Selara's POV
I braced up my nerves with a very hard exhale, my lungs expanding and depleting as a large burst of air screamed in and out of me.
I looked again at the venue, and then at Darian, with whom I shared the backseat of the Rolls-Royce. His emotion was hidden behind his blank look, as he rested between the window and the seat, so he had a clear view of me.
My gaze then shifted to the little space between us. The distance he'd put between our bodies. Not that I cared about it, though, but for some reason I was conscious of it, and just couldn't shake it off my mind, as I couldn't shake off the thought of what I was about to do.
"After you, Lady Selara." Alpha Darian muttered, gesturing to the door.
I moved from him again, letting my gaze drift back to the venue, the flowers, balloons, and the decoration, made over the stone walls of the entrance to the hall, which seemed like a historic Italian castle.
Murder flowed freely in my veins, and I let it burn wild enough that it was scorching in my veins as it was in my stare, and then I dropped down the car.
I adjusted my clothes, a tight suit that clung to my body, and I strode into the castle.
I would have believed this was all a lie that Darian made. I would have believed Sylas was really dead and not alive, about to wed another woman, after putting a price tag on my head and selling me off like livestock.
When I saw the guards standing guard at the entrance of the hall, the recognition that flashed in their eyes at me, accompanied by the dread, I knew this was really true: Sylas had really done everything he was accused of.
The guards were once my deltas, part of the guards I once controlled as the heir of my father's pack, before I handed over everything to Sylas.
Yet, the bastards, even after recognizing me, gathered before the entrance, blocking off my path. While another batch pushed the guests to the side, or steered them in.
They all thrust their chest out in defiance. One of them was already speaking rapidly to his intercom in low, hushed tones.
"You can't come in here," the lead guard said. He stepped forward. His face was a mask of seriousness, and he raised it squarely above my head.
I would have commanded him to get out of my way, but I know where his loyalty lies. Now, I understand fully what happened that night. Sylas hadn't just let his bandits murder our men. He made them kill off every one of the guards that would be loyal to me, and challenge his claim to my family throne.
"I need to see Sylas, so can you tell him to get the hell out?" I started a little too politely, but I could keep up that momentum considering the rage burning wild in my veins. The last of my words ended in a yell. "Just get him out for me."
The guards stood firm before the entrance, the others practically pushing most of the guests still outside in.
"I am sorry, Lady Selara, I can't."
I scoffed, my insides curling from more irritation. Lady Selara. Not Luna Selara.
"Then perhaps you will be more compliant when he asks," I said, forcing on a grin. I had planned for Darian to come in later in my fight, but it seemed he had to come sooner.
I shifted for him to step forward. "Why don't you have a go at convincing him, Darian?" I nudged my jaw from Darian to the guard.
Darian chuckled darkly, brushing his thumb over his lips.
He looked over at the guards, who had now stepped back a foot, as if in fear of Darian. "You can choose to get out of the way for the lady, big boy, or you can choose to be taken out of the way. The first you can choose, the second I choose."
The guard's rigid shoulders dropped, and much of his crew behind him, too, trembled. Everyone in the lycan world knew Darain and knew what he was capable of—hell.
"I am sorry, Alpha Darian. But I received exclusive instructions from my Alpha not to let Lady Selara in. You, on the other hand, can enter." He said, chin trembling. And he remained on the spot.
"I see," Darian said, still playing with the slow, easy smile on his lips. He stepped forward, licking his lips, with a soft evil like slowness. "But I can't enter without her."
"Then I am sorry, you will have to leave—" the guard didn't finish when Darain's fist sailed fast in the air before colliding hard against the guard's jaw.
He moved so fast, all I saw was a blur of his hands, and then a collision of bones against flesh, and then the guard went down, eyes shut close.
Just one punch was enough to put him out of consciousness.
Darian adjusted his jacket, as it had been briefly disturbed. "I am sorry too," he muttered to the guard's limp form on the ground.
I looked then over to the others, who were now shivering. "Does anyone else want to join him?"
Darian's knuckles crackled in a ritual of bones as he folded them after my speech, drumming home my threat.
They shook their heads, one ran in, muttering fast to the intercom extending from his mouth to his ear, while the others parted like the Red Sea.
"This way, Alpha Darian."
Darian glanced at me. "Shall we?" he grinned at me, extending his hands for me to take.
I'd almost taken, almost dropped my palm on his, that our skins would touch, when something wild like realization snapped in his eyes and he snatched his hand away, with so much force he almost staggered sideways.
Before I could question him for why he thought his hands would still burn me even after two days of our mateship and that unfortunate incident of his hand burning my skin, he slipped into another smile like a mask, letting it consume the whole of his face.
He gestured with a throw of his hand forward towards the entrance. "Shall we?" He repeated, grinning.
Questions burned in my chest for him, but importantly, murder burned in my veins for someone, and in the battle of emotions, murder won.
And quietly, I strolled into the venue after him. All the guests were already on their feet as if waiting for me. At the end of the long aisle, the bastard shifted to me, his hands frozen midway, slipping his ring into Valentina Ludwig's fingers.
His gaze froze on me as I slowly approached the altar, paralyzed by shock.