“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest prompted.
I didn't think, I just moved. My hand slid around her waist, pulling her close. Her body tensed for half a second, then stilled. The soldiers stood at the edges like shadows, but right now, I only saw her.
She looked straight into my eyes as if she knew exactly what she was doing. Like she'd planned it. So, I kissed her. Hard.
Her lips met mine without hesitation. No fear, no struggle, just heat and fire.
When I finally pulled back, she whispered, "Was that enough for your people?"
I blinked, stunned. "Enough?"
She tilted her head, her lips still curved. "You wanted a show, and I gave you one."
I almost laughed, not from amusement but disbelief. No one ever spoke to me like that. Not in public, not with that kind of calm power.
My hand still rested on her lower back. "Careful, Isabella. You might make me think you enjoy this."
She smiled again, the kind that cut deeper than any blade. "Maybe I do. Or maybe I'm just learning how to play your games."
For a woman who just surrendered, she looked far too victorious.
The ceremony was over, but I couldn't take my eyes off her.
She stood a few steps away, speaking quietly to Emilia. Her posture was perfect, and her face was calm, so calm that it drove me insane.
I wasn't used to calm, fear, trembling hands, downcast eyes, and obedience. But Isabella gave me none of that. She gave me silence and steel.
Viktor's voice cut through the crowd. "You're staring," he muttered.
I didn't deny it. "She's mine now."
He gave me a look, half warning, half pity. "Just remember why this marriage happened, Mikhail. It wasn't for lust."
I smirked, raising my glass. "Who said anything about lust?"
But even as I said it, I couldn't stop looking at her. The red of her dress was burned into my mind. That color belonged to power, to danger, and to blood. And she wore it like she knew it. Like she was daring me to react.
Emilia walked away, leaving her alone. I moved closer, step by step, until the sound of my shoes met the quiet rustle of her gown.
She didn't turn; she knew I was there. That was the worst part, she always knew.
"You're still watching me," she said softly, her back to me.
"I have every right to," I replied.
She turned then, her eyes locking with mine. "And what exactly are you watching for?"
"Answers."
"To what questions?"
"What kind of woman marries a monster willingly?"
Her lips curved. "Maybe the kind who doesn't fear monsters."
That hit harder than I wanted to admit. My jaw tightened. "Fear keeps people alive, Isabella."
"Or it keeps them small."
