~CELIE'S POV~
‘This life must be a sham. How can it not be so?’ I wondered, reflecting on the sudden dismal turn of events.
Remembering the feel of the Alpha’s lips on mine, I bring my shaking fingers to my mouth. The memory stirs tears in my eyes, which I struggle to hold back, “I am so pitiful. I can’t even control my emotions. Of course, I cannot be a Luna.”
As sad as it is to return to my Uncle’s estate, my heart weeps about losing the life that I had been imagining with the handsome Alpha Cillian. Recovering from this bout of mopping is especially unattainable because I’ve fallen for the Alpha. Thus, I intend to walk away without notifying him about it.
As luck would have it, I meet Alpha Cillian the moment I turn the door knob to vacate the guest room. Appearing to be on the qui vive as if he was in a war, he asks me, “Are you going back? Don’t you like it here? Has this room not been set to your liking?”
I make no answer, being in a tizzy about getting rejected.
Unsure of what is plaguing me, the man takes hold of my hands and addresses the sudden change in my countenance, “What’s wrong? Why do you feel so distant all of a sudden, Celie?”
As if being pelted by the words of the elderly oracle about becoming the reason for Alpha’s death, I dare not say anything more than, “Lady Orion said I cannot marry you.”
“Just because you marry twice, it doesn’t mean I’ll die. Her prophecy is faulty,” declares Alpha Cillian, pulling me closer to his chest and discrediting the prophecy.
The warmth and care that emanates from his body gives me the faith to confide in him, so I ask him while daring to wind my arms around his waist, “Will you be able to love me?”
“It is because I love you that I want to marry you,” discloses Alpha Cillian, permeating a belief that I have finally found my one true love.
The joy that’s quite easily perceivable on my face does a perfect job of expressing how I feel about his decision to not abandon the idea of marrying me. To express my gratitude over the same, I put my hands around his neck, get on my toes and kiss him, an obvious act of professing my love for him.
He kisses me back, passionately and then pushes me to the bed. In the pit of my stomach, I feel a warm feeling that assures me that I am ready to accept him, to make him mine and love him like I haven’t loved anybody before.
The moment Alpha Cillian gets on top of me, I feel my heartbeat come to a halt. Consequently, I can only concentrate on his breathing and register his wild gaze that doesn’t scare me. Bemused about what he will do to me next, I shut my eyes and expect him to take charge of my body.
“No, we have to wait, Celie,” says Cillian, letting go of me with just a kiss on the cheek.
With my lips pursed into an uncomfortable silence, I become sadly ineffectual in hiding my disappointment with the situation. Nonetheless, my voice does not reflect much of an objection when I ask him, “Why did you stop?”
Grabbing my face with his huge hands, he clarifies, “There is a custom in our pack which necessitates that a couple should not indulge in anything physical until they are married. That’s why we have to wait.”
“Until tomorrow night then,” I speak daringly.
Not ashamed to see my building interest in my future husband, he assures me, “Tomorrow, I will make you mine.”
Before parting ways, he scoops out a charm bracelet from the under-pocket of his blazer. After winding it around my wrist, he says, “This is a small token of my love.”
“It’s lovely, but I do not have anything to offer to you,” I respond with a hint of uneasiness perceivable in my tone.
Being courteous as usual, he tells me, “I will be getting you. What more can I wish for?”
With that declaration, another kiss makes its way to my lips, and then he finally departs, obliged to perform his duties. I, on the other hand, rush towards the cupboard and eye the fine piece of clothing put together by the greatest couturiers for my big day.
As my hands run through the ruffles on that admirable piece, I feel my sight blurring and my head being burdened by a strange heaviness. Unable to bear the pain, I find myself lying flat on my bed shortly.
“It is about to begin. I might have another vision now,” I say as the muscles on my face relax.
The moment my eyes are reopened, I find myself in another room. From the looks of it, it is Alpha Cillian’s room. I am lying on his bed, alone, waiting desperately for him to deliver the promise he made the previous night.
Just when the door of the bedroom is pushed open, I see a gay Cillian making his way into the room. To charm my husband who has been my source of salvation, I rise from bed and move towards him to give him a proper greeting.
For some strange reason, Cillian’s hands remain behind him as he eyes me, reading me like a book from my head to my feet, probably mesmerised by the clothes that have been arranged for me. To sacrifice my virtuousness for the sake of the love that has bounded us in a sacred bond, I undo the ribbons of my dress, letting it fall freely to my feet, leaving me completely bare for my husband.
“Oh, Celie,” lets out Cillian as he puts his right arm around me to pull me into a strong embrace.
Registering his fast-paced heartbeat from having my head resting on his chest, I unintentionally get heebie-jeebies. Restraining myself from ruining this perfect night by giving way to my anxiousness, I wrap my arms around Cillian, letting him know that I accept him.
Surprisingly, I am not rendered a lovely kiss on the cheek. Instead, he throws me roughly on the bed, gets on top of me and takes hold of my hands. A little taken aback by his roughness, I feel my chest rising and falling due to my heart’s intense palpitation.
“Close your eyes, Celie,” demands Cillian. “I am certain you’re bound to give me ecstatic moans if you'd let your senses take over you by keeping your eyes shut.”
Subservient as a wife should be, I do my bidding. He then runs his fingers through places that haven’t been explored before, leaving me a little out of breath and what my Uncle would consider whorish. Discarding the garments of shame for the sake of this foreign pleasure, I audaciously ask my husband to keep going.
For Cillian to be on par with the desire emanating from my shivering body, I hope he’d continue to tease me. Sadly, he doesn’t plan on following my wishes. He makes that clear by striking a huge dagger into my heart, forcing me to open my eyes in pure horror.
“My revenge is complete now,” announces Cillian, glimmering with joy.
Rueful tears fill my eyes, and I come back to my senses and the bed in the guest room. Panting from the nightmarish vision, I sit erect on the bed, struggling to make sense of all that I had seen.
Deducing the unpleasant vision to be crafted by nothing but my terrible experiences from the past, I tell myself, “Having been subjected to pain from a younger age, I must be struggling to stomach the happiness thrown my way. An agreeable and gracious man like Alpha Cillian would never harm a woman.”
Though my words express my unfazed faith in my would-be husband, my trembling body suggests otherwise. For a vision alone, it was unquestionably too vivid and appalling. By being able to wake up in the guest room, I felt as if I had been resurrected.
Throughout the entire night, I ruminated over every aspect of that vision, trying to poke holes in it to make it unbelievable and liberate myself from the suspicion of it ever coming true. The things that I told myself convinced me enough to keep me in bed, but they failed to put me to sleep, leaving me restless in the morning.
From three o’clock in the morning to 12 o’clock in the afternoon, the time passes me by quickly, making me the subject of ridicule among the bridesmaids who come to help me get dressed for my wedding.
Picking myself up from the bed, I drag my feet to the bathroom to freshen up and get into the wedding dress. When I am decorated with the right amount of admiration and makeup, I receive guests who have been desperately waiting outside my room.
Secure in my belief of not having any relative too dear to be present at my wedding, I cudgel my brain about these guests who the bridesmaids said were dying to meet me.
To my displeasure, the guests end up being none other than my Uncle Augustus and Aunt Deborah. As lecherous as ever, Augustus insolently observes the pattern on my blouse or tries to envision the shape of my breasts.
“You sure look lovely,” says Augustus, pulling me closer for a hug.
Deborah breaks his grasp over my shoulders and then gives him an admonishing gaze, which puts the man in his place. She then instructs all the other girls to vacate the room, proposing that she wishes to have a private talk with her niece.
People naïvely do what’s asked of them, leaving me alone with the reprobate couple. After the girls’ departure, an expected shift can be observed in my aunt’s tone when she addresses me.
“You are going to deny this marriage and return with us to our estate by propounding that you cannot bear to part with your uncle and aunt,” says Deborah with a gaze that penetrates deep enough to recognise the fear bubbling inside of me.
Torn between the presented choices, I wonder if it would actually save my life to deny Alpha Cillian’s offer. Then I rummage through my mind the memories of mistreatment and torment in the past, which leaves me even more distraught.
‘Although I was certain about being hurt by my paternal uncle on returning to his estate, there was little to no surety about my vision coming true. Apart from that, I also loved Cillian,’ I take my sweet time in deciding that I want to follow my heart and deliberately turn a blind eye to my vision while simultaneously knowing the accuracy of the previous ones.
The snarly aunt snaps her fingers before my eyes as she asks me, “Why aren’t you saying anything? Maybe it is your desire to disobey me which is keeping you tight-lipped.”
“There can be no such thing as keeping secrets from the only people who care for her,” suggests Uncle Augustus, trying to get closer to me, to touch me while communicating his thoughts.
Aware of his ill intentions, I step away as I falsely assure the wicked ones, “I will do as you’ve instructed.”
Deborah points at my lack of emotions and regards it as a contributing factor in making her suspicious of me, “I am not convinced. Your face screams deception.”
Since I am irrefutably telling a lie, I know there are no amount of words that I can employ to dispel the doubts of the iffy creature before me. That robs me of the ability to speak.
“ I can’t help but notice that you’ve grown quite audacious since you’ve liberated yourself from us. How did you dare to go silent on me? It turns out you’ve forgotten how I love scourging your beautiful ass,” states Aunt Deborah, raising her hand to strike me.
Fearful, I shut my eyes and bring my hands to my face to prevent being harmed. Opportunely, there is a knock on the door that stops Deborah, who quickly goes to answer it.
It is Lady Orion, who arrives with a troubled expression to inform us that it is time for my uncle to present me to the Alpha. Uncle Augustus rushes to my side and inappropriately grabs my waist, being given the opportunity to escort me to the altar.
Not letting woe surface on my face, I bear a smile, overlooking all that is stirring in my apprehensive mind. Praying my vision of being betrayed on my wedding night was nothing more than a figment of my imagination, I pluck up the courage to keep walking towards my handsome Cillian, who is all smiles at seeing me.
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