Celine sat on the edge of the bed, the wedding dress spread out across her lap. Carefully, she smoothed the silk bodice with both hands, tracing the embroidery she had worn only hours ago. The gown still held the scent of petals and firelight, a reminder of everything that had changed in a single day.
She reached for the cedar-lined box at her feet and began folding the dress, layer by layer. The long train went first, then the bodice, then the delicate sleeves. She tucked a sachet of dried flowers between the folds, a quiet, pointless gesture—but she did it anyway.
When the fabric was finally arranged just right, she lowered the lid, pressing it shut until the soft click of the latch sealed it closed.
Her wedding dress was packed away.
And with it, the last pieces of the girl who had walked into that hall unsure of what would happen next.
The crown sat untouched on the dresser.
But none of that kept her up.
It was the thought, the truth, that had taken root and wouldn’t let go.
What if I die before I’m truly mated?
The thought shouldn’t have mattered. The bond was already sealed. The ceremony had been interrupted, yes—but it happened. Leon had chosen her. The pack had accepted her.
But still. The King had looked at her like she was a weapon left unattended. Like she was destined to explode. And worse—he was waiting for her to do it.
So what good was a wedding if doom always followed?
She stared at the ceiling, breath caught in her throat, the ache behind her ribs constant now. She didn’t feel safe enough to sleep. Or to hope.
Leon shifted beside her, sensing her tension. His arm moved around her waist, tugging her gently toward him. “You’re thinking too loud.”
Celine gave a small laugh, bitter at the edges. “Sorry.”
“What is it?”
She hesitated. Then, voice small, “Do you think I’ll live long enough to deserve you?”
Leon sat up slightly, his hand coming to her face. “Don’t say that.”
“I’m serious.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t even know what I am. Or what the King wants from me. Every time I start to feel happy, something rips it away.”
Leon leaned closer, pressing his forehead to hers. “Then take it. Right now. Take what’s yours.”
She looked up at him, eyes wide and glassy. “Even if it’s only for a moment?”
His answer was his kiss.
It was rough at first—desperate. Like he needed to prove she was real. Like he needed her just as much as she needed him. Their bond surged between them, bright and pulsing, grounding her in a way no prophecy ever could.
She kissed him back with everything she had, her hands fisting in his shirt, his name caught in her throat.
Leon’s breath hitched as he slammed Celine against the wall, his hands gripping her hips with a ferocity that left bruises blooming like violets on her pale skin. Their lips crashed together in a messy, desperate kiss, teeth clashing, tongues tangling like they were starving for each other.
Celine whimpered, her fingers clawing at his shirt, yanking it off so hard the buttons popped and scattered across the floor. His chest was a fucking masterpiece—hard, sculpted muscle glistening with sweat.
Leon groaned, his hands yanking her dress up over her hips, the thin fabric tearing as he shoved it out of the way. His cock was already rock-hard, straining against his pants, every pulse of his heartbeat making it twitch, aching to be inside her. Celine’s panties were soaked, the slick heat of her pussy staining the lace as she ground against him, her hips rolling in a rhythm that made his vision blur.
“Fuck, Celine,” he growled, his voice rough with need. He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, the other fumbling with his belt, his pants dropping to the floor with a thud. His cock sprang free, thick and throbbing, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. Celine’s eyes darkened with lust, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she stared at him like he was her last meal.
“Now, Leon,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Fuck me now.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Gripping her ass, he lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he slammed into her in one brutal thrust. Celine’s back arched, a cry ripping from her throat as he filled her completely, every inch of his cock stretching her tight, wet pussy. Leon’s breathing was ragged, his hips crashing into her with a rhythm that was almost feral, each thrust driving her higher, closer to the edge.
“You feel so fucking good,” he grunted, his teeth sinking into her shoulder as he fucked her harder, deeper. Celine’s nails raked down his back, leaving angry red welts in their wake, her moans growing louder, more desperate. Her pussy clenched around him, as she teetered on the brink of orgasm.
“Leon, I’m—” she gasped, but he cut her off with another hard thrust, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside her that made her see stars. Her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body trembling, her pussy tightening around him in pulses that dragged him over the edge with her. Leon’s groan was guttural, his hips stuttering as he came, his cock pumping her full of his cum, hot and thick.
They collapsed against the wall, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, their bodies still trembling from the intensity of it. Leon’s forehead rested against hers, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was softer now, but no less urgent.
“Again,” Celine whispered, her voice hoarse, her eyes burning with need. And Leon didn’t hesitate to give her exactly what she wanted.