Chapter 1

The air inside the grand cathedral was thick with tension, the scent of incense clashing with the stifling silence. The towering stained-glass windows cast fractured colors upon the marble floor, but even the divine light could not soften the darkness that lingered in the room.

Dozens of guests sat rigid on their seats, their faces pale and carefully blank. No one spoke. No one dared to breathe too loudly.

At the end of the aisle, she stood alone in a gown of ivory lace, its intricate patterns woven with pearls and the whispers of a life that she would never live.

The veil draped over her face like a funeral shroud, its delicate fabric unable to mask the cold dread curling in her stomach. She had been told this was her fate. That there was no escape. That no refusal would be accepted. And now, standing beneath the towering arches of the cathedral, she felt the weight of her own entrapment settle on her bones.

The groom stood at the altar, a tall and imposing figure clad in black, the only part of him untouched by the dim light. His broad shoulders cast a long shadow across the polished floor, stretching toward her like an omen.

He did not move, did not gesture, did not acknowledge her presence beyond the steady weight of his gaze. She had never heard him speak, had never been granted even the whisper of his voice. Yet, there was something more unsettling about his silence now, in this sacred moment where words were expected and yet none came.

The officiant’s voice wavered as he began the ritual, his hands gripping the ceremonial book with knuckles turned white.

“Do you take Duke Magnus Asher Dreadborne to be your husband, to honor and obey, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

A pause. Too long, too thick with the unspoken tension prevailed.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry, her lips parting to give the only answer permitted.

“I do.”

The officiant turned to the groom, his hands trembling slightly. The air grew heavier, the silence stretching into something unbearable.

“And do you—”

The words died on his lips. He knew better. They all did.

The groom did not respond. He did not have to.

The silence was his answer.

A cold shudder rippled through her, though she did not dare move. The officiant hesitated for a breath too long before clearing his throat and proceeding as though nothing was amiss.

The rings were placed upon her trembling fingers, the cool band of gold binding her to a man she did not know.

“By the power vested in me,” the officiant announced, his voice thin, uncertain, “I now pronounce you both the husband and wife.”

A flicker of motion. The groom lifted his hand, but he did not take hers. Instead, he reached up and slowly lifted her veil. She braced herself for what was to come, for the cold press of his lips, for the first touch of the man who now owned her life.

But it never came.

He simply stared.

Eyes the color of a storm-torn sea bore into hers, sharp and unreadable.

He was beautiful, but in the way a predator was beautiful—danger wrapped in allure. His gaze traced the curve of her cheek, the bow of her lips, and for a moment, she swore she saw something flicker in his expression. Curiosity? Possession? Something far more dangerous than desire.

His thumb ghosted over the curve of her jaw, a featherlight touch that felt more like a test than affection.

Then, just as suddenly, he let the veil fall back into place. Without a word, without a sound, he turned and began walking down the aisle. All alone.

She had been married. Bound. Claimed.

And yet, she had never felt more alone in her life.

* * *
The carriage rocked gently as it rolled through the mist-covered path, the rhythmic clatter of hooves the only sound breaking the oppressive silence.

She sat stiffly in the plush velvet seat, her hands folded tightly on her lap, fingers digging into the fabric of her gown.

The wedding band on her finger felt foreign, as if it did not belong to her, as if it chained her to something she did not yet understand.

Outside, the world was swallowed by fog, trees looming like shadowy figures in the distance. The deeper they traveled, the more isolated the land became, the village she had known disappearing behind her as the road twisted toward an unknown fate.

The driver said nothing. Not once did he glance back at her. Even the horses moved with an eerie stillness, as if they too knew that this journey was one of no return.

She caught a glimpse of it before they reached the gates—a towering silhouette against the gray sky, jagged spires rising like claws tearing through the heavens.

The manor was ancient, a monolith of dark stone and secrets. Its many windows flickered with faint candlelight, barely piercing the gloom that wrapped around it like a living thing.

The iron gates groaned open, their rusted chains protesting as they granted her passage.

The carriage slowed, crunching over the gravel path until it came to a stop before the grand entrance. For a moment, she did not move. The door was opened for her, a silent demand rather than an invitation. Stepping out, the cold air bit at her exposed skin, mist curling around her ankles as she stared up at the monstrous house before her.

The main doors stood tall and unyielding, carved with intricate patterns that told stories she did not yet know.

A single figure waited for her on the stone steps—her husband. He did not speak, did not beckon. He simply watched, his eyes unreadable in the dim light.

She took a step forward, her pulse a quiet drum in her ears. The carriage pulled away behind her, its wheels grinding against the stones, leaving only the whisper of retreating hooves before silence fell once more.

There was no going back now.

With a deep breath, she climbed the steps, feeling the weight of unseen eyes upon her. The door swung open at her approach, and she stepped inside.

The moment the doors closed behind her, the outside world ceased to exist. The air within was thick with the scent of aged wood, candle smoke, and something faintly floral, like old perfume clinging to forgotten fabric.

Flickering candlelight cast long shadows along the vast foyer, illuminating marble floors and towering paintings that seemed to watch her every move.

The house was beautiful. But it was not welcoming.

It was a cage, and she had just stepped inside.