Chapter 194 - The Wedding

Chapter 194 - The Wedding
ADELINE
A gasp rippled through the guests. The priest stumbled backward, clutching his scrolls.
“Ivan!” Eloise’s voice cracked with horror. “Put that sword down at once!”
“Calm down, Ivan…” My voice was soft, trembling with fear. I took a hesitant step toward him, my eyes pleading. “I believe you, Ivan but please, we shouldn’t act reckless. Not here, not now.”
Ivan didn’t lower his sword. “I can’t let him touch you, Addy. Not him. Not after what I saw.”
Caelum stood there, perfectly still, his smirk faint but venomous. His eyes glinted with amusement, not fear. “You should listen to your sister,” he said smoothly. “Recklessness runs in the family, it seems.”
Ivan’s grip tightened, his breathing heavy.
Then Caelum’s expression shifted, subtle, but sharp. A raised brow. A tilt of his chin.
It was a signal.
Before anyone could register it, a blur of movement cut through the air. A flash of metal.
A sharp sound like the tearing of cloth broke the silence.
Ivan gasped. His sword dropped from his hand, clattering against the marble floor.
Everyone froze.
Standing just behind him, the old nobleman, Lord Marrick stood with a dagger buried deep in Ivan’s side. His face was calm, almost serene, as if he’d done nothing more than straighten his coat.
 “Ivan!” I screamed, as Ivan stumbled to his knees.
Caelum’s smirk grew wider, his eyes dark and satisfied. “It seems,” he said softly, “the spirit beasts aren’t the only danger tonight.”
My heart pounded as I tried to rush to my brother, but before I could take a single step, Caelum’s hand clamped around my left arm, pulling me back with a force that made me gasp.
“Ivan!” I cried, my voice breaking. “Let me go! He’s hurt!”
Eloise was already on the ground beside her son, her gown stained dark where his blood spread across the stones. Her hands trembled as she pressed them to his wound. “Stay with me,” she whispered desperately. “Please, stay with me, Ivan…”
I twisted in Caelum’s grasp, my eyes shining with tears. “Let me go!” I shouted again, her voice filled with anger and fear. “He needs me!”
But Caelum’s grip only tightened, his expression calm, too calm. “You’ll stay where you are,” he said under his breath, his tone smooth and sharp. “You’re not running to him. You’re to obey your husband and don’t move.”
“I’m not your wife!” I cried, pulling against his hold, my voice echoing in the night.
Eloise lifted her head, her face pale but determined. “This marriage is over,” she declared, her voice trembling but firm. “My daughter will not marry a man capable of such cruelty!”
A murmur ran through the crowd. The priest froze mid-gesture, uncertain whether to flee or continue. The night breeze stirred the torches, casting flickering shadows across every startled face.
Then, without warning, Lord Marrick stepped forward. The sharp gleam of his dagger caught the torchlight as he pressed it lightly against my mother’s neck.
“Careful, my lady,” he said quietly, though his words carried far. “You don’t wish to insult the groom before his vows are complete.”
The crowd gasped, but no one dared move.
“Leave her!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “Please… leave my mother alone!”
Caelum didn’t even glance at Marrick; his eyes remained on me, his jaw tightening. “This marriage is not over. It will happen,” he said coldly. “Whether your mother approves or not.”
“Caelum—” Eloise began, but he cut across her with a raised hand.
“It’s Lord Caelum. No more words,” he said, his tone smooth but final. “The vows will be spoken. The rites will be sealed. This union will not be stopped by anyone.”
He turned slightly toward the priest, his expression darkening. “Continue.”
I shook my head, whispering, “No… please, no…” as the priest hesitated, his trembling hands clutching the book. The air was thick, heavy with fear and disbelief.
The priest’s trembling voice carried over the silent courtyard, his words echoing beneath the pale light of the moon. “Do you, Lady Adeline, take this man to be your husband?”
Caelum’s hand tightened around mine, his grip like iron. My fingers ached, but I didn’t answer. My breath came shallow, my  gaze unfocused. I tried to pull away, but his hold only grew firmer.
“Do you?” the priest repeated, his eyes darting between us, uncertain.
I shook my head faintly, as if trying to clear my thoughts. But it wasn’t just the pain in my wrist that made me tremble, a voice whispered. They slithered through my mind, soft and eerie, familiar yet strange. Voices I couldn’t understand, calling my name, echoing from somewhere deep within.
Caelum leaned closer, his voice sharp and low. “Answer him,” he hissed. “Now.”
My heart pounded. The world around me began to blur. The whispering grew louder, urgent, insistent until my vision dimmed at the edges. The priest’s voice sounded distant now, almost swallowed by the night.
“Do you, Lady Adeline—”
I flinched. Then suddenly, the whispers stopped. Everything stilled.
My eyes snapped open.
And they were no longer the soft hazel everyone knew—
they were black, pure and endless, like ink spilling across glass.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. The torches flickered wildly. Caelum froze, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.
“Adeline?” he breathed.
My expression was blank, my voice hollow as I whispered, “You shouldn’t have touched her.”
My hand shot up, gripping his shoulder. The moment my skin met his, a pale shimmer of light ran through his body like frost spreading over glass. Caelum stiffened, his words cut off mid-breath. His eyes widened as stone crept along his neck, sealing his expression in eternal shock.
Then silence. He was still. Motionless. Turned to cold marble before my eyes.
I stumbled back, staring at my own trembling hands.
Memories flashed like lightning, another face, another time. A girl screaming, her body hardening to stone beneath my hand. A memory I didn’t remember until now.
“No…” Eloise whispered. “Not now…”
Before anyone could speak, the ground trembled softly. The torches flickered out one by one. From beyond the courtyard walls came a low, haunting cry, deep and echoing, like the growl of something ancient.
The spirit beast.
Screams erupted as nobles rushed for the gates, gowns and cloaks swaying wildly. The priest dropped his book, whispering prayers as he fled. The night sky darkened as a heavy wind swept through, scattering petals and light.