The Shadow Bride
Chapter 1: The Marriage No One Wanted
The bells tolled at midnight. Not for joy, not for blessing, but for doom.
Elara's veil clung to her damp hair as rain poured from the heavens, soaking the blood-red gown the villagers had forced upon her. She stood before the iron gates of Blackthorn Manor, her fists clenched tight at her sides.
Behind her, the whispers of the crowd rose like a cruel hymn.
"She won't last the night."
"No bride ever has."
"They say he devours their souls…"
The words sliced into her ears, but she refused to flinch. She had grown up with cruelty; she had learned to keep her head high even when her heart trembled.
She had no family left to defend her. No friends to mourn her. No choice but to walk forward.
The gates groaned open with an echo that sounded like a beast's growl. Cold mist slithered out, curling around her ankles as though the shadows themselves had come to claim her.
Elara stepped inside.
The world seemed to change at once. The air grew colder, the storm louder, and the towering mansion of black stone loomed before her like a predator waiting to swallow her whole. Its windows glowed faintly, as though eyes were watching from within.
Then she saw him.
The Shadow King.
He stood at the top of the steps, tall and broad, draped in midnight-black robes. His face was carved with sharp, cruel lines, and his eyes—oh, his eyes—were silver, glowing faintly as if forged from moonlight. Not human. Not safe.
Elara's knees nearly buckled, but she forced her body to obey. Step by step, she climbed until she stood before him.
"You came willingly?" His voice was low, dangerous, as though every word carried the weight of thunder.
Elara swallowed. Fear burned in her veins, but she steadied her voice.
"I came because I refuse to die running."
For the briefest moment, the Shadow King's lips curved into something like a smile. But it was not kind. It was a predator's amusement, cold and sharp.
"Interesting," he murmured. "The others wept. The others begged."
Her chest rose and fell, her courage thin but unbroken. "I am not the others."
A silence fell between them. The storm raged, lightning split the sky, and the shadows seemed to lean closer, listening.
Then, with a wave of his hand, the doors to the manor opened behind him. Darkness poured out like living smoke.
"Then come inside, little bride," the Shadow King said, his silver eyes gleaming. "Let us see if your courage can outlast the night."
Elara stepped into the darkness—
and the doors slammed shut.