Episode 6

The following day, Liana entered Freya's room, a radiant smile on her face.

"Good morning!" she exclaimed, her joy contrasting with the confusion that hung over Freya.

"Good morning!" replied the young woman, sitting up in bed, still struggling to understand the situation.

Soon after, Arya entered the room and sat beside Freya, while Liana got up to fetch something.

"Good morning, Freya! We need to get you ready now!" she exclaimed, the urgency in her voice intriguing Freya.

"Ready for what?" she asked, confusion growing.

"For your wedding!" Arya's answer made Freya's heart race, and the young woman became distressed and nervous.

"What wedding? What do you mean?" disbelief was reflected on her face, her voice filled with confusion.

Arya held her face in her hands, forcing her to look into her eyes.

"My dear, look out the window," she said, her expression serious. Freya turned to look, and the sight that greeted her distressed her even more: the devastating storm was still raging over the pack, as if the world were in imbalance.

"The gods sent you to be the Alpha's mate. We need to contain their fury. You need to marry Orion!" exclaimed the matriarch, the determination in her voice clear and unwavering.

Freya felt a chill down her spine.

"I don't want to get married! I didn't come here for this!" she protested, frustration evident in her words.

"Dear, we have to keep the peace between the wolves and the gods. If this marriage is their will, you will marry our Alpha, whether you like it or not!" Arya's voice grew firmer, as if every word carried the weight of a prophecy.

Freya was speechless, sadness enveloping her heart. The thought of being forced to marry someone she barely knew distressed her. Meanwhile, a group of women entered the room, bringing a stunning dress, made of fine fabrics and adorned with details that reflected the pack's culture.

"Let's get you ready!" they said in unison, starting to work swiftly as if time were running out.

Freya watched, unable to protest, as the women wrapped her in layers of fabric, their nimble hands transforming her appearance. The weight of the situation oppressed her, and the storm outside seemed to echo her inner agony. With each movement, Freya felt more trapped, as if she were being molded not only for a wedding but for a destiny she had not chosen.

...****************...

During the ceremony, the atmosphere was charged with expectation. The pack was gathered, all the betas and omegas watching in silence, while the alpha, Orion, waited beside the priestess, his presence imposing and serious.

Freya made her entrance, her blonde hair loose, falling in soft waves. She looked like a goddess, but her eyes were downcast, reflecting the inner struggle that consumed her. Every step she took towards Orion seemed heavy.

As they stood face to face, the ceremony began.

"We are gathered here under the blessing of the gods and the pack to unite two souls in a sacred bond. Freya, you are the chosen one, and Orion, you are the alpha who will protect and guide this union," said the priestess, her voice echoing through the clearing, reverberating among the trees.

Freya felt Orion's penetrating gaze beside her, and the tension between them was palpable. The silence of the audience seemed to increase the pressure in her chest. The priestess continued, reciting ancient and sacred words, while Freya struggled to stay focused, trying not to let herself be carried away by despair.

"Do you agree to be Orion's mate, at all times, in joy and sorrow, until death do you part?" questioned the priestess, looking directly at Freya.

Freya hesitated, her heart pounding. The thought of saying "yes" to something she didn't want terrified her.

"I..." The words barely left her mouth, but the priestess's voice interrupted her.

"And you, Orion, do you accept Freya as your mate, promising to protect and honor her, and taking her as part of your pack?" the priestess asked, directing her serious gaze at the alpha.

Orion, with an unwavering expression, replied:

"Yes, I do."

Freya's heart skipped a beat. He was deciding for them, and the thought of being a part of his life, even unwillingly, confused her. She felt the pack's pressure on her shoulders, all eyes fixed on her, waiting for her answer.

"I..." she began again, but her voice failed.

The priestess, sensing her hesitation, encouraged her with an understanding look.

"Think of the gods, Freya. Think of the pack. Your choice is more than just a simple 'yes.' It's a commitment to all of us."

Freya took a deep breath, feeling the storm inside and around her. Finally, looking at Orion, who was watching her intently, she took courage.

"Yes, I do!" she exclaimed.

After Freya's response, the priestess stepped forward, bringing forth a gleaming blade. The atmosphere became even tenser, and Freya's heart raced. Fear washed over her as she saw the blade, knowing that the next step in the ceremony was the blood pact, a ritual that symbolized their union in a deep and irreversible way.

Freya felt her hands tremble. The thought of a cut, of pain, made her hesitate. She looked to Orion for confirmation or relief but found only the intensity of his gaze, which seemed to mix fury and determination.

With a swift movement, Orion took Freya's hand, holding it firmly, almost roughly, and without hesitation, cut the palm of her hand with the blade. Freya's scream echoed through the clearing, a moan of pain that escaped her lips as a tear streamed down her face. The cut burned, and feelings of helplessness and fear mingled in her chest.

Orion, unfazed, used the same dagger to cut his own hand, his expression remaining serious as if he were ready to endure any pain in the name of the pact. He then took Freya's wounded hand, joining their hands together roughly, allowing their blood to mingle.

"With this blood, we seal our pact," said Orion, his voice deep and authoritative, echoing in the air.

Freya felt the connection, a mixture of pain and something inexplicable that seemed to flow through their bodies. The heat of the boiling blood united them in a way she couldn't fully understand. The voices of the pack began to murmur in approval, and the priestess raised her hands, asking for silence.

"Now, you are one," she declared, and the ceremony continued, enveloping them in sacred words.

After the pact, the storm that had been raging outside had finally calmed down. Arya and the priestess exchanged glances and smiles.

"The Gods are pleased!" exclaimed the priestess.

The ceremony was a milestone, but for Freya, joy seemed distant, like a shadow on a sunny day.

After the ceremony, the young woman stood beside Orion, the pain in her hand throbbing, but the sadness in her heart was much stronger. He was serious, and the tension between them was palpable, as if an abyss separated them.

"Orion, why didn't you warn me?" asked Freya, her voice full of frustration and confusion.

He looked at her with scorn and anger, as if her words were an insult.

"You don't need to be warned! I am the Alpha, and you just obey!" he exclaimed, his voice sharp. With that, he turned and left, leaving Freya alone, loneliness enveloping her like a heavy cloak.

Alone, she felt even worse. The pain in her hand seemed like a constant reminder of what she hadn't chosen, and frustration consumed her.

"Come on, Freya, I'll take you home," exclaimed Liana, who noticed the sadness on the young woman's face.

In the garden, Orion was overflowing with fury. Anger seemed to emanate from him like an aura, and the surrounding pack was cautious, sensing the tension in the air.

"Alpha!" exclaimed a woman who approached, her voice soft and seductive.

Missandre

"Missandre," Orion said, his voice softening as he saw her. He approached her, and there was a connection between them. "I'm sorry about all this. I thought it would be you," he said.

"I know the gods willed it this way. You are the Alpha and you need to do what's best for the pack," Missandre replied, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. "But the Gods won't mind if we continue our relationship."

Orion took Missandre's face in his hands and kissed her, a gesture that seemed so natural to him as Freya watched the scene from afar.

"Don't mind that, you are the chosen one of the gods, she is nobody," exclaimed Liana, trying to lighten the mood. But the image of Orion and Missandre kissing was etched in her mind.

Freya entered the house, each step heavy as if she were carrying the weight of a world that was not hers. The ceremony may have been a rite of union, but for her, it felt more like a prison, and the freedom she so desired slipped through her fingers.

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