Chapter 2
On our wedding night, my husband, Seth, had a servant draw a straight line across the carpet. "That's your space on the other side of the line," he said.
His voice was icy and melodious, devoid of warmth, much like himself.
"Remember, Elsie. Don't let me catch a whiff of your sickening scent and don't try to touch me," he added.
I stood barefoot on my side of the line docilely, dressed in my elaborate wedding gown, like a delicate, yet lifeless doll.
I lowered my eyes and managed a meek and a bit timid smile. "Yes, Your Highness."
He shot me a look of pure disgust before turning and walking out of the room. The door slammed behind him, shutting the outside world away.
The castle was so quiet that all I could hear was my own heartbeat. My smile faded slowly, replaced by a trace of mockery.
Misogyny, what a perfect cover.
I'd expected this humiliation on my wedding night all along.
In this frozen castle, desire was my only freedom.
So Desmond was the release for my cravings and my deadliest claw.
Three years ago, I rescued Desmond, a dying half-blood, from a pack feud. He was battered and broken, like a forsaken cub. Yet those fierce golden eyes locked onto me, stubborn and unyielding.
I fed him and healed his wounds. From that day on, he worshipped me like a goddess, pledging his life to me.
Only in Desmond's presence did I truly feel alive.
His body burned with raw, primal energy. It was so out of place in this cold, lifeless castle.
"My queen, you've suffered so much," he murmured.
His kiss was fierce as he bit my lip, as if he wanted to erase every trace of the coldness from the sham of a wedding.
"Suffered?" I chuckled softly in his ear, my voice lazy and husky. "No, this is the first day of my hunt. I'm thrilled."
The desire in Desmond's eyes grew stronger.
He ripped my wedding gown apart and pressed me down onto the plush carpet. "Then let your knight present you with his first trophy."
He claimed me with wild, unrestrained aggression.
I wrapped myself around his broad back. My nails dug into his hard muscles, leaving red marks.
The overwhelming pleasure served as the perfect antidote, dulling the pain while keeping my mind sharp.
We tangled together, wild and feverish, moving from the carpet to the sofa, and finally to the wedding bed Seth scorned to touch.
Sweat drenched the sheets, and the air was heavy with the scent of lust and feral musk.
That scent made me calmer than any perfume could.
Just before dawn, Desmond reluctantly pulled away.
"I'll be waiting for you in the nearest forest. Whenever you need me, call me, and I'll come," he promised.
I nodded, watching as his silhouette slipped into the shadows beyond the window.
I walked over to the mirror, completely naked, staring at my body marked with passion.
My pale skin bore hickeys and scratches, forming a wickedly beautiful masterpiece.
I smiled, satisfied.
Perfect. This was the real me, not the meek, timid Elsie Carroll, but Elsie von Heinrich, ready to turn everything upside down.
I took my time in the bathroom, washing away every trace of another man's scent. Then I slipped into a modest nightgown, concealing all the marks.
When I lay back down, the bed was neat and spotless again, as if last night's passion had been merely a dream.
But the air still held a faint trace of a werewolf's scent.
I closed my eyes, a mischievous smile curling my lips.
Seth, my dear husband, I hoped you would enjoy the "wedding gift" I prepared for you.
*****
The next morning, the energy in the air felt heavy at breakfast.
It was only Seth and me at the long table.
He sat at the head, slicing his bloody steak with graceful precision without sparing me a glance the whole time.
I played the role of a frightened, overwhelmed bride with my head down, sipping my milk.
"Did you sleep well last night?" Seth suddenly asked, his voice as icy as ever.
I was startled, and my hand trembled, spilling some milk.
"V-Very well, Your Highness," I replied timidly.
He finally lifted his gaze to look at me, and those deep eyes were like two whirlpools, as if they were trying to draw my soul in.
His gaze lingered on me for a moment, faintly creasing his brow.
"There's a scent on you," Seth said.
My heart jolted, but I maintained my act of confusion, looking lost and helpless.
"R-Really? Maybe it's the fragrance from the scented candles," I replied.
He let out a cold snort, not pressing further, but the scrutiny and suspicion in his eyes grew sharper. "Spare me your cheap little schemes.
"I'm not interested in your body.
"Behave, and you get to keep your place as my wife.
"Otherwise, I won't hesitate to wipe the Carrolls out."
With that, he set down his fork and knife and walked away.
That was a clear threat.
I watched his solitary figure and lowered my lashes to hide the cold smile in my eyes.
Not interested in my body?
That was perfect.