Chapter 58 The Wedding Day

Chapter 58 The Wedding Day
58: The Wedding Day

Some brides wake up to birdsong, sunlight, and inner peace. I woke up to the distinct emotional cocktail of guilt, anxiety, and the memory of making out with the groom’s mortal enemy in my chamber. So yes. Birds could mind their own business.

The palace erupted into celebration before I even opened my eyes. Drums echoed from the courtyard, trumpets blasted from the towers, and servants ran around like the entire kingdom depended on flower placement. Technically it did, because the matrons of tradition would probably riot if a petal faced the wrong direction.

The sun wasn’t even fully up. Weddings at dawn. Why do people do this? Is it romance or a secret vendetta against sleep.

I sat up slowly. My heart felt heavy and hollow at the same time. Lucian’s scent ghosted in the air, or maybe that was my imagination being unhinged again. Either way, it hurts.

Today is the day I would marry Rowan.
Today is the day the kingdom would rejoice.
Today is the day I would probably destroy everyone’s life.

Great. So casual.

A series of knocks signaled the arrival of the bridal team. They swarmed the room with powders, pins, shimmering cosmetics, and fabrics worth more than my life. My brain was too numb to protest, so I let them turn me into Silvermoon’s perfect Luna.

They fastened the ceremonial gown onto my body. Silver silk flowed like water, catching every ray of sunrise. Moonstones glittered along the neckline. The sleeves looked like spun starlight.

Hidden inside the lining near my ribcage were the relic fragments. Three of them. Quiet. Unassuming. Waiting. Warm against my skin like something alive.

I pretended not to feel it.

The matrons stepped back to admire me, teary eyed as if they personally handcrafted me inside a womb.

“Oh, she is radiant.”
“Like the goddess reborn.”
“Like the first Luna walking to destiny.”

I forced a soft smile. Haha yes destiny how fun.

When they finally left, I stood in silence before the mirror. I did not recognize myself. A beautiful woman stared back, regal and calm.

She was lying.

I whispered under my breath, “If this is the last day of my life, at least my eyeliner is gorgeous.”

I straightened my spine. The doors opened. The guards escorted me out.

The hallway was filled with nobles bowing, smiling, whispering blessings. Every gaze was a spotlight. Every blessing was a chain.

The doors to the ceremonial altar opened.

The Silvermoon Palace was glowing under the moonlit altar like something ripped straight out of a storybook. Moonflies floated in the air like glitter, the choir sang hymns that could wring tears out of a rock, and rose petals rained from the balcony. Everyone looked breathtaking. Everyone smiled. Everyone cried.

Except the bride. Me.

I looked breathtaking too, apparently. They dusted my face with silver glitter, curled my hair until my scalp begged for mercy, and poured me into a gown woven from moonlight silk. The gown flowed like water and shimmered like the night sky. Every eye in the kingdom was fixed on me.

And somewhere hidden between the layers of that beautiful gown were the relic fragments. Sharp. Heavy. Burning against my skin like secrets carved into metal.

My fingers itched to grab them. Not because I wanted to use them. Because they reminded me I had a purpose far bigger than this aisle. Far bigger than this kingdom. Far bigger than the perfect groom waiting for me at the altar.

Rowan Hale.

Perfect. Strong. Regal. Exactly what the kingdom deserved.

And yet here I was, walking down the aisle like a polished prisoner.

Each step I took echoed in my head. One. Two. Three. The crowd sighed in awe. Four. Five. Six. My stomach twisted like I swallowed a hurricane.

I did not look left. I did not look right. I kept my face calm. Professional. Composed. I was the future Luna after all. I was their goddess. Their savior. Their symbol.

But inside I was counting the places where Lucian was not.

He should have been here. He should have been standing somewhere. Even hidden. Even far away. Even cursing me from the shadows. Anything. Just to know he still existed.

But no one spoke his name. No one whispered about him. The palace guards were doubled. The Dravenmoor banners were gone. Silvermoon was spotless. 

Sanitized. Sterile. They erased him.

My steps slowed for one fraction of a second. Then a soft whisper reached me from the crowd.

"Smile, my lady."

I did.

Because I knew exactly how to lie.

I reached the altar, and Rowan extended his hand with a smile they could frame on currency someday. The crowd erupted with applause. I took his hand because I had to, not because I wanted to. His palm was warm and steady, but there was no spark, no pull, no memory.

Rowan did not destroy me.

That was the problem.

The priest cleared his throat. "Today, the goddess blesses the bond between Alpha Rowan Hale and Aria Quinn. May their union protect the people of Silvermoon and strengthen the kingdom for eternity."

A pretty little wording meaning: Keira, you are officially property of the kingdom.

I kept smiling.

Rowan leaned closer and whispered for my ears only. "You look beautiful, Keira."

I nodded once. "I know."

He chuckled softly, as if I were playfully teasing him, and the crowd melted because apparently the new Luna was adorable. Internally I was debating whether I could stab someone with a relic shard without destroying the veil.

The relics started warming against my ribs. Not enough to burn me. Just enough to remind me.

Tick tock.
Tick tock.
You do not belong here.

I inhaled sharply.

Rowan squeezed my hand again. His eyes softened. "I know this isn't easy for you. But I will protect you. Whatever ghosts haunt you will not take you from me."

It would have been sweet. Romantic even.
If he weren’t talking about Lucian. 

The priest raised the ceremonial chalice. 

"Let the bride speak her vow."

Time stopped.

My throat tightened. The relics pulsed. My voice formed in my mind but not on my lips.
I vow nothing.

But I looked at Rowan and smiled like the most devoted bride alive. A performance worthy of an award.

"I, Aria Quinn, vow—"

Thunder ripped through the sky.
The crowd flinched.

The relics beneath my gown seared through the silk like they could see the altar. My pulse hammered in my ears. Rowan's grip on my hands faltered. I tried again.

"I vow to—"

The ground trembled. The moon itself dimmed.

Gasps echoed.

The relics glowed bright enough to shine through the lace bodice. Silver light streamed from my torso like liquid. Small at first, then brighter until it was blinding. The guests gasped. The choir started screaming instead of singing. The officiant stumbled backward.

Rowan looked at me, horror dawning across his face.

“Keira… what is happening?”

I didn’t answer because I didn’t know as well. All I did was to shake my head.

Rowan stepped in front of me instinctively, baring his teeth, issuing commands I didn’t hear. The guards rushed the aisle. “Get behind me.”

Thunder rolled again. Not from the sky this time.

From the palace doors.

A crash echoed through the courtyard. The giant doors buckled inward under invisible force. Metal warped. Guards scrambled.

Someone shouted, “Lock the entrance!”
Someone else screamed, “Shields up!”

But before anyone could obey, the doors exploded open.

Black wind rushed in. Shadows twisted, hot with fury. Wolves growled. Figures descended from the broken entry in a storm of claws, steel, and rage.

The Dravenmoor Pack. They did not sneak or threaten. They attacked like vengeance incarnate. Guests ran. Nobles shrieked. Guards scrambled to draw weapons. Chaos erupted instantly.

And at the front of the invaders, walking through shattered marble like a king returning to conquer what was his… 

Blood streaked his cheek. His clothes were torn and scorched. His eyes burned red like the end of the world.

Every step radiated fury and desperation and love carved into something monstrous. He looked straight at me.

I did not panic.

The air tore open like fabric being ripped from reality. The chandeliers trembled. The torches blew out. My heart stopped.

His silhouette appeared inside the swirling darkness.

Lucian Draven.

His hands soaked in blood. No crown. No armor. No mercy.

Feral.
Unhinged.
Beautiful.

The crowd erupted into chaos. Guards drew weapons. Ladies fainted. Alphas shielded their mates. 

Rowan roared, stepping in front of me again. “Get her out of here!”

Before any guard could react, someone landed beside Lucian with a blade dripping crimson.

Elijah.

My butler. Well, former butler. Loyal professional, always courteous, always mild mannered… except now his expression was unreadable and terrifying.

He spoke without emotion. “All hostiles cleared from the corridor. The main squad is handling the south wing. Luna is unguarded.”

Lucian nodded once. “Good.”

They moved as one force.

Rowan placed himself between them and me, face calm but blazing with fury under the surface. He drew his blade as guards circled him. 

But Lucian did not look at the crowd. He looked only at me. Like he crossed an entire war just to get here. Like nothing else mattered.

Rowan roared, calling for his soldiers. 

"Protect the Luna!"

Lucian smiled, slow and devastating. He tilted his head like Rowan was less than a nuisance.

The air thickened with the weight of history tearing apart.

Lucian spoke. His voice echoed like a storm in the palace.

“I came for what is mine.”

Rowan growled low. Not enraged. Not desperate. Controlled. Deadly. “Keira does not belong to you.”

“Keira is yours not Aria?” Lucian took a step forward. His power radiated like heat. “Say it again when you are still standing.”

Rowan did not flinch. “Take one more step and you are finished.”

Both alphas were seconds away from killing each other.

Behind them the courtyard continued falling into chaos. Wolves clashed with armored guards. Nobles tried to escape. Flower arrangements died tragic deaths.

My lungs constricted. My brain screamed. My heart shattered.

"Try."

That one word dropped temperature and loyalty in the room like knives. Half the guards stepped back.

Some knelt.

The Halecrest banners burned with black flame.

Then everything happened at once. Wolf roars shook the palace. Windows shattered. Warriors shifted, fur and teeth flashing. The air filled with silver and black magic colliding like storms. Everyone ran, panic and fought. People bled.

And I stood in the center of the altar, eye of the hurricane, watching everything I had been forced to swallow finally explode.

My body moved before my mind did. I stepped down from the altar. Not toward Rowan. Toward Lucian.

The relics burned through lace and skin. My vision blurred with moonlight. My knees buckled.

Lucian caught me before I hit the marble.
His hand on my waist. His chest against mine. He smelled like cold wind and iron and survival.

"You should not be here" I whispered, trembling.

"I warned them." His voice was gutted, broken, feral. "I told them I would burn their world before I let them take you."

A tear slid down my cheek.

Not fear.
Not regret.
Recognition.

Rowan charged toward us with a snarl worthy of legends. Warriors followed. Lucian didn’t flinch. The shadows around him surged like living armor.

He looked at me like a man who already chose damnation and called it love.

"Keira" he whispered, forehead pressing to mine. "Say the word and I will tear this kingdom apart."

My breath shook. My bones trembled. My heart knew the answer. The relics knew the answer.

But I said nothing.

Because there were 3,000 eyes watching. Because the world was burning. Because I did not know whether I was a bride, a goddess, a prisoner, or a weapon.

Lucian did not wait.

He swept me into his arms and leapt backward into the swirling shadows that ripped the palace apart. Rowan screamed my name so loudly it cracked. 

The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed us whole was Rowan collapsing on the altar as his soldiers fell around him.
And the last thing I felt was Lucian's breath against my ear, promising violence.

"You are mine. And I am done letting anyone forget it."

The world vanished.
And so did I.