Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince

5. The Royal Chessboard

[ELARA]

Hours likely passed since I narrowly escaped being murdered by a water demon, but my fury refuses to settle. Magnus' harsh words keep coming back to me.

My maids insisted on changing me out of my soaked wedding gown. Initially rejecting their help, I soon realized how the wet fabric clung uncomfortably to my skin. Now, I find myself in a plain blue robe adorned with a silver border. The tent lacks the grandeur of the wedding ceremony—simple, unadorned, with dim lanterns casting a soft glow, creating an uncomplicated atmosphere. Seated on a basic bed, my thoughts are consumed by Magnus. He's not just a distant husband; he's orchestrating an elaborate game.

Caelondor has never been favored among the independent wolf packs. That changed when news of King Eldric seeking an alliance reached us. Witnessing the Alpha's desperation was a rarity, sparking confusion within our pack. How would an alliance with a distant kingdom benefit us? Our pack has never been weak. Despite the skepticism, Beta families lined up with their young daughters, hoping for a royal marriage. However, enthusiasm waned when they learned the bride would spend her life not with the king but with a deformed prince.

The gammas were next, eyeing an increase in status despite the prospect of dealing with a cruel man. Then, our Alpha vanished for a couple of days, returning with a demand: Alina must marry the prince.

The rest is history—a history punctuated by mockery.

Magnus barges into the tent without warning, his piercing golden eyes locking onto me. The maids, bowing promptly, exit without a word. Are they afraid of him? He's gained notoriety as a torturer. How much truth lies in that reputation?

Shifting on the bed, I remain silent. He regards me with an expression suggesting annoyance before demanding, "Come outside and eat."

Without waiting for a response, he vanishes behind the tent flaps as abruptly as he arrived. The graceful exit is a stark contrast to the limp he exhibited earlier.

Reflecting on the peculiar wedding stunt where Magnus portrayed himself as grotesque and malformed, a realization dawns on me. He's not merely indifferent; he's cunning. That bizarre appearance was a calculated move, intended to divert and deceive. Our marriage, something I should have grasped earlier, is and will always be more about political strategy than genuine emotions.

He knowingly allowed the planted image to fester in our minds and played along. To what end?

Was it just for a few moments of shock? An insult to the pack that our King wishes to form an alliance with? I sense there's more to it than meets the eye. And I'm determined to uncover just what that might be.

Upon reflection, Magnus emerges as a cold and calculated figure. The imposed isolation and the peculiar spectacle during the ceremony—all pieces of a concealed puzzle. I'm just a tool in his political maneuvering. The sense of betrayal is potent, yet I acknowledge the need to sharpen my wit in navigating this intricate situation.

What is his relationship like with the King? It seemed like King Eldric was oblivious to the stunt. Magnus was supposed to be...ugly. After months of believing that, now I'm confronted with the truth. He's normal. Just alright. Or is his usual appearance a facade?

A groan escapes my lips.

The remainder of the wedding day remains a blur. I was thrust into a feast, forced to smile at ministers who approached with gifts. Then came the pack members bidding their farewells. Their faces wore an identical expression: Surprise? Betrayal? Whatever it was, it was far from pity.

I wonder if others questioned the authenticity of the event or saw through the act. Alone in the tent, I grapple with this revelation. Magnus desires my obedience, not my love. I'm a mere pawn in his political game.

The maids return, tweaking parts of the tent, arranging things, and just moving around, making me feel restless.

The tent flaps open again, and I assume it's Magnus, ready to scold me for my disobedience. To my surprise, it's Alec standing there. Relief washes over me, and I quickly ask my maids to leave. After hesitant glances, they comply, leaving Alec and me in momentary solitude.

Alec's eyes meet mine, and I stand on my feet, holding my breath. He steps closer, bringing an unexpected comfort. The mate bond hums softly.

The mate bond.

Why does it still exist? He rejected me, and I accepted it. Shouldn't that mean the bond was severed? I distinctly remember feeling it—the wrenching, cold hand that gripped my chest and shattered it into a million pieces.

"El," he says, his voice low. His auburn hair is a mess, and he looks like he hasn't slept in days. I remain silent, allowing him to speak. He clears his throat, and I briefly close my eyes to inhale. "I just wanted to make sure you're alright."

I find my voice, despite my doubts. "Alec… I'm fine. I was just too shocked."

He shakes his head. "Shocked? You almost died. If I wasn't here, I don't know if you'd be saved."

A chuckle escapes my mouth. "Yeah. Married and widowed in the blink of an eye. Magnus would love that."

He clutches my arm, redirecting his anger at the wrong target. "Don't joke, El. I don't like him. I never liked him. But now... I don't want him to hurt you."

His grip on my arm tightens, and he releases it abruptly, as if the contact burns him. "I'm sorry."

"Alec," I start, taking a step back. "What can we do? Your feelings about him don't matter. And I know he doesn't want to harm me. He has a reputation to uphold. He wants me to be the perfect wife."

Alec swallows hard, as if my words burden him with a difficult confession. What was he expecting to hear? A moment passes before he speaks, "Will you love him?"

"Not in this lifetime, no," I reply instantly, then shake my head. "He doesn't want love from me."

"So, you've accepted that fate?"

His question confuses me. Didn't he reject me back when we were in Mistral Hollow? Didn't that mean he accepted my fate and considered how it affects him?

I lick my lips, suddenly aware of the dryness in my mouth. "I can't fight this. You didn't fight it. You gave up. For our pack. Didn't you? What does this mean?"

Alec moves a step closer, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. The overwhelming urge to reach for his face and kiss him, a familiar gesture between us, consumes me.

He shuts his eyes, as though the words are elusive when he can see me. His voice strains, "I tried for a day. I tried for weeks. Being away from you might have helped. But now, forced to be close to you, I can't, El! I-I won't."

"Alec," I gasp, comprehending his struggle. Why is it only now dawning on me that he's as alone here as I am? He left his family behind too. But I attempt to be rational. "We'll both end up with our heads on spikes in Caelondor."

Alec persists, "If he doesn't want your love, let me have it."

“You’ve lost your mind,” I tell him, but my voice comes out too soft and I’m leaning towards him. My hand has reached to touch his cheek. “I need to understand. What happened by the river? Why is the mate bond still–”

“Shhh,” he cuts me off. His gaze softens, taking a moment before responding. “I don’t know, El. Why should that matter either? I knew I couldn't let anything happen to you.”

I nod, absorbing his words. “But Magnus... he didn't seem happy about it. Because people saw us. And they’re probably talking about us right now. And having you in my tent without the maids isn’t helping.”

Alec's expression tightens, revealing the tension between him and Magnus. “I serve a duty, El. But I won't let anything harm you. You're important. And I can’t stop. I. Can’t. Stop. Loving. You,” he emphasizes each word before his lips meet mine.

I don’t push him away for a moment, in fact I let him kiss me and I revel in the familiar, nice feeling of his hands on me, his soft lips pressed against mine.

“No!” I protest all of a sudden, pushing him away. “We can’t. You can’t kiss me!”

“But you want me to,” he interjects.

I run a hand through my hair, struggling to grasp the magnitude of the mate bond's persistence. “Alec, we can't ignore this. It's not just about us. Magnus won't tolerate any threat to his control, especially when it comes to his wife.” I whisper, gritting my teeth helplessly, “Alec! Get back to your senses. We’re surrounded by a hundred people. They’ll find out. Magnus will kill us!”

Alec takes a step back, but his eyes don’t show defeat. Just resistance.

Before he can say something, the tent flaps rustle. My heart leaps, and I instinctively step back, distancing myself from Alec. Magnus enters, his presence commanding attention. His eyes narrow at the sight of Alec and me, the atmosphere thick with tension.

"What is the meaning of this, Alec?" Magnus demands, his voice a low growl. His golden eyes narrow, fixed on Alec. "You're getting too comfortable. Remember your place."

Alec's stoic demeanor wavers for an instant, a flicker of defiance in his eyes. "My place is to protect her. To ensure her safety. I won't apologize for doing my duty."

The tension escalates, the air thickening with hostility. Magnus takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving Alec but his lips curve into a sinister smile. “Safety? I think you've overstepped your boundaries, beta. She is my wife, and I'll decide how she is protected. Leave us now, before you make me do something you’ll regret.”

“Go, Alec. Get out of here!” I hear myself yell at him. “You’re a guard. You should know your place.” I try to sound as bitter as possible.

For a moment Alec seems surprised but then he sees right through it. The mate bond doesn’t deceive. He knows I’m doing this to protect him. And he leaves. Without bowing.

“You didn’t have to yell at him,” Magnus tells me as he watches Alec retreat. His voice is suddenly calm. Too calm. “It’s a good thing no sound leaves this tent or my ministers would’ve heard you kissing him.”

My feet turn cold at his words.

“Don’t kill him. Please,” I add.

Magnus raises an eyebrow at me, his lips curved into a winning smile. “And why should I listen to anything you say, sweetheart? Especially something that threatens my reputation?”

I swallow. “I’ll make sure he stays away from me.”

Magnus nods, clasping his hands behind his back easily. “Oh, I’ll take care of that. Now, will you do me the favor of coming outside and joining me for dinner?”

I agree with a nod and feel the taste of salt on my lips. Only a moment later I realize I’m crying.

Magnus warns me. “You don’t want them to see that.”

I stare at his face, holding back curses. Wiping the tears away, I muster a smile, effortlessly slipping my arm through his. A flicker of surprise crosses his eyes. “Let the game begin,” I tell him, before we step out into the arena.