Wedding night

Prologue 

(Reader's Discretion required, "R*pe")

The wind chimes in the window sang an ominous tune, The ocean waves slamming though the edge of the mountain where the castle was perched sending cold shivers down her spine.

Outside, the dim glow of moon—fueled by white magic stones—cast ghostly slivers of light into the otherwise suffocating darkness of the room. Shadows stretched and twisted across the walls, deep and endless.

The candles had long since died, snuffed out by the cold wind that slithered in through the open windows.

Silvia's nails dug into the delicate fabric of her dress, trembling fingers clutching at the silk as if it were the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. Sweat clung to her skin, dampening the pristine white of her wedding gown, turning the once-luxurious fabric into a suffocating shroud.

Her once-radiant complexion had turned ghostly, the fair skin that had been admired now carrying the pallor of death. The doe-like eyes that had once captivated were sunken, rimmed with dark circles, their luster swallowed by fear. Her full, luscious lips—praised for their beauty—were now drained of color, trembling as she fought for breath.

Even her hair, those cascading locks adorned with fresh flowers, felt lifeless, the petals wilting as though mourning alongside her.

Her bones felt brittle, as if the slightest movement might cause them to shatter.

What was she supposed to do?

She was trapped. Anytime now her husband was to walk in through those door and claim her! She couldn't let that happen! She was only Jordan's, He was waiting for her at the port! she had to go to him right now! 

"Haah!"

At last, Silvia could move. Her wide, unblinking eyes finally flickered shut, the dryness stinging as she forced herself to breathe. "I should leave." The words barely made it past her trembling lips, a whisper swallowed by the suffocating silence of the room.

Slowly, carefully, she slipped out of the bed, each step deliberate, cautious—as if the very floorboards would betray her. Tiptoeing toward the window, her breath hitched when she peered down. Nothing but the yawning abyss of the sea. The dark waves churned hungrily beneath her, waiting. Escape was impossible that way.

A shudder wracked her body as she clutched her chest, her fingers pressing tightly against the delicate fabric of her gown. Tears welled in her eyes. "The door… I have to run out the door." She tried to assure herself, but the moment the words left her lips—

BANG!

The heavy doors of the room swung open with force, slamming against the walls. Silvia's breath caught in her throat. Her body instinctively recoiled, pressing against the cold wooden frame of the window, her fingers gripping it so hard they ached.

"He's here."

She shook her head frantically, her vision blurring with fear.

A towering figure stood at the entrance, broad shoulders filling the doorway, a presence so imposing it made the air itself grow heavy. His unreadable gaze locked onto her, unrelenting, predatory.

"Don't come closer!" she gasped, voice breaking as she pressed herself further into the corner. "I—I will—"

Her chest rose and fell in uneven, frantic breaths, but the man remained unmoved. His stance was steady, his piercing gaze never wavering.

The shadows clung to him, swallowing his form, 

Silvia's hands trembled as she gripped the candle stand, her fingers slick with sweat. Her breath came in sharp, shallow gasps, her chest heaving as she pressed herself against the wooden frame of the window. The bitter night air howled through the open glass, stinging her damp skin, but she barely noticed. Her mind was consumed by the sheer terror flooding her veins.

Tears streaked down her cheeks, hot and endless. Her heart slammed against her ribs, her entire body quivering like a trapped animal. The silk of her wedding dress clung to her, suffocating, useless. The heavy doors had burst open moments ago, and now he stood there—broad-shouldered, tall.

"Don't come closer!" Her voice cracked, wild with fear. She raised the stand in trembling hands, her knuckles white from the grip. "I—I am not your wife! I was sold! i never wanted to be your wife! Let me leave-will—"

But her words were useless.

The man stepped forward.

Fast.

Too fast.

Silvia swung, but before the blow could land, a crushing force seized her wrist. A sharp yank sent pain shooting up her arm, the stand clattering to the ground. The violence of it sent her staggering, her back slamming against the window. The frame dug into her spine, her legs nearly giving out beneath her.

"Too bad, sister-in-law." His voice was cold, mocking. "I'm not your husband either."

The light shifted, revealing his face at last.

Silvia's breath caught. Horror twisted her insides.

Him.

Not the duke.

His younger brother.

The man who had stood at the altar in place of the groom. The man who had uttered those vows with a smirk curling his lips.

"What are you doing here? You—you shouldn't be here!" She screamed, panic clawing up her throat as she struggled against his grip. But Lysander shoved her back, the force knocking her against the cold glass.

Her feet barely touched the ground.

There was nothing behind her but the sheer drop of the cliffs below.

The ocean raged beneath her, waves crashing violently against jagged rocks. The wind was merciless, whipping through her loose strands of hair, biting at her tear-streaked face.

She was trapped.

"Let go!" Her voice broke as she tried to push him away, but every movement made her dangerously aware of the void behind her. If he let go, she would fall. Her hands clutched at the window frame, her nails digging into the wood, splintering against it.

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over her skin.

"What do you think, sister-in-law?" His voice was laced with amusement, but the hunger in his eyes was anything but playful. "I'm here to make you mine."

His fingers tangled in the ribbon of her dress, pulling lazily.

Silvia choked on a sob, the realization hitting her like a blade to the chest.

"No—NO!"

She thrashed against him, her screams cutting through the night. But he was too strong. His body crushed against hers, trapping her against the window. The pressure made her bones ache, made her skin burn.

His lips came down on hers, harsh and invasive, stealing the very breath from her lungs. His tongue forced its way past her lips, ruthless, violent.

Silvia gagged.

Her nails tore at his face, dragging deep scratches down his cheek.

But he didn't budge.

Didn't even flinch.

A strangled cry ripped from her throat as he wrenched her away from the window and hurled her onto the bed. The impact stole the breath from her lungs. Her vision blurred, the ceiling spinning above her as she tried to push herself up. But before she could move, his weight was on her again, pinning her down.

The silk of her dress ripped beneath his hands.

Fabric tore.

Her body convulsed in terror, her hands scrambling to hold the pieces together, to stop what was happening.

"HELP!" Her voice cracked, raw and desperate. "SOMEBODY, PLEASE!"

But no one came.

The only sound was his ragged breathing, the sick amusement in his chuckle.

"You can scream all you want," he murmured, his fingers pressing over her mouth, muffling her cries. "No one's coming."

Silvia sobbed beneath his hand, her body shaking violently.

He leaned closer, lips brushing her ear.

"Do you know why?"

His next words sent her spiraling into a cold, hollow abyss.

"Because they're all in mourning."

A pause.

"Your husband just died. I couldn't leave you unsatisfied on your Wedding Night."

His laughter was the last thing she heard before the world caved in around her. 'She had become a widow..' The worst of a title a woman could get.