The Wedding of Shadows

Amara Laurent had always imagined her wedding day differently. As a child, she had dreamed of walking down an aisle of white roses, her heart pounding with joy, her groom watching her with unfiltered love. But reality had a cruel way of twisting dreams into nightmares.

Tonight, she was clad in an opulent red wedding gown, its fabric hugging her frame like a warning rather than an embrace. The color was a stark contrast to the pale tone of her skin, a symbol of blood, of danger, of the contract she had unwillingly signed with her own fate. Her hands trembled as she gripped the bouquet of black roses—chosen, no doubt, by the man waiting at the altar.

Cassian Devereaux.

A name that sent shivers through the city’s elite and left men speechless in his presence. A man who controlled an empire built on whispered threats, ruthless deals, and unseen bloodshed. And now, a man who would be her husband.

The grand hall was filled with strangers cloaked in luxury, their hushed voices barely audible over the melancholic notes of the violin. This wasn’t a celebration. It was a contract sealed under the guise of holy vows, a display of dominance wrapped in silk and lace.

Amara’s father had handed her over like an asset to be traded, his pockets lined with Cassian’s wealth in exchange for her freedom. There had been no choice. No escape. Only submission to the inevitable.

She forced herself forward, her legs like lead, each step bringing her closer to the man who had sentenced her to a life of chains disguised as golden threads.

Cassian stood at the altar, his presence suffocating even from a distance. He was tall, his black suit tailored to perfection, accentuating the sharp cut of his jaw and the calculating glint in his dark eyes. He wasn’t smiling. He didn’t need to. His mere existence demanded obedience.

When she reached him, he extended his hand, and she had no choice but to place hers in his grasp. His fingers were warm, steady—too steady for a man about to wed a stranger.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk yet laced with something darker. Amusement? Possession? She couldn’t tell.

“Am I?” she whispered, meeting his gaze. She refused to cower, though fear coiled inside her like a viper.

His lips curved slightly. Not quite a smile. More like the promise of a game she hadn’t agreed to play.

The officiant began to speak, reciting words of union that felt hollow in her ears. Amara barely heard them, her heartbeat drowning out everything else. When it was time for her vows, she forced the words from her lips, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.

And then came the moment that sealed her fate.

Cassian lifted her veil with a deliberate slowness, his fingers grazing her cheek for the briefest moment. His touch sent a chill down her spine, an unspoken warning wrapped in the gentlest caress.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured before leaning in.

The kiss was unexpected—not gentle, not cruel, but firm. A declaration. A mark of ownership.

As applause echoed through the grand hall, Amara knew that her life as she once knew it was over.

And her new one, filled with shadows and secrets, had just begun.

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