Good girl

The kingdom cheered.

And in the silence that followed, the three Alphas stepped forward to mark what was now theirs.

The moment the vows were spoken, the three Alphas extended their hands toward her.

Three hands. Three kings. Three different kinds of power, waiting to see which one she would take first.

The air in Ebonhold Castle seemed to tighten, the weight of a hundred eyes pressing down on her. The courtiers and nobles who had come to witness this unnatural marriage leaned forward, their whispers hushed but hungry. This was not just ceremony.

This was a test.

A silent battle of dominance, and Seraphina was its unwilling pawn.

The High Priest had said the words, but who she reached for first would set the tone of this marriage. Who would she honor? Who would she insult?

The Alphas watched her with a dark malicious gaze.

Darius Blackmoor, the warrior-king, stood on her left, his outstretched hand calloused from battle. His grip would be iron, his claim undeniable. If she took his hand first, she would be declaring submission to strength—placing her loyalty in the hands of the Wolf of War.

To his right, Cassian Vale’s hand was extended, fingers gloved in black silk. His lips curled, amusement flickering in his cold silver eyes. The Silver Fox of the West. His was the hand of power built on calculation, not brute force. If she chose him first, she would be choosing the path of cunning and control.

Then there was Lucien Graves, standing just slightly apart, his hand hanging loosely at his side, as if daring her to ignore him. His grin was lazy, but there was something dark in his golden eyes—something hungry. His body was relaxed, but she could sense the tension underneath, like a predator coiled and waiting to strike. The Wild King.

He would not take rejection well.

The hall was impatiently watching. Seraphina swallowed, her heart was steady but her mind racing. She could feel their eyes on her—not just the Alphas, but the nobles, the warriors, even her father. Waiting to see if she would hesitate.

Slowly, she let her gaze drift across their hands, as if weighing her choice carefully. Letting them believe she was considering and debating. When in truth, she had already decided.

She reached for Cassian Vale first.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Cassian’s smirk widened, something sharp and victorious flickering in his gaze. His fingers closed over hers—gentle at first, almost teasing—before tightening just enough to remind her that even silk can strangle.

Darius’ jaw clenched, his golden eyes darkening. Lucien tilted his head, his smirk never wavering, but the air around him shifted—charged and dangerous.

But Seraphina did not linger. She allowed Cassian to guide her forward just an inch—just enough for the world to believe she had made her choice—before she turned, smoothly and deliberately, and reached for Darius next.

The Wolf’s grip was nothing like Cassian’s. It was iron, unyielding and unshakable. A warrior’s grip, meant to crush and to claim. He said nothing, but his body radiated dominance, the heat of him wrapping around her like an unspoken warning.

And then, at last, she turned to Lucien.

His golden eyes gleamed with amusement, but she saw what lurked underneath. The challenge. The silent, predatory warning that if she denied him, he would not forget it.

So Seraphina did not hesitate. She slid her hand into his.

The instant she touched him, Lucien moved.

In one swift, reckless motion, he yanked her forward, forcing her to stumble against his chest. His grip was the tightest of all—not painful, not yet, but possessive. Unforgiving. His scent curled around her, wild and untamed, something that made her stomach tighten.

“Good girl,” he murmured against her ear. “But you should’ve picked me first.”

A sharp gasp rippled through the hall. Darius growled low in his throat. Cassian simply laughed under his breath.

Seraphina did not react. She did not blush, did not pull away, did not let them see even a flicker of unease. Instead, she tilted her head just slightly, letting her lips curve in the faintest, most delicate of smiles.

“You assume I didn’t.”

A flash of something dangerous lit Lucien’s eyes.

Cassian chuckled, releasing her first. “Clever little thing,” he mused, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve. “This might actually be fun.”

Darius said nothing, but his fingers flexed at his sides.

Lucien? Lucien grinned.

Seraphina turned away from all of them. Letting the weight of their stares settle against her spine. Letting them think whatever they wanted.

Because she had just passed her first test.

And now?

Now it was time to play the game.

A game to win, a game to destroy, a game to betray and a game to get revenge on those who deserves it.