Amia's POV
"Smile, even if you're seconds away from breaking down."
The words echoed in my head like a chant as I raised the golden cup to my trembling lips. The cup was the very one that would seal my fate. I kept my gaze lowered, terrified that even the flicker of defiance in my eyes might cost me everything.
Tears were threatening to fall, and my breathing was too loud.
"Drop the cup and run!"
My wolf whimpered softly, her voice a desperate plea in the back of my mind.
"If we run now, we die," I whispered back, as my gaze flickered to the side—where he stood.
Ezra. My mate.
Just the sight of the slick, scaled tail curled behind him made my body tremble. I couldn't even raise my eyes high enough to meet his.
"Miss," came a gentle voice from in front of me.
I looked at the elder with widened eyes, silent pleading.
I was screaming on the inside! Someone, anyone, please save me from this nightmare.
"You haven't taken a sip yet," he said in a low tone, his voice rough and cold—a warning that was masked as a whisper.
Of course, he was annoyed. He served my father, the Alpha, after all. Obedience was expected, not tears or fear.
"What are you waiting for, you stupid bitch? Do you want to die?" My father's voice snapped through the pack's mind-link.
I forced my eyes shut and swallowed the contents of the cup, ignoring Shame, my wolf's cry, which was now louder.
The elder smiled wickedly as he snatched the cup from my hands and passed it to Ezra.
The moment Ezra's scaled, powerful hand touched the cup, bile rose in my throat.
"I will fucking kill you if you mess this up!" My father's voice came through again, this time sharper with dominance.
But that wasn't what I feared most.
What truly terrified me was what he would do to my little sister if I disobeyed.
When the cup returned to the elder, he raised his hands high, and the crowd rose behind us, seated across the garden.
"Please hold hands," the elder instructed.
I hesitated. My gaze still glued to the ground, I turned toward Ezra and slowly lifted my trembling hands. I waited… seconds stretched into minutes.
Nothing.
"Lord Ezra," a soft, female voice called from behind us.
A loud hiss cut through the air, and then—cold, scaly hands gripped mine roughly. Sparks spread across my skin, flooding my body with tingles.
The elder wrapped a crimson ribbon around our joined hands tightly, as it was a symbolic binding.
I closed my eyes and begged the goddess for something, anything, to go wrong. A storm, a collapse, an attack… but when the ribbon vanished in a soft glow, I knew it was over.
The ceremony was complete. I was now bonded. Wedded.
To the very monster I feared.
As the crowd cheered behind us, I sat motionless, consumed by guilt.
I blamed myself for being weak, for being an omega, for dragging Cassidy into this life.
I hated the moon goddess for mating me with a half-serpent. But most of all, I hated myself for being born.
Footsteps approached behind me, soft and measured.
A small, pale hand touched my shoulder.
"Please come with me. We must prepare you for your first night with the Lord," she whispered.
I stood slowly, my legs heavy as stone, and followed her down a cold corridor.
Her back was slim, and her long black hair flowed to her waist. She smelled faintly human, but that didn't add up. No human had ever survived the Serpent's Nest.
"My darling daughter, a word."
My father's calm voice came from behind.
I instantly froze.
The woman halted but didn't turn.
Heavy footsteps soon followed as I tried my very best to compose myself.
A rough hand grabbed my shoulder tightly as I bit my lower lip to keep myself from crying out.
"I came to tell you congratulations, child." His breath brushed against my ear, hot and disgusting.
"If you mess this up, your sister will lose her fingers. Then her tongue. Then her pretty little eyes. And you… You will be ripped apart slowly," he whispered, then stepped back.
"Make me proud, sweetheart," he added, this time raising his voice. He truly sounded like the perfect Alpha father when, in truth, he was the devil.
"Y-Yes, Alpha," I answered in a cracked, husky voice.
I followed the woman again, my feet dragging up the stairs as if they were made of glass. Each step felt heavier, and each breath was loud.
"This will be your room," she said as she opened two large doors.
"No one will attend to you tonight. We will be serving the Lord and his guests. I suggest you change your attire and wait for him," she said, then left without another word, shutting the doors behind her.
The room was dim, lit only by the pale moon pouring through the balcony window.
The walls were faded and cracked. The fireplace was gray and dusty. The bed was large, but the sheets were stained.
A small table sat in the corner with one chair and a book. The wardrobe barely held two plain gowns.
Clearly, the room had been deliberately chosen to degrade me and make me feel out of place.
But what they didn't know was?
This room was paradise compared to the one I had.
Back in the pack, I slept on a shredded mattress laid on the cold floor.
As I walked around, something was clear to me.
This was my wedding night, and my nightmare had only just begun.