Page 9 of Alpha's Impostor Bride

Suddenly, the world feels colder. He’s my fated mate. Shouldn’t he care a little bit?

He gets to his feet. “Since you have all the necessary training, I expect you to act like the queen of the North. You will have certain responsibilities, and a royal assistant will be appointed to guide you. Don’t overstep your bounds, Vivian. As long as you remember your place and don’t cross any lines, you can live in comfort here. Do you understand?”

I stare at him, my heart turning to ice as the last ember of hope dies within me. This is my fated mate in front of me, and even in his eyes, the only value I have is that of a substitute. The one individual in the whole world who is supposed to want me for me, doesn’t.

The emptiness that fills me makes me go limp, all the fight finally leaving me.

“I understand.” My words are quiet, lifeless.

He called me Vivian. My name is Vivian now.

Leanna Avery is dead.

Harriet dresses me for the mating ceremony. I once attended a noble’s mating ceremony, and I still remember how flamboyant the event was. Mine is not even remotely the same.

Mating ceremonies are considered marriages in the shifter world. The final step is for the male to give the female his mating mark. This is something that ties them together for eternity. The mark can be given immediately after the ceremony or in private. For royal matings, the mark is usually given in public, but today, when the officiant carries out the ceremony and asks Cedric to give me the mark, the king refuses.

I stare at his chest, a hollow feeling in my own.

Why am I not surprised?

“Princess Vivian.” The officiant, an older man, glances at me, his gaze filled with contempt. “You are now queen of the Northern Wolf Kingdom. Please lower your head so that I may place the crown upon it.”

Asking a queen or a princess to lower her head in front of anybody, even an officiant, is an insult. I’m very aware of that. But I’m also aware of the fact that I may now be the queen, but I am also a political prisoner. So, when King Cedric does not intervene, I lower my head. Aside from a handful of people, there is no one in attendance; the few that are, I hear them snicker at my action.

I stare blindly at the floor. They consider this humiliation? They should ask me what humiliation truly is. It’s to have your clothes stripped off in front of soldiers, to be whipped in front of them in your private areas. It’s being asked to perform degrading acts for the spectators. It is to be forced to eat off the floor after the food has been tainted. It is to thank your tormentor for being allowed to live.

It is to have your dignity stripped from you in every way.

Asking me to lower my head? That’s nothing.

I feel the crown placed upon me, and just as it is, Cedric says abruptly, “Alright. This is done. I have work to do. Derrick, have the announcements sent out, and let’s review the damages from the battle.”

He walks away, leaving me standing at the altar with the officiant. I feel my face burn as I stare at the ground. Everybody else is leaving, as well.

“Pity,” I hear someone murmur. “She was supposed to be so prideful and arrogant. Look at her now. She’s nothing now.”

Nothing indeed.

“Come along, Your Majesty.” A kind voice speaks softly, and I feel Harriet’s hands on my arms as she guides me down from the altar. “You should change and eat. Then we’ll arrange for some suitable dresses for you. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

“Yes.” As I let her lead me through the doors, I hazily wonder how long I’ll have to carry out this charade. Maybe once I give Cedric his heirs, he will get rid of me. A small, weary smile crosses my lips.

I hope that happens soon.

“You and the king will not share a bedchamber. Yours will be next to his, however.” Harriet opens the door of the room that will be mine. It is almost bare. I look toward the fireplace.

“Am I allowed to have a fire in here?”

Her eyes widen. “Of course, ma’am!”

She hurries to start a fire, and I wander over to the bed and sit down on it. I can see myself in the vanity mirror from here, and the white dress I’m wearing makes me want to tear it off. If it were easy to switch off one’s emotions, I would have done so long ago.

I wipe my eyes and fold my hands in front of me.

Once Harriet has started the fire, she approaches me. “Would you like something to eat?”

“I’m not hungry, but thank you.”

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