I wanted to say something, but the words got stuck in my throat as fear overwhelmed me. As I stared at his back, he extended his hand toward Cora's head, petting it. To my surprise, the wolf seemed calm rather than ready to attack, as was typical with creatures of its kind.
“If you stand there in silence, you will pay for your insolence with your life,” he warned coldly, causing shivers to race down my spine.
“Harem, Harrat, I mean Harriet,” I stumbled out, finally finding my voice. He chuckled softly, tilting his head slightly.
“What happened to Har rat?” he inquired, deliberately separating the word to make it sound amusing.
“Harriet already has a mate, and she's pregnant. She won't be your bride anymore. The Alpha will find a better mate for you,” I retorted, struggling to articulate my words, and he scoffed.
“Says the father trying to tarnish his daughter's honor, all to avoid getting on my bad side,” he shot back, and I stood speechless.
“It seems you falter when the topic of pregnancy comes up on your lip. Such a pitiful state you're in. Seems Harry gets snatched away from you,” he observed, petting the wolf with growing affection. How did he know?
“Alpha Valtor!” Alpha Jack declared as he entered the scene.
“Where is the new mate?” he asked, still focused on the white wolf.
“She will be here soon,” Alpha Jack answered, but he didn’t elaborate.
“Ember,” he called, and I was taken aback that he even knew my name, a nobody like me.
“Y-yes, Your Majesty?” I stammered.
“Let’s get married,” he declared, leaving me in shock, speechless and unsure how to respond.
“But, Your Majesty, I just mentioned a new bride, a better bride will be here soon,” Alpha Jack replied, carefully choosing his words.
“And I just stated that I want her to replace your daughter. Spare me the tales of a better bride,” Valtor responded, his tone unyielding.
“She’s a nobody, just a servant serving my daughter, barely different from a slave,” Alpha Jack objected. While I should have felt hurt, I was resolute; there was no way I would marry the devil himself.
“Your Majesty, he is right. I am not suitable to be a bride,” I protested.
“My decision is final. Unless you wish for me to completely wipe out this weak pack,” Alpha Valtor declared with an unmistakable finality in his tone.
“Wow. What’s happening here?” I never imagined Alpha Valtor would choose this fool as a bride!” Harriet exclaimed, entering the scene.
“You can’t marry her,” she declared, anger wrapped her voice. “Someone as lowly as her.”
“You already have your own mate. Why can I sense jealousy in your tone?” the Faceless King retorted.
“The offer to become my concubine is still open. What do you say?” Harry chimed in from the sidelines.
I turned to him, noticing desperation in his eyes. It was as if he truly loved me, tempting me to say yes while I attempted to silence the voice of my wolf against me getting back together.
“Please, Ember. You know I love you for real,” he urged.
“O…”
“You've got a death wish, Ember,” The Faceless King declared, sending another chill down my spine that forced me into silence.
"Harry, if only you had known how to control yourself, the woman you love would still be with you.” Alpha Valtor chided, his attention now fully on petting the wolf. It was as though he could assess our emotions through our voices, even without seeing us.
“Harriet, you didn’t love me to begin with; why are you jealous now?” Alpha Valtor asked.
"I've heard bad news about you, but your voice sounds totally cool, and I believe there's another side to you.” she replied, her gaze filled with longing.
At this, he stood, turning to face us and I noticed the golden mask he wore more clearly now, concealing his true identity.
“What if you hate me after you see my face? I’ve never shown it to anyone,” he asked, leading the conversation.
“Not only did I think you were ruthless, I pictured you as an old man. Clearly, I was mistaken; you are a young man,” she replied earnestly.
“I could have considered you if you weren’t pregnant. You speak as if you’ve fallen for me just by hearing my voice,” he replied, his tone dry rather than vibrant.
Moments later, I walked down the aisle, barely dressed in a ceremonial gown, the center of attention. I soon realized everyone present was either from Alpha Valtor's clan/pack or my own.
When I stared at Harriet, if looks could kill, I would have been dead by now. To avoid her glare, I averted my gaze. Instead, I looked at Harry, who seemed desperate to catch my attention. He was flashing me complicated hand signals, which he hadn't mastered, and using body language to urge me to call off the wedding. As it stands, calling off the wedding is exactly what I want to do, because I'm not marrying the man of my dreams - the one I'd sneak glances at, the one I'd get yelled at just to see. But the problem is the masked man in front of me. If I reject this new arrangement, I risk losing the love of my life to death, also risk losing the lives of everyone I cared for in this pack. As an extrovert, I had bonds with the servants and guards; losing them was not something I could tolerate. I made a resolute decision in my mind that I couldn’t lose any of them. I'd love to stay sane, especially since Harry will be caught up in the impending massacre.
I stepped closer and turned to face him. His deep blue eyes pierced into mine as the organizer spoke.
“Alpha Valtor, you may proceed,” he declared, his words crisp and purposeful, my mind struggling to interpret their meaning.
“I, Alpha Valtor, the Faceless King of the Windsor Pack, take and choose Ember of the Firepack as my mate, to be my Luna,” he announced.
“Over to you, Ember,” The old cranky man, who was the organizer urged. I fell silent for a moment, staring into Harry’s eyes. The Faceless King observed in silence my decision. My response could either destroy this clan or solidify our treaty.
With resignation, I spoke. “I, Ember of the Firepack, take and choose Alpha Valtor, the Faceless King of the Windsor Pack, to be my mate, my Alpha.” The words struggled to leave my mouth, heavy with the weight of my decision.
“Shout out to the new couple!” the organizer declared, igniting a wave of noise and merriment among the crowd.
“No! I can’t accept this union!” Harriet shrieked, her outburst drawing everyone’s attention as she stepped toward us.
“You don’t know when to acknowledge defeat, do you?” Alpha Valtor responded coldly.
“Take back your vow now, Ember. Faceless King! I will do whatever you ask!” she pleaded desperately.
“Then kill the pup in your womb,” Valtor said, leaving me shocked. Even Harriet seemed taken aback, could he truly be so heartless? This is the man I'm now bonded to, my mate. Damn it, I am in for a long and difficult ride.
“I can’t,” she replied. She may be heartless in her own way, a backstabber, a mate snatcher, but she wouldn't be completely heartless enough to do that to her own child.
“I know you won’t,” he replied. It seemed he was fully aware she wouldn’t do something so unthinkable; why would he even suggest it?
“But once I give birth, I would forsake the gender to be with you,” she promised, her sincerity evident. Like in the Bible, "Can a mother forget her nursing child?" This is a true example that backs the answer yes.
“Ember, take back your words. He was mine to begin with, not for someone as lowly as you,” Harriet declared vehemently.
“You took my man. I can humbly take back my words, but that will be at the expense of our clan’s life,” I replied evenly.
“I don’t care! Take it back, now!” she shouted, jealousy and anger boiling over.
“There is…” I began, but before I could finish, a deafening slap landed on my face in front of the Faceless King. She lunged to hit me again, but Valtor’s voice rang out.
"Hit her again, and you'll be dead on a whip."
Her hand froze mid-air, and she dropped it.
“I think you should be more gracious,” he remarked with an air of authority.
“For what?” she shot back.
“For escaping marrying me,” he replied smoothly.
“I don’t get you,” she replied, confusion written across her face.
“What is the real reason you don’t want to marry me?” he pressed.
“You are the Faceless King. Obviously, you have scars you don’t want anyone to see. I thought you were an old man, ruthless and hardly speaking. When you do, it’s to pass death sentences. You’re reputed to be the worst of the worst, the greatest among the ruthless. With this belief, I would be treated as nothing more than a slave if I married you. However, one rumor that you’re an old man turned out to be wrong. What if your face is devoid of scars? The stories say you barely talk, yet you’ve demonstrated otherwise. So I would be happy to be your mate,” she declared defiantly.
“Rumors aren’t always inaccurate, naive girl. You just managed to escape being treated like trash by your mate,” he remarked seriously, and I felt a chill run through me... would he treat me that way too?
“Ember, prepare yourself for the worst,” he warned in the coldest voice I had ever heard.
Let me just die already.