The silence was thick; even the whisper of falling leaves would have echoed. Emelia had her eyes on the floor, and Emelia dared not look in the face of everyone, most especially Fredrick Camfrey. Silence dragged on for another five minutes before a word was said.
"It is settled." Alpha Camfrey announced, dusting his hands cheerfully, as if clearing a deal. Emelia sighs, relief washing over her. Her tense figure lightened a little, and her heartbeat slowed. Her lungs dragged in as much air as her little mouth opening permitted. Everyone's tensed look was not replaced with satisfied faces, but one…. Mark
Losing his fated mate stung, but the real wound came from knowing his brother was gaining her. Fredrick marrying Emelia wasn't a rejection. It was a slap.
"Fredrick can't marry Emelia," he snapped. His hands were clenched on both sides. "I can't watch my mate marry my brother." The word brother sounded strange rolling off his mouth. It tasted like ash wrapped in layers of resentment. He wasn't the only one who noticed the resentment. But the red-eyed demon seated in the shadows felt it too.
"Emelia just can't marry Fred," Mark growled. Luna Comfrey patted her son on the back like a baby.
"She can always be your concubine, dear, if marrying Fred upsets you this much," Luna Camfrey purred, her smile venomous as a cat's claws. Emelia's fingers tightened around the hem of her dress; anger slugged through her like a raging volcano. This was her life, her fate, and her body, yet it was being passed around like a crying baby. She did not want to be tied down with Mark under any marital status; hence, she turned to the dark corner, her eyes desperately pleading for help as they locked with those of Fredrick.
"She has made her choice; it should be respected," Fredrick's voice sliced through the little crowd. He walked over to her, his presence calm yet commanding. His hands slipped into her; they were ice cold compared to her warm skin.
"Never! It will only be over my dead body to see her marry you," Mark roared angrily.
"Then on your deathbed shall our vows be proclaimed," Fredrick replied, his voice low and calm yet carrying a dangerous vow. He was a man of few words, and he fulfilled them. The grin tugged on the corner of his lips and did not wither.
"Since there is nothing else to do, I have an engagement to return to." Frederick shamelessly tucked Emelia's hand into his, walking off like the perfect couple. She was too shocked to say a word or move on her own. She had to rely on his strength to keep her balance. The ceremony resumed like never before. The happy chats and greetings from the guests kept the room lively and less uncomfortable.
Emelia dared not look over her shoulders; just an hour ago, she was engaged to one man, her fated mate, but here she was in his brother's arms. The whispers and piercing gaze behind her made her conscious of every act and step she took throughout the night.
"Traitor… Slut, wench," their words echoed behind her. Aside from that, the party was a blast, but like all things, it did come to an end.
Waiting outside the Camfrey residence for her ride, Emelia had her heels in hand and her dress in another. Her legs ache from dancing and chatting all night. She was no longer the Luna-to-be; as such, everyone was more than interested in getting tips on capturing a wealthy and smokingly handsome player like Fredrick Camfrey.
He was the event's guest, the one no one noticed. Despite his cold demeanor, he still captured the hearts of many. a perpetual bad-boy effect. She roughed her hair, deeply engrossed in her thoughts, not noticing the black Maybach pulling up before her.
"Get in," a cold yet familiar voice orders. Emelia turned to the passenger seat; as expected, it was him.
"My ride is coming," she quickly dismisses his offer. " I wasn't asking," he replied sternly. She hated that voice, calm, commanding, and difficult to argue. She sighed, defeat weighing on her. Her hands carefully reached for the passenger door
"It's locked," the driver stated, motioning her to the back.
"Can I not sit in the front?" she muttered. She wanted to be as far from him as possible.
"Do I take it that my bride is avoiding me?" Fredricks' tone resounded yet again. Emelia sighed in defeat, climbing up into the passenger seat with him. She sat close to the door, creating as much distance between them as possible.
"You look frightened for a woman who dared proclaim me to be her groom." Frederick taunted, his eyes never leaving her. Emelia kept quiet. She wanted nothing but to be home as soon as she could. She wanted out and some quietness after such a dramatic day.
A stack of paper fell to her lap before the last words escaped his lips.
"Sign this."
"What are these for?" She asked, startled.
"Marriage contract?" he replied effortlessly.
Her eyes glanced through the clauses. In public and in the eyes of the family, we are husband and wife.
Privately, we owe each other nothing. You do not interfere in my life; I will not interfere in yours.
Terms can only be modified by me.
She quickly turned to him, her fingers on the last clause, her eyes raised with a questionable look. "What is the meaning of this?"
"What? You don't want to be the mother of my pup?" he asked disdainfully. Emelia did not like how the words rolled off his tongue. For some reason, it sounded rather hot and charming.
"Why will I want your pup when we will be strangers at home?" Emelia snapped back, but Fredrick did not frown back upon her choice of tune. .
The Maybach turned into the long driveway of the William Mansion. Watching from outside the window, Emelia had mixed feelings. She had moved in with Mark after her parents' deaths, but now she was returning home with a new name, reformed resolves, and a new groom. Yet all the pain and memories congested within her.
"We've arrived," the driver announced, staring at the young lady who seemed hesitant to step down. Emelia sighed, opening the door.
"If you want a puppet, pick someone who doesn't know how to cut strings." She gathers herself, without signing the contract and tossing it in his face.
"I don't need a contract to remind me I can do better." She turned and walked away, her chin high. Behind her, the Maybach rolled slowly out of sight. His last words echoed in her mind like a warning.
"If you think picking me makes you powerful… Wait till I make you mine."