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Chapter 1 — The Wedding
DAPHNE
The Wedding
“They call it a peace offering. I call it a beautifully dressed execution.”
The war between witches and werewolves has dragged on for centuries, ugly, brutal, and bloody. No one even remembers how it started. It just... never stopped. But now, somehow, both sides have decided they want peace. Or at least, something that looks like it.
A peace marriage.
And I’m the bride.
Not by choice. Not for love. Just... a symbol. A pawn in white lace.
Lucky me. I’m marrying an Alpha.
“Oh my God, you look gorgeous,” the makeup artist gushes, practically vibrating with excitement. I glance at the mirror, and for a second, I barely recognize the girl staring back.
Red lips. Loose curls. A wedding dress that feels less like silk and more like... armor.
“I bet your groom’s gonna be blown away,” she adds with a grin.
I force a smile, the practiced, hollow kind I’ve perfected over the years.
The door creaks open. My brother slips in.
“You look stunning, Daphne,” Damien deadpans.
“I know,” I shoot back, rising from the chair without missing a beat.
He huffs out a laugh and jerks his head toward the hallway. “Come on.”
As we walk, he leans in. “Saw your future husband, by the way.”
I arch a brow, only mildly curious.
A week ago, Father insisted we set up a meeting. Lunch. Something. Said it would be good for us to talk before the wedding. But guess who didn’t show? Not once.
His aide had the nerve to say, “He’s an Alpha. He’s... busy.”
Right. Too busy to meet his future wife.
And now here we are. Wedding day. And I’m about to meet my husband for the first time.
“Well?” I ask. “What’s he like?”
Damien pauses. “Annoyingly good-looking.”
I blink. Not what I was expecting.
“And dangerous,” he adds, face tightening. “Don’t forget that. He might try to kill you.”
“I know,” I answer like he just told me it might rain later.
His eyes flick to me, sharp. Searching. “You know... it’s not too late to back out.”
I shake my head. “And risk everything falling apart?”
That’s the whole point. Peace. Unity. Whatever. That’s what they keep saying. That’s why Father and the Alpha agreed: no magic, no claws, no guards. Just humans in the room. Neutral ground.
“Don’t give me that,” Damien mutters. “You don’t care about the people.”
He’s not wrong. I never grew up among witches. Never really felt like one of them.
“You still haven’t told me why you said yes.” His voice is quieter now.
I sigh. “Because someone had to.” Lie.
“Because Father told me to.” Another lie.
Both sound almost believable.
Damien narrows his eyes. “Since when do you listen to him?”
I don’t answer.
He watches me a moment longer, then sighs. One of those heavy, you exhaust me, but I love you anyway" sighs.
I bump his shoulder. “Relax. I’ve got this.”
A faint smile tugs at his mouth. Then he presses something into my palm.
A knife.
I blink down at it. “Seriously?”
“Just in case.”
Before I can respond, Father’s voice cuts through the hallway. “What are you two doing?”
Both of us flinch like kids caught stealing.
“Nothing,” Damien says smoothly, already slipping back into his usual cool. “Just... giving my sister some last-minute advice.”
Father doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it go. He slides my arm into his, stiff but formal, like we’re just a normal family walking down the aisle.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
I nod. Words are pointless now.
As we step forward, he leans in. Here it comes...
“This is important, Daphne. Don’t screw it up. Everything depends on this.”
Blah, blah, blah. Same speech as always. I tune him out.
My eyes scan the room. Witches sit on the left, their faces a mix of bored and tense. On the right, the werewolves, sharp-eyed and restless, all looking like they’re one insult away from shifting right there in the pews.
And beyond them, the humans. Neutral observers. A performance for their benefit.
“Make sure he doesn’t find out,” Father murmurs.
My stomach knots. I know exactly what he means.
“And smile,” he adds tightly. “It’s the happiest day of your life.”
Sure. If you say so.
I paste on a smile, the fake kind that feels like it might crack my face open.
Then, I see him.
Standing near the altar, back straight, dressed in black. My groom.
Even from behind, he looks... infuriatingly attractive. Broad shoulders. Tall. Annoyingly confident posture.
He’s talking to some red-haired werewolf, who notices me first. The redhead mutters something.
Slowly, my husband-to-be turns.
And the second his eyes find me... my heart stutters.
Not because he’s handsome, which, annoyingly, he is. Not because his stare feels like it’s peeling back every layer of me.
No.
It’s because this man, the Alpha, is going to die.
By my hands.
Chapter 2 — Two Weeks Before The Wedding
DAPHNE
It has been a slow morning here at the office. Most days as a data analyst are quiet, full of spreadsheets and patterns. But today, my thoughts can’t settle, not when Natalie is still missing.
I stare at the open journal on my desk, reading the same words over and over again, but they make no sense. I let out a sigh, heavy and tired, wondering what Natalie is trying to tell me.
7 may 2025
Ezekiel Hawthorne
That's all she left behind before she disappeared. No calls, no messages, just this written on one page of the journal. I flip through it again, hoping I missed something. A hidden clue, perhaps, a secret message. But there’s nothing, just blank pages.
Natalie has never gone missing like this before. She always tells me when she’s leaving, especially when she goes off exploring different corners of the universe. But this time, it's different, and it scares me that I don’t know what it means.
I glance at the picture frame on my desk. It’s a photo of me and Natalie, taken the day I was finally released as collateral to the humans. I remember that day so clearly. I was just five years old when I was handed over, offered as a peace token between witches and humans. They called it a symbol of harmony.
Natalie was the daughter of the human caregiver assigned to me. She became my first and only friend. I can still picture the first time we met, how she smiled at me, grabbed my hand, and snuck us out of that cold, quiet house. We laughed like we had known each other for a long time.
Where on earth are you, Natalie?
"Daphne." A husky voice cuts through my thoughts; I recognize the voice. It's Peter, my coworker. I turn around to face him. "Your aunt is here."
Aunt? I almost say I don’t have an aunt until I see who he’s talking about.
Drusilla. She’s not my aunt; she's my Father's aide, a full-blooded witch. Why is she here?
She waves at me like we're close. My jaw tightens. I hate it when witch business crosses into my human life. Here, I’m not Daphne Viremont. I’m just Daphne. Just human.
Peter gives me a polite smile before walking off, leaving me to deal with Drusilla on my own.
"What are you doing here?" I gnaw.
"Your father requests your presence." She replies, leaning against my desk. She lowers her head, trying to peek at the journal I’ve left open.
I snap it shut before she can read a single word.
"Why does he want to see me?" I ask, folding my arms. "I thought he forgot he even had a daughter."
Ever since she chose to stay with the humans, her father never reached out to her.
"Ask him yourself." "Drusilla says," clearly bored. She’s not interested in small talk, and I’m not interested in speaking to her either.
Peter walks over just then, holding a tray with two steaming cups. "Coffee for you and your aunt." He announces cheerfully.
Before I can correct him, something happens.
Drusilla, oh fuck her, lifts her eyes toward one of the cups. It slides off the tray and floats smoothly into her hand.
Peter gasps. The tray slips from his hands and crashes to the floor. "What the hell did your Aunt just do?"
I glare at her. "Look at what you've done. Erase his memory now." I snap.
She sighs and rolls her eyes like I'm the one being difficult. God, I hate her.
"Peter, is it?" She says lazily, locking eyes with him. Her voice drops into a slow, smooth rhythm. "You didn't see anything."
"Yes." Peter answers, already under her spell. Then he blinks, confused. "I bought coffee, huh?" He looks down at the mess on the floor. "When did it fall from my hand?"
"Let's go." I say, slipping the journal into my bag. I don't trust Drusilla not to cause more trouble. One more mistake, and my carefully built life as a normal human might fall apart.
She stands up from my desk, still sipping her coffee. "Goodbye, Peter." She hums sweetly, handing the cup to him. "I enjoyed the coffee." And with that, we leave my office.
***
We arrive at Velwyn Heights, the witch kingdom. It's been a decade since I last stepped foot here. I take a moment to look around, the familiar coldness of this place settling into my bones.
We enter my Father's chamber, and he's in a deep conversation with a few of his subjects. He gives me a small nod when he sees me, then continues talking like I'm not even there.
Without waiting for an invitation, I take a seat. He finally dismisses his subjects. Good. I have no intention of staying here any longer than I have to. This place holds nothing but bad memories.
My Father clears his throat as he walks over. Looking at him up close, I notice the wrinkles on his face. He's aging.
"How have you been, Daphne?" He asks, lowering himself into the seat across from me.
"As I've always been." I reply, crossing my legs in a crude manner. "Why did you call me?" I ask, skipping the fake pleasantries.
Father lets out a long sigh before he finally speaks. "You've probably heard about the alliance between the witches and the werewolves." His voice is dry and tired. "The Alpha and I have agreed to make peace."
I tilt my head, a little surprised. "Max agreed to peace?" I ask, my voice full of disbelief. Max, the Alpha I know of, hates witches. He’s our number one enemy; he is brutal, violent, and ruthless. He never misses a chance to spill witch blood.
"No." Father answers, shaking his head. "The new Alpha." He says it like it's something I should have known, but unfortunately, I don't. I've been too busy with my life among humans to keep track of werewolf politics.
"There's a new Alpha? What happened to Max?"
"He's dead. The new Alpha killed him. You know their tradition: kill the Alpha, become the Alpha."
I mouth a silent "oh" and lean back in my chair, still wondering how this information relates to why I'm here.
"The new Alpha is of true royal blood." Father continues. He is stronger, smarter, and far more dangerous than Max ever was. And with the human dignitaries supporting him, he has the power to wipe us out completely. I had to sign the peace summit for the sake of our people."
"Okay." I say slowly, already losing interest in the political drama. "So why am I..."
"There's going to be a wedding." He cut me off.
"And what does that have to do with me?"
"It has everything to do with you, because you're the bride." He says calmly.
I sit up straight, staring at him. "You've got to be kidding me."
"I'm not." Father firmly says. "You're the princess; it's your duty to protect our people. If you don't do this, there will be war."
I scoff. "Do I look like I care?"
"Daphne Viremont!" He snaps.
I shoot up from my seat, anger burning in my chest. "You’re doing it again, throwing me away, just like you did when I was five. You gave me up then, and now you’re doing it all over again." My hands are shaking. “I won’t let you use me.”
He says nothing, but I can see it in his eyes. He will always choose the kingdom over me. He always has.
"And for the record, it's Daphne Jackson." That's the name I took after I was adopted by Natalie's mother. That's who I am in the human world. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to do." Like finding Natalie.
But just as I turn to reach for the door, Father speaks again.
"Ezekiel Hawthorne." He calls. "He's really dangerous."
I freeze.
Slowly, I turn back to face him. "Ezekiel Hawthorne?" I repeat. It's the same name written on Natalie's journal.
"Yes," Father replies. "He's the new Alpha."
Suddenly, everything clicks into place. The date in Natalie's journal, the name... It wasn't random; it was a warning.
"If I don't give him a bride before the day ends." Father continues. "He'll take it as a sign that we're not serious about peace. The lives of our people depend on this."
I don't even think twice.
"I'll marry him."
Father looks stunned.
"I'll be the Alpha's bride."
Chapter 3 — Now, We Can Both Die Together
DAPHNE
Back to the wedding
I stand face-to-face with the Alpha, my husband-to-be, and I feel so small.
Ezekiel Hawthorne towers over me. Damien wasn't lying; Ezekiel is annoyingly good-looking. He's the kind of man who doesn't have to try to turn heads. Still, I'm not here to be charmed.
His raven hair is neatly styled, like everything about him is planned and perfect. His piercing grey eyes lock onto mine, and it feels like he’s looking straight through me. And his lips, unfortunately, are stupidly full, shaped like a heart, but there’s no warmth in them. Just the slightest twitch, like he’s fighting back... what? A smirk? A scoff?
His gaze slowly sweeps over me from head to toe and back up again.
Then, he snorts, like he's found something amusing.
What is that for? I narrow my eyes at him. Go ahead and laugh now, Alpha. Let’s see if you’ll still be smiling when I’m the one holding the knife.
The ceremony begins. The officiant, a human dressed in deep blue robes, steps forward and speaks about unity. He talks about how this marriage is meant to be a symbol of peace between the witches and werewolves.
Then comes the alliance contract. Ezekiel and I take turns pressing our thumbs onto the parchment, sealing it with magic and blood.
After that, it's time for the vows.
I take a breath and read the words I was told to say. Words about loyalty, trust, and a future together. But deep down, I know the truth, that I don’t mean a single word, and I never will.
***
[At Grey City]
Tucked deep inside the forest, we finally arrive at Grey City, the werewolf pack, and it's nothing like I expected. Growing up, I was told werewolves lived in the wild because they were animals, and I believed it. But, standing here now, I see how wrong that was. Grey city looks just like any human town. There are houses, schools, factories, even tall streetlights and paved roads. High-tech security cameras sit on every corner, mixed with old carved stones. Werewolves walk around in jeans, hoodies, and sneakers. Kids chase each other, laughing, just like human children. If I didn’t know better, I'd think this was a normal city full of normal people, except it’s freezing cold. The kind of cold that sinks into your bones.
A young boy, probably no older than eighteen, meets at the edge of the city. He introduces himself as Caelum and tells me he's been instructed to take me to the Alpha's house.
He talks a little too much and smiles a little too easily for my liking, especially when every other werewolf we pass stares at me like I don’t belong.
They glare at me like I broke into their world, like I forced their Alpha to marry me.
Caelum takes me round the Alpha's massive mansion, pointing out rooms and hallways like a cheerful tour guide. He shows me my bedroom, the kitchen, the training wing, and on and on he goes, but I'm not paying any attention to him. My mind is elsewhere, already planning. I need to find out what the Alpha knows and what he did to Natalie. And if he hurts her, I’ll make sure he regrets it.
"This is the Alpha's study." Caelum mentions, his voice breaking through my thoughts.
I snap to attention. The Alpha's study? That's how I can get information.
"Can I take a look inside?"
He shakes his head. "Sorry. Only the Alphas are allowed in there."
"Ah." I glance at the door, noting the simple lock. "Okay." I say with a smile, already making a note to return later, alone.
As we walk further down the hallway, Caelum speaks again.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Can witches really erase people's memories completely?"
"Yes." I reply with a nod. It’s one of the natural gifts witches are born with.
Caelum lets out a gasp like I've just told him magic is real for the first time.
"Do you want me to try it on you?" I tease, raising an eyebrow.
"Nope, I'm good!" He blurts, quickly covering his eyes with both hands.
I laugh under my breath. He's too easy and a little too cute to mess with.
We keep walking, and Caelum hurries to keep pace with me.
"Honestly, there's a lot I want to know about the witches." He adds, glancing sideways at me.
"You're the first werewolf who actually cares to know." I respond, still walking.
"I've always thought that witches were kind of special."
I stop and turn toward him. I'm about to ask what he means by that when a guard suddenly appears from the corner.
"The Alpha is waiting for you in the dining hall." He announces.
"We'll talk later." Caelum murmurs before stepping back.
I nod and follow the guard down the hall, trying to steady my thoughts.
The guard opens the door to the dining hall, and I step inside. Ezekiel is already there, sitting on the side of the long table. He has changed out of his formal clothes and now wears a plain black shirt, but even in something that simple, he still looks sharp—too sharp. The kind of man who doesn't need to be intimidating. The moment the door clicks shut behind me, my heart starts to beat faster for no good reason. I quickly remind myself that my knives are still hidden on me. I'm safe. There's nothing to be afraid of.
I walk to the table and take the seat directly opposite him, facing him. As I settle in, my eyes fall on the meal spread between us; it's a full feast, like this is a real marriage and not just a peace treaty.
I keep my face blank, but my mind stays alert. This is enemy territory. I shouldn't forget that.
"Why did you stay with the humans even after your term as a collateral ended?"
It's the first time I hear his voice. It's low, smooth, and annoyingly deep. I glance up at him. Seriously? That's the first thing he says to his new bride?
"I see you did a background check on me." I mutter, arching a brow.
"I had to know the woman I was marrying." He replies evenly.
"Oh? Yet you never bothered to show up to any of the meetings I arranged."
"I'm sure my aide explained..."
"That you were too busy?" I cut him off sharply.
He gives a small nod. "Yes."
"Busy with what, if I may ask?"
"Busy with my pack." He answers, his voice strangely calm, like we're chatting about the weather. As he speaks, he slowly undoes his cufflinks on his sleeves, as though I'm not even worth his full attention. "Some of us have responsibilities. Not everyone has time to play human."
My mouth falls open. Did he just insult me to my face?
"Play human?" I echo, leaning slightly forward. "Is that what you think I was doing?"
Ezekiel looks up; his grey eyes are unreadable. "I don’t assume. I speak from what I see."
"And what exactly did you see?" "I challenge," I say, crossing my arms.
"A witch pretending to be human. Playing house in a world that isn't hers."
I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "At least I wasn't hiding behind politics to avoid a meeting."
His lips twitch again, that almost smile that's more mockery than mirth. "You’re feisty. No wonder my father hated your kind."
"Good thing he’s dead then." I reply sweetly.
A flicker of amusement crosses his face, like my words somehow entertained him. "You’ve got claws, princess."
"And I’m not afraid to use them."
His gaze lingers on me, slow and assessing. "Good. You’ll need them where you are."
I raise an eyebrow. "Is that a threat, Alpha?"
"No." He says, reaching for his glass. "Just a promise."
I scowl at him as he takes a slow sip of his wine.
"Let's eat." He murmurs, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows.
My eyes drift for a second to the thick veins running down his forearms, and I find myself shamelessly staring.
"Eat." He repeats; this time it sounds more like an order.
My mind reacts quickly as I tilt my head slightly. Why is he so eager for me to eat when he hasn't even touched his food? That can only mean one thing: the Alpha is trying to poison me. He must really want me dead. Too bad for him, I want the same.
"I'll wait." I utter, keeping my voice calm. "You have to eat first."
He arches a brow; there's a hint of challenge in his eyes. "Why?"
"It's witch custom." I say. "The bride must watch her husband eat before she takes a bite; It's a sign of trust." I lie smoothly. There is no such custom.
"This is Grey city." He points out, setting his glass down. "Your customs don't work here."
I shrug, folding my arms. "Still, I'm a witch. I can't just throw away my tradition overnight, can I?"
Ezekiel stares at me for a long second, like he's trying to figure me out, before reluctantly picking a spoon.
I smirk and slide my plate over to him, switching it with his. "Eat."
For a moment, I think he's going to drop the spoon and refuse to eat. But then, he scoops up a bite of food and starts eating.
I narrow my eyes, watching him chew. I expect to see him choke and collapse, but nothing happens. Maybe the food isn't poisoned.
Suddenly, a new thought strikes me. What if the wine is poisoned instead?
Just as he reaches for his glass, I snatch it out of his hand and switch it with mine. "Drink this instead."
Ezekiel looks at the wine, then back at me. His lips part slightly as if to speak, but no words come.
One look at his face, and I know I'm right. The wine is poi...
He lifts the glass and drinks the wine.
What? I look down at the food, trying to figure out what I might've overlooked, when a strong hand clamps around the back of my neck, yanking me forward. "What the..."
Before I can finish, his face is already inches from mine. He seizes my lips with rough urgency, prying my mouth open with his tongue and pushing the wine from his mouth into mine.
I try to pull away, but his grip is too strong. I struggle, pushing at his chest, but he doesn't let go, not until every last drop of wine in his mouth is in mine.
Then, just before he pulls back, he bites my lower lip, like he wants me to know who's in control.
"Now," he murmurs, his deep voice like velvet smoke. "We can both die together." And he smiles, like the devil himself.
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