I woke to the knock. Sharp. Unapologetic.
When I opened the door, a tall man in black handed me a sleek white box. No words. Just a nod and retreat.
Inside was a dress. Silk, smooth as sin, bone-white like a final breath.
A note lay atop it.
"Be ready. One hour.
-Kairus. "
My fists clenched the fabric before I even realized I was trembling. He chose the dress. Of course he did.
No choices left for me.
I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the woman reflected back. White gown. Hollow eyes. A doll dressed for display.
The neckline was dangerously low, the lace fluttering over my collarbones like the ghost of a threat. The slit ran high up my thigh—like he wanted to brand me even here, in front of God.
An hour later, the cars arrived.
Black. Polished. Bulletproof.
When I stepped outside, Kairus was already waiting—leaning against the car in a black suit that looked tailored to strangle. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but I felt them on me.
Possessive. Icy.
"You look...acceptable," he said.
I bit my cheek to keep from spitting something that would get me killed.
The ride was silent, tension pressing between us like a third body. Every now and then, I caught him glancing at me.
Not like a groom.
Like a hunter.
The church they brought me to was massive—white stone and stained glass bleeding color across marble. But there was no music. No guests. No joy.
Just a priest, already trembling.
And a half-circle of men in suits who looked like they'd buried more bodies than they'd baptized.
I stood at the end of the aisle. My legs wouldn't move.
Kairus turned back to me, his voice soft and wicked. "Come, Raven. Don't make me carry you."
I walked.
Each step felt like stepping toward my own execution.
We stood before the altar. My heart was a silent scream inside my chest.
The priest began the vows, hands shaking. But Kairus raised a hand and interrupted.
"No," he said. "She won't say the usual lies. She'll say my words."
Then he turned to me, removing his sunglasses slowly, revealing icy-blue eyes that stripped me bare.
"Raven Moreno," he said, voice deep and dangerous, "You will not promise love. You will not promise loyalty. You will promise obedience."
The priest faltered. "S-sir—"
"Speak when spoken to," Kairus snapped.
He turned back to me, gaze searing.
"You will walk beside me not as a wife, but as a possession. You will not lie. You will not run. You will not hide from what's mine. You will wear my ring, bear my name, and sleep under my roof. You will be marked—body, mind, and soul. And if you break this vow, there will be nowhere in this world to run."
My blood chilled.
His voice dropped.
"I take you, Raven, not because I love you. But because I've chosen you. And once I choose something… I never let it go."
The priest turned to me, lips trembling.
"I… I suppose you may now give your vow…"
My voice shook, but I met Kairus' eyes—those wicked, merciless eyes—and whispered the only words I could muster:
"I have no choice."
He smiled then.
Dark. Possessive. Triumphant.
The priest's hands shook so badly, he dropped the ring. One of Kairus' men picked it up before he could.
When Kairus slid it onto my finger, I flinched. The metal was cold. Too tight. Like a shackle.
"You may kiss the bride," the priest said.
And he did.
Kairus took my face in one gloved hand, tilted it back, and kissed me.
It wasn't gentle.
It wasn't sweet.
It was ownership.
His lips crashed into mine like a war cry. Like he wanted to brand me from the inside out. Like he wanted the world to know that Raven Moreno no longer existed.
Only hisbride remained.
When he pulled back, my lips burned. My lungs shook.
And he whispered against my mouth:
"This isn't a fairy tale, sweetheart.It's a cage. And now, you live in mine."
Then he turned to his men. "She's mine. And if any of you look at her again, I'll put a bullet between your eyes."
My spine froze.
My mouth went dry.
There was no applause.
No celebration.
Just silence as Kairus wrapped an arm around my waist and led me out.
I was no longer Raven Moreno.
I was Mrs. Kairus Vasiliev.
Owned.
Caged.
And it was only the beginning.
____
The kiss still burned on my lips.
Even as I sat in the backseat of his sleek black car, pressed against the opposite door, I could feel it. Branded. Bruised.
Kairus sat beside me, legs crossed with calculated ease, one hand resting on the leather seat between us, the other gloved, tapping against his knee. He hadn't said a word since we left the church. The silence clawed at me more than his voice ever could.
The driver up front was silent too, a man dressed in black with eyes like a ghost. Kairus's men were all the same—blank, quiet, terrifying.
The car's interior was dim, tinted. I caught my reflection in the mirror once and didn't recognize myself. Pale. Haunted. Married.
Kairus finally spoke.
"Take off the veil."
His voice was flat. Commanding.
I didn't move.
He turned his head slowly toward me. I could feel his stare even if I couldn't meet it.
"Don't make me repeat myself, Raven."
I reached up and slipped the veil from my hair, letting it fall onto my lap.
He looked at me—really looked. But not at my face. His eyes swept down the dress he chose, lingered on the neckline, the slit. There was an odd twitch to his jaw.
"You wore it well," he muttered, like it irritated him.
The passing city lights washed in through the window. Pale gold and red danced across his face, shifting. But he didn't blink. His eyes were fixed straight ahead now, jaw tight.
"Ugly lighting," he said suddenly.
I blinked. "What?"
He didn't answer.
He reached into the side compartment, pulling out a sleek pair of black-tinted glasses—the second pair today. But something about the way he held them, hesitated before sliding them on, made something prickle in the back of my mind.
Maybe it was how he never looked directly at traffic lights.
Or how he paused before choosing a tie back in the dressing room, asking his men to confirm it.
But it didn't make sense. Not yet.
The silence stretched again, and I hated it. I hated that he filled every second without saying a word.
"I suppose this is where you lock me in a tower?" I muttered bitterly.
He let out a breath that almost resembled amusement.
"No," Kairus said. "I lock things I value. I cage things I own."
His voice was soft, but the weight behind it made me shiver.
"I haven't decided what you are yet."
I turned to the window, nails digging into the soft fabric of my dress.
The city blurred by. The glass felt too thin between me and the world I no longer belonged to.
"How long until we get there?" I asked.
"Not long," he said, without checking.
And I knew then—he wasn't watching the roads.
He never had.
The car curved off the main street, onto a private path that led into a dense stretch of forest. No streetlights. Just shadows. The road was steep, winding.The door clicked open with a soft hiss, letting in the night air—crisp, cold, and smelling faintly of pine and storm. I didn't move. My gaze was locked on the mansion ahead.
It stood like a piece of heaven carved into stone and glass.
The mansion was massive, yet minimal. Modern architecture with a soul-crushing kind of perfection. Gleaming white walls rose like polished marble, their surfaces smooth enough to catch the moonlight and reflect it like a blade. Floor-to-ceiling windows spanned the front, tinted just enough to keep secrets behind their shine.
A long stone path split through a flawlessly trimmed lawn, leading up to sleek silver doors. At the center of the circular driveway was a grand fountain—crystal-clear water dancing under soft golden lights. A white marble sculpture sat in the middle of it: two hands reaching for one another but never quite touching.
Everything felt… untouched. Cold. Like no one actually lived here.
Kairus stood outside the car now, his suit framed by the lights from the entrance, coat whipping slightly in the breeze. His glasses caught the flicker of the lanterns, hiding his eyes. Hiding everything.
But then—unexpectedly—he reached in.
His gloved hand extended toward me, palm open.
I stared at it like it was a trap. Because maybe it was.
No words. No command.
Just his hand. Still. Waiting.
Every instinct in me screamed not to touch him. Not to take that hand. Because doing so would mean something I couldn't undo.
But the dress tangled at my feet. My spine ached. My bones felt hollow from exhaustion and grief.
So I took it.
His fingers curled around mine, firm but not bruising.
And just like that—he pulled me into his world.
The moment my heels touched the marble beneath us, he let go. Not abruptly. Not gently either. As if he had merely completed a transaction.
As if this entire marriage… was just a contract sealed with a kiss and silence.
I lifted my eyes to the mansion once more, its towering structure looming like a nightmare dressed in royalty.
It wasn't a home.
It was a cage with gold bars.
And tomorrow, I'd wake up in it as Mrs. Kairus Vasiliev.