★AZRAEL★
The Bridal Chorus by Richard Wagner drifted through the vast hall, the melody carried by the masterful fingers of the instrumentalists seated near the dais.
I watched, utterly still and with my breath held as my bride walked through the grand doors, her arm entwined with her father's. The music swelled around her like a ceremonial tide as she stepped forward, white skirts whispering across the marble floor.
My eyes travelled over her slowly.
From the carefully styled hair arranged atop her head…
to the delicate veil falling behind her shoulders…
to the wedding gown that seemed just a fraction too large for her slender frame.
Yet despite that, she was breathtaking.
Her cheeks were flushed a deep rose, her wide eyes darting across the hall as the music guided her forward. Guests lined both sides of the aisle—wolves, nobles, and those fortunate enough to be invited to witness the seventh marriage of Alpha King Azrael.
When she reached the altar—though it was not truly an altar, not in the religious sense—her father released her hand.
A church would have been… ironic.
God himself might strike me dead if I dared step into His house with a bride who, if fate followed its familiar pattern, would not survive the week.
That was why we stood inside one of the ceremonial halls of my castle instead.
I extended my hand toward her.
She hesitated for only a heartbeat before placing her small hand into mine. It was warm and soft.
Her gaze lifted to meet mine as I guided her the remaining steps to stand before the officiant.
The music softened but did not entirely cease.
The priest cleared his throat and began.
"We are gathered here today in the presence of family and friends to witness and celebrate the joining of this man and this woman in holy matrimony."
The audience murmured in polite approval.
Mira held my gaze. I held hers.
As I studied her face more closely, I noticed something I had not seen before—freckles scattered faintly across the bridge of her nose and cheeks.
Interesting. Had she always had those?
Could she possibly become more beautiful?
The priest continued.
"Marriage is an honorable estate, entered into not lightly or unadvisedly, but reverently, deliberately, and in love. It is a union that binds two hearts together, to share in joy and in sorrow, in strength and in weakness, for as long as they both shall live."
Love.
A curious word to hear in a room where death had already visited six brides before her.
"Before you make this solemn vow," the priest said, "you must understand that marriage is a sacred and lifelong commitment…"
His speech faded into background noise.
I had heard these same lines six times already.
Yet strangely, something about this moment felt… different.
Perhaps it was the way she stood so rigid beside me. Or the way her fingers trembled faintly in my grasp.
"Alpha King Azrael," the priest said, pulling my attention back. "Do you take Mira Stormrider standing before you to be your lawfully wedded wife; to love and to cherish, to honor and to protect; to stand beside her in prosperity and hardship, in joy and sorrow, and to remain faithful as long as you both shall live?"
I exhaled slowly. "I do."
The priest nodded and turned to her.
"Mira Stormrider, do you take Alpha King Azrael to be your lawfully wedded husband…"
Her voice came without hesitation.
"I do."
Interesting. For someone who looked as though she might faint at any moment.
The priest smiled politely.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Ah. Now that part I would enjoy.
My bride's breath hitched.
Her gaze dropped briefly to my lips before darting away again.
I smirked faintly and bent down until we were face to face.
Then I kissed her. Her lips were soft, warmer than I expected.
For a moment she froze beneath me, clearly unsure what to do, her inexperience painfully obvious.
Then a small, startled sound escaped her throat. A quiet moan.
Well, that was unexpected.
I deepened the kiss slightly, just enough to test her reaction.
Her fingers tightened against my sleeve, but she did not pull away.
Interesting indeed.
After several seconds, I drew back.
Her lipstick had smeared slightly across her mouth, and judging by the faint taste of it, mine was likely stained as well.
She was red from her throat to the tips of her ears.
Adorable.
We signed the marriage certificate soon after.
The priest wasted no time excusing himself once the ceremony concluded. Being a human surrounded by werewolves—and a half-breed king—was clearly testing the limits of his courage.
Still, I had paid him well enough to ensure his silence.
The human world would descend into chaos if it discovered we were not quite the harmless creatures we appeared to be.
★
The reception took place in the same hall.
My bride had changed into a shorter, lighter dress more suited for dancing.
We shared the first dance beneath the glittering chandeliers before she was claimed by her father.
I found myself partnered with her mother instead.
As we moved across the polished floor, my gaze remained fixed on my bride.
She looked stiff as a board.
Nervous.
Terrified, perhaps.
Fascinating.
After the dancing and the feast, guests began departing one by one until only the closest family members remained.
That was when my grandmother approached. Grandmother Isolde had been watching quietly throughout the evening.
"Congratulations, darling," she said warmly, cupping my bride's cheek.
"Having you as a granddaughter would be lovely."
"Yes…" Mira replied with a strained smile. "You look beautiful."
Grandmother Isolde blinked in surprise before laughing softly.
"Oh dear child, you must not flatter an old woman so."
She patted my shoulder before wandering off toward Mira's parents.
I glanced down at my wife.
She was clenching and unclenching her hands like a woman preparing for execution.
"Scared?"
She nearly jumped out of her skin.
"A… a little," she admitted quietly.
I smiled and wrapped my much larger hand around hers.
"You have no reason to be."
Her eyes lifted to mine.
"Why are you being kind to me?"
A chuckle slipped from my throat.
"It's a farce," I said lightly. "I am not kind."
Her eyes widened.
"Come," I continued. "Let us say goodbye to your parents."
She nodded and gathered the skirt of her dress as we approached them.
They embraced her briefly.
Something about the interaction felt… odd.
But I paid it little mind.
Once the final guests had departed and my grandmother retired for the evening, I led my wife into the main house.
We climbed the grand spiral staircase at the centre of the hall.
Halfway up, I heard her small voice behind me.
"Are we going to your bedroom?"
"Mm."
By the time we reached the door, she was lightly panting from the climb.
I reached for the handle.
"Wait!"
I paused and turned toward her.
"I am not ready… yet."
I blinked once before understanding dawned. A slow smirk curved my mouth as I leaned casually against the door.
"You do realize we must consummate the marriage."
"I know… I know," she stammered. "I just… don't want to do it yet."
I pretended to consider her words.
Truthfully, consummating the marriage had never been my priority tonight.
But teasing her? That was considerably more entertaining.
"What do we do then?" I asked mildly. "If my wife refuses to satisfy her husband, I suppose I will visit my mistress instead."
Her expression changed instantly.
The fear vanished, in its place appeared something far more interesting. Defiance.
"You shall not see a mistress when you have a wife."
My brows rose. "Is that so?"
"Yes," she said firmly.
"According to whom?"
She lifted her chin slightly. "Me." A pause. "Your wife."