Seraphina's gaze followed him with equal parts fury and confusion. Her chest rose and fell in rapid breaths, the thin fabric of her wedding gown clinging damply to her curves from the night's tension. Her sea-born aura shimmered faintly around her, that faint glow that came when her emotions threatened to break her composure.
"You—" she started, voice trembling, but whether with anger or desire, she couldn't say.
Dominic cut her off with a growl, low and primal, the kind that sent wolves bowing in instinctive submission. "Do not mistake this, mermaid. Whatever this cursed bond tries to force upon me, I will not yield to it."
Her chin lifted, regal despite the chains invisible around her fate. "You fight yourself more than me, Alpha. That much is clear."
The words stung. His jaw clenched as though her voice itself left claw marks on him. For a terrifying moment, he thought he might grab her, crush her mouth beneath his until there was no space for words. Instead, he turned on his heel, muscles taut, and stormed toward the door.
The slam of wood echoed like final judgment, leaving Seraphina standing in the silence of their chamber, her heart thundering, her lips burning with the kiss that never came.
---
The following days unfolded like a theater of knives.
At court, Lyanna wasted no time. The werewolf princess had an elegance born of arrogance, her golden hair always shining, her gowns cut to showcase her wolf-marked beauty. She moved through the great hall like a queen already crowned, ignoring Seraphina as though the true Luna were invisible.
But Lyanna's cruelty wasn't in silence. It was in whispers.
"She reeks of brine," one she-wolf giggled, voice pitched just high enough to carry. "Does the Alpha not choke when she's near?"
Another smirked. "Perhaps that's why he hasn't touched her. Saltwater spoils the bed."
Seraphina kept her chin high, her sea-blue eyes glittering like sapphire blades. But every word lodged like a dagger in her chest.
Dominic sat on the high seat of judgment, every whisper surely reaching his ears. Yet he said nothing. His silence cut worse than laughter.
---
It was during a feast three nights after the wedding that Lyanna made her boldest move yet.
The great hall gleamed with golden braziers and long tables spilling with roasted venison and honeyed mead. Music swelled, wolves laughing and clashing goblets. At the head table, Dominic sat in his black-and-gold finery, a crown of iron worked with wolf motifs resting upon his head. Seraphina, beside him, was draped in a gown of deep green silk—chosen deliberately, for the color of the sea.
Lyanna entered late, every head turning to her like flowers to the sun. She glided forward, her gown scarlet as blood, her smile sweet as poisoned wine. Without bowing, she approached the Alpha King and his Queen, and with a voice honey-smooth she said:
"My Alpha, shall I offer a toast to your… bride?"
The hall quieted, hungry for drama. Dominic's eyes flickered briefly, unreadable, but he gave a single nod.
Lyanna lifted her goblet, facing the hall, not Seraphina. "To the union of wolf and… fish. May it be fruitful."
Laughter erupted. Goblets clashed.
Seraphina's throat tightened, but she did not lower her gaze. She let the insult pass, her lips curling into the faintest smile. "And may your own union, when it comes, be free of venom."
The room went silent.