid of me, to wipe his hands clean of the burden he thought I was. They all saw me as a parasite, a mistake. Well, after today, they’d never have to see me again.

Normally, a father walks his daughter down the aisle. Mine had refused. When I came home last night, no one even noticed I had gone out. No one cared. So I walked myself, step by step, across the floor toward the altar.

Now standing before the altar, the priest began to speak. “We are gathered here to join these two in holy matrimony.”

Holy matrimony. I almost laughed out loud. This was nothing but a business deal for the Cobblestones and a relief for my father. Nothing holy about it.

The priest’s voice rolled on, “Do you take this man as your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

I was silent. The hall tensed like a drawn bow.

Lucas squeezed my hand, his panic flashing behind his fake smile. “Olivia, say yes.”

I turned my head. My father’s face was already red with warning. Ava and my stepmother glared at me, their lips moving as they mouthed, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

I knew the rules. If I said yes, life would continue just as it had: a loveless marriage, new walls, and new chains. If I said no, I’d lose the only family I had ever known. I would step into something unknown. Maybe even something foolish. But for the first time in my life, it would be my decision. Mine alone.

I looked at Lucas. Then I pulled my hand free.

“No,” I said. “I do not.”

The hall erupted. Gasps, whispers, and a few shouts. My father shot up from his seat and rushed toward me, his rage and anger so evident on his red face.

“You insolent brat!” he roared. “Do you take pride in humiliating me? Isn’t being a sick burden enough disgrace already?”

His words cut deeper than knives. My heart twisted painfully in my chest.

My stepmother rose, touching his arm, her voice sugary. “Honey, calm down. People are watching.”

Lucas and Ava exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. I thought about exposing them, telling everyone about their affair, but what good would it do? No one would believe me. They never had before.

“That’s it,” my father barked. “You’re going to the medical facility, you brat.” He raised his hand, as if to slap me.

The doors of the hall burst open.

A man walked in wearing a black fitted tuxedo, the fabric hugging his muscles like it had been stitched onto him. Behind him were two men just as tall, almost as strong, their eyes scanning the crowd. My heart jumped. Fenrir.

He moved fast, crossing the room in a few steps. He caught my father’s raised hand and brought it down, and then surprisingly, he clasped it in a handshake. A smug smile on his lips.

“Who… who the hell are you?” My father stammered, confusion replacing his anger.

Fenrir’s smile widened, his dimples deep, his teeth bright. “Well, sir,” he said smoothly, “I’m your son-in-law.”

My father stumbled back, shock painted across his face. My stepmother clutched his arm to steady him. Ava’s and Lucas’s jaws dropped open.

One of the men with Fenrir strode forward and grabbed Lucas by the collar, dragging him off the stage like he weighed nothing. Lucas’s parents began to protest, but one look from Fenrir silenced them instantly. The hall went quiet, every eye on us.

“Priest,” Fenrir said, his voice commanding. “Carry on.”

The two men he’d brought with him took position at the altar, facing the crowd, their stance telling everyone to sit down and shut up. The priest blinked, clearly unsure and confused, but began again.

“Do you take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife? To love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, till death do you both part?”

“Yes, I do,” Fenrir said without hesitation.

The priest turned to me. My heart hammered in my chest. “Do you take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“Yes,” I said. “I do.”

I really said it. There was no going back now. I was about to live with a stranger for a year and bear his child. It was crazy. It was absurd. But it was also my choice.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest said.

Fenrir’s arm slid around my waist, and he kissed me—deep, firm, and full of heat. My heart raced so fast I almost forgot where I was. For a brief moment, I almost believed this was real and not a show to get me out of here.

My father scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m sure you know this means you are no longer my daughter. Let’s see how long you survive on your own with a weak immune system.”

Fenrir turned his head, his voice steady and cool. “Sorry, old man, but she won’t need your protection or restriction anymore. She can go out without any problem.”

It was the first time anyone had ever spoken for me. My chest tightened, but not from sickness. From something else. Something fluttering.

“That’s impossible,” Ava snapped. “She can’t go out. We even had to have the wedding in this house because of her disorder.”

She wasn’t wrong. From the car I was supposed to ride in with Lucas after the wedding to the house we were to be moving into together, it was all sterilized and disinfected.

Fenrir took my hand and lifted it. “Watch us,” he said. “This is the last time you’ll ever see her. Since you’ve disowned her, from today on, she bears my name.”

He guided me down the steps and toward the exit.

“And who the hell are you?” my father shouted after us.

Fenrir smiled over his shoulder. “Fenrir Lycaon of the Lycaon Empire.”

My father’s eyes went wide. The hall erupted with gasps and murmurs. From their reactions, I could tell he was someone important. But I didn’t know who he was. How could I? I’d been locked up all my life.

The two men swung open the doors, revealing the bright compound beyond. Normally, I would have taken the side hallway or worn a mask. But this time, I walked straight out, barefaced, into the open.

Behind me, Lucas’s voice rose in a mocking whisper. “This is suicide. She can’t go out exposed like that. Her body can’t take it.”

Ava chuckled. “Leave her. It’s her funeral.”

I stepped into the sunlight. The breeze touched my face. I inhaled deeply.

Nothing happened.

Their jaws dropped.

A sleek black SUV rolled into the compound and stopped in front of us. Fenrir opened the door. “Get in, wife.”

Wife? He said it so casually. So smooth on his tongue. This man needed an Oscar.

I slid into the backseat. He closed the door and climbed in after me.

Before the car drove off, I glanced back through the window at my family. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide, and their mouths open. Confused. Distraught. Powerless.

I was actually breaking free from these people. My brain still couldn't fully believe it.

The car pulled away, leaving them behind like a bad dream.

I turned forward, Fenrir at my side, my heart thudding like a war drum. He had kept his part of the deal. Now it was my turn.

Getting pregnant for him.