The Alpha's Bride: Marry Your Enemy

DAPHNE

"The Wedding. They call it a peace offering. I call it a beautifully dressed execution."

The war between the witches and the werewolves started several centuries ago. It was long, brutal and bloody. Now, the witches and werewolves have decided to end the war and form an alliance. This so called alliance is called a peace marriage.

And unfortunately, I'm the bride. More like a bargaining chip dressed in white. Lucky me! I'm getting married to an Alpha.

Well, It’s not like this is my first time. Getting married, yes. But being used as collateral in the name of peace? No.

I was handed over to the humans for the sake of peace when I was five. Trust me, it wasn’t exactly a happy childhood. Now, twenty years later, it’s the werewolves' turn.

And here I am again, all dressed up and offered like a gift no one really wants.

"Oh my god! You look so beautiful." My makeup artist gushes out, practically bouncing. I quickly glance at the mirror, barely recognizing the girl staring back at me.

"I'm sure your groom will be absolutely smitten when he sees you." She adds, over enthusiastic about the wedding.

I offer her one of my fake smiles, then the door opens, and my brother comes to retrieve me.

"You look so stunning, Daphne." Damien says flatly.

"I know." I say, rising from my seat.

He snorts, amused, and jerks his head toward the hallway. I follow him without a word.

"I managed to get a glimpse of your husband-to-be." Damien whispers, leaning in.

I raise an eyebrow, mildly interested.

A week ago, I tried to set up a meeting with the Alpha. It was my father’s idea, not mine. He thought it would be good for us to meet before the ceremony. You know, get to know each other. But the Alpha never showed up. Not even once.

His aide gave me the most ridiculous excuse, stating that "He’s an Alpha. He’s too busy to meet."

Right. He's too busy to meet his wife.

So here we are, on our wedding day, and I’m about to meet my husband for the very first time.

"What does he look like?" I ask.

"Annoyingly good-looking."

I blink. That was not the answer I was expecting.

"He is dangerous." Damien adds after a pause. "He might try to kill you." He points out, eyes fixed straight ahead.

"I know." I say, like it's the most normal thing to say.

He looks at me, really looks at me and I see the worry in his eyes. "You know it's not too late to back out."

"And put everyone at risk?" I say.

The whole point of this ceremony is peace. That’s what they keep telling me. That is why my father, the king and the Alpha, in some grand show of trust, agreed to staff the event with human dignitaries. People who know what we are.

"Cut me the crap, I know you don't care about the people."

He is right. I really do not care. It’s hard to care about people who were never really mine. I didn’t grow up among witches. I never felt like one of them.

"You still haven’t told me why you agreed to this." He speaks quietly.

"Dad ordered me to." I lie.

"It's my duty. If I don't do it, who will?" Another lie.

"Since when did you become such an obedient daughter?"

I shrug, not bothering to answer.

Damien watches me for a while then lets out a sigh. He knows I'm hiding something from him. My brother and I may not be closest siblings but I know he cares for me, in his most quiet way.

I tap his shoulder. " Don't worry about me, brother. I've got this."

He smiles and slips something into my hand.

It's a knife.

I blink down at it.

"You might need this." He whispers.

"What are you two doing over there?" My father's sharp voice cuts through the hallway, making both of us flinch.

"Nothing." Damien quickly respond. "I was just... giving my beloved sister some last-minute advice."

Father nods, clearly not interested in pressing further. He slips my hand into the crook of his arm with ease, as if it hasn’t been ten years since we last touched. "Are you ready?"

I nod, saving my strength for what's to come.

As we start walking down the aisle, my father leans in and begins one of his usual lectures. Something about how important this ceremony is for the witches, how I shouldn’t mess it up, how everything depends on me blah, blah, blah.

I'm barely listening as my eyes sweep across the venue. On the left side sit the witches. Most of their faces are vaguely familiar, probably Father's trusted allies and a few of Damien’s friends. On the right are the werewolves, all sharp eyes and tense shoulders, glaring at my father and me like they’re ready to pounce at the smallest sign of trouble.

And at the far end of the hall is where the human dignitaries are seated, quietly and neutrally observing.

"Make sure he doesn't find out." My father mutters.

My stomach knots because I know exactly what he means.

"And smile," he adds with his lips barely moving. "It’s supposed to be the happiest day of your life."

Is it, though?

I try to soften my face as I look ahead where I spot my groom dressed in black suit, his back turned to me as he faces the altar. I won’t deny it, he looks attractive from behind. Broad shoulders. Tall. Infuriatingly confident posture.

He is speaking to a red-haired werewolf who is also undeniably handsome. But as soon as the red-haired guy notices me, he says something to the Alpha.

Slowly, my husband-to-be turns.

And the moment his eyes find me... I freeze. Not because he looks like the demigods the humans talk about, and not even because his piercing gaze seems to cut straight through me. No, it’s not that.

It’s because this man, the Alpha, is going to die. By my hands.