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Chapter 8 - My New Husband

The grand cathedral loomed like a monolith of white marble and obsidian, its spires piercing the overcast sky, bells tolling a deep, resonant hymn that vibrated through the cobblestones.

 

Inside, the nave stretched endlessly—vaulted ceilings lost in shadows, stained-glass windows depicting angels exploded in cascades of crimson, gold, and sapphire light across polished pews packed with nobles.

 

Dukes in fur-trimmed robes whispered amongst each other; duchesses in jewel-crusted gowns eyed me like fresh prey; foreign envoys gave me an interested look.

 

Incense swirled thick—solar myrrh for blessings, lunar jasmine for bonds—mingling with a thousand scents—Alpha ruts barely leashed, Omega blooms suppressed, Betas neutral as stone.

 

Petals carpeted the aisle, crunching underfoot.

 

Dad stood at my chamber door, resplendent in her imperial regalia—raven hair pinned with gold laurels, tunic swapped for a crimson mantle embroidered with empire sigils, sword at hip gleaming.

 

Her eyes softened seeing me—gown's train spilling like a pearl river, veil starry and sheer. "Ready, flower?" No—Alexander. But she offered her arm, callused hand steady.

 

"No—Alexander. Today?" I teased.

 

"No, today's your day, daughter. You can do whatever you want, except what you are thinking."

 

"You know, some fathers cry when their daughters are marrying."

 

"You will stay here with us after your marriage, flower."

 

"Wow, you have really thought a lot of things, Dad."

 

 

Heart pounding, I took it. Assassin instincts screamed bolt, but Omega calm held—body light, steps graceful in the gown's embrace. Argh, what can happen? I am already considered a woman in this world because of my gender.

 

Doors groaned open on divine winds. Organ swelled, a thunderous melody. Nobles rose in a rustle of silk, gasps rippling/

 

"The Omega princess!"

 

"So ethereal!"

 

"The alliance is sealed!"

 

Flashbulbs—no, Aether orbs flared, capturing the moment. I guess, this was the only thing that was missing. My mom will cry over the photos in the upcoming years—I am sure of it."

 

Dad walked me slow down the endless aisle, her stride measured and unyielding, guiding me through seas of crushed petals that released bursts of sweet fragrance with every step.

 

The grand cathedral's stained-glass light danced across my gown's pearls, turning me into a walking constellation amid the rustle of noble finery.

 

Whispers buzzed from the pews like hidden knives.

 

"Elaine's prize."

 

"Throne secured at last."

 

"Elaine is really lucky."

 

But Dad's pheromones spiked suddenly—thick Alpha musk rolling out like a thunderclap, iron and dominance flooding the nave. Nobles snapped their mouths shut, eyes widening, backs straightening in instinctive submission. Duchesses paled, dukes coughed, the air crackling with her warning.

 

My own scent bloomed traitorously despite the choker's suppressants—unfurling soft and intoxicating, teasing the crowd. Hungry glances flicked my way—Alphas shifting in seats, nostrils flaring, ruts stirring dangerously close to the surface, their gazes lingering too long on my veiled form.

Dad's pheromones spiked again, sharper this time—a protective storm that lashed out, forcing every head to turn away. Growls rumbled low from her throat, barely audible, but the message landed clearly.

 

"You can't do this—your subjects are here," I whispered.

 

"No Father will tolerate this, flower—not when these puppies are throwing lecherous looks at her daughter."

 

"They should be glad that you didn't kill them," I smiled.

 

"... That they should."

 

There stood my fiancé at the altar, striking in a crisp white suit tailored sharp as a blade—high-collared jacket nipped at her waist, trousers straight and pristine, silver epaulets glinting like stars on her shoulders.

 

Elaine Klageter's ice-blue eyes stared blank, unreadable, framed by high cheekbones and a strong jaw. My eyes widened despite myself.

 

She wasn't 'beautiful'—no, handsome... very handsome in that commanding Alpha way, tall and poised with quiet power. Raven hair pulled into a tight bun, not a strand loose, a single obsidian brooch pinning it like an emblem.

 

Dad released my arm with a final squeeze, stepping back as priests flanked us under the eternal altar flames—solar fire for Astra's blessing, lunar glow for Nyx's bond.

 

Organ music swelled soft then hushed. Nobles leaned forward, incense curling like ghosts. Elaine extended a gloved hand; I took it, lace sleeve brushing her cuff, her cool Alpha scent—crisp pine and steel—mingling with my scent.

 

High Priest intoned as he looked at me. "By Veil and Gods, do you, Crown Princess Alexander Farrel, Omega of the line, take Lady Elaine Klageter as your husband, to bind in alliance and heart?"

 

"I do," I said clear, voice steady—assassin calm overriding Omega flutter.

 

"And you, Sir Elaine Klageter, Alpha of Klageter Dukedom, take Crown Princess Alexander as wife, to cherish, protect, rule beside?"

 

"I do," she replied smooth, her ice-blue eyes remaining blank—cold pools reflecting the altar flames without a flicker of warmth or nerves, handsome face a perfect mask of composure.

 

"Exchange the rings." The High Priest offered twin bands on a velvet cushion—platinum woven with pulsing Aether crystals that hummed faintly, binding magic in their depths. Elaine took mine first, her gloved fingers steady as she slid the cool metal onto my ring finger.

 

It warmed instantly against my skin, sealing with a soft spark of light that tingled up my arm like a vow etched in starlight's fire. I returned the gesture, slipping hers on with deliberate calm—despite the crowd's rising murmurs and the weight of a thousand eyes—my lace cuff brushing her wrist.

 

"By flame and shadow, you are one." Altar flames roared skyward in twin pillars—solar gold and lunar silver—bathing us in divine glow as nobles erupted in thunderous applause, petals swirling in the updraft.

 

Elaine reached for my veil then; gloved hands deliberate and unhurried. She lifted it slow, folding the starry gossamer back to fully reveal my face—silver hair, olive eyes wide beneath the orchid crown.

 

Her blank ice-blue eyes held mine without thaw, handsome features carved from marble. No smile cracked her composure, just that piercing, unreadable stare—like assessing a chess piece mid-game.

 

Was she assessing me? Tch! How heartless!

 

She leaned in measured, one hand cupping my jaw with surprising gentleness, thumb grazing my cheekbone through the diamond choker's edge. Our lips met soft but firm—hers cool at first, tasting faintly of crisp mint and underlying steel, a controlled press that deepened just enough to claim without rush.

 

My scent bloomed sharper in response, instinctive, as her pine Alpha musk wove through it. The kiss lingered for some time but her blank eyes never warmed, holding mine even as cheers peaked. She pulled back smooth, gloved hand trailing my arm before dropping.

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