Chapter 3 Bride Selection
Emilia’s POV
The scent of roses and expensive perfume hit me first.
My eyes fluttered open to find myself staring at an ornate ceiling with intricate moldings. The bed beneath me was obscenely soft.
Where the hell was I?
I sat up too quickly. My head spun, the sedative still clinging to my system. The room around me was massive—easily twice the size of my bedroom back at the Frostridge pack house. Everything screamed wealth: silk curtains, marble floors, a chandelier that looked like it belonged in a palace.
Then I caught sight of myself in the full-length mirror across the room.
They’d dressed me up like a doll.
My hair cascaded down my back in soft waves, and my makeup highlighted my best features. My eyes looked deeper, my lips fuller, and my reflection almost felt unfamiliar.
The navy silk dress fit me perfectly, elegant and flattering, making it impossible to look away.
I looked gorgeous.
I looked like a bride being prepared for slaughter.
Of course they made me pretty. Can’t send damaged goods to the devil himself.
My father had held that elaborate birthday ceremony not out of love, but as a public display—proof that he’d treated both daughters equally. Then he could ship me off to Sebastian Simons with a clear conscience, his reputation intact.
Linda got Brandon. I got a death sentence.
He’d probably started planning this the moment my wolf failed to emerge.
A sharp knock at the door.
"Miss Taylor?" A woman’s voice. "Alpha Sebastian’s selection will begin shortly. Please follow me."
My stomach dropped. This was really happening.
I opened the door to find a middle-aged woman in a black uniform. She looked me up and down with cold assessment.
*The Frostridge pack must really be desperate,* her thoughts hit me. *Sending a wolfless embarrassment to Alpha Sebastian. Do they think we’re idiots?*
The malice in her thoughts made my jaw clench. But I kept my expression calm, following her down a hallway that seemed to stretch forever.
The mansion was even more impressive than my room suggested—a sprawling estate that mixed modern luxury with old-world elegance. We passed floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking manicured gardens, walls lined with what I suspected were original Renaissance paintings.
As we walked through the double doors, the noise hit me.
Not sound—thoughts.
Dozens of them, all at once, crashing into my mind like a tidal wave.
*I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. Marrying a notorious demon. My life is over.*
*He might be violent, but his marriages never last long. Two months tops, then divorce. But that severance package... eighteen million dollars and the status of being a Simons? Worth the risk.*
*Oh God, she’s gorgeous. If that wolfless bitch gets chosen instead of me, I swear I’ll—*
*My father’s going to kill me if I don’t get selected. The pack needs this alliance. I have to make him notice me.*
The thoughts overlapped, tangled, multiplied. It felt like a thousand bees had nested inside my skull, their buzzing growing louder and louder until I couldn’t tell where one thought ended and another began.
My vision blurred. The hallway tilted.
I pressed a hand against the wall, trying to steady myself, but the thoughts kept coming, relentless and overwhelming.
*Why is she touching the wall? Is she going to faint? Pathetic.*
The guide’s thoughts cut through the chaos, sharp with disdain.
"Miss Taylor?" Her voice sounded distant, underwater. "Are you quite alright?"
I couldn’t answer. My throat had closed. My lungs refused to expand. The edges of my vision darkened as panic clawed up my chest.
*Breathe, *I commanded myself desperately. *Just breathe.*
But the voices in my head wouldn’t stop. They grew louder, angrier, more frantic.
A waiting area, with at least thirty women, all dressed to perfection, all wearing varying expressions of fear and determination.
The receiving room doors burst open.
A woman stumbled out, makeup streaked down her face, shoulders shaking with sobs. As she rushed past me, her thoughts slammed into mine with devastating clarity.
*I’ve never met such a cruel, heartless Alpha in my life. The way he looked at me—like I was dirt. Like I was nothing. God, I just want to go home. I want to disappear. I want—*
She was gone before I could process it, but two more women followed in quick succession, each one crying, each one broadcasting their terror and humiliation directly into my brain.
*Monster. He’s a monster.*
*Those eyes. Those cold, empty eyes. Like a predator deciding whether to kill you now or later.*
*I’m not pretty enough. I’m not smart enough. I’ll never be enough for someone like him.*
I doubled over, pressing my palms against my temples, trying desperately to shut them out. But I couldn’t. The ability was too new, too raw. I had no control.
"Miss Taylor!" The guide’s hand gripped my elbow, steadying me. "You’re next. Pull yourself together."
I forced my head up, blinking away the spots dancing across my vision.
Two guards flanked the entrance, massive wolves who watched me with undisguised contempt.
*Run, *every instinct screamed. *Run now while you still can.*
But I’d seen the guards. I’d seen how the estate was locked down tighter than a prison. Even if I made it past them, where would I go? Back to a father who’d drugged and sold me? Back to a sister who’d stolen my boyfriend and laughed about it?
I had nowhere to run. No one to save me.
So I did the only thing I could.
I straightened my spine, lifted my chin, and walked through those doors like I had a choice in any of this.
The receiving room was enormous. But despite its size, the air felt suffocating, pressing down on me from all sides.
And then I saw him.
Sebastian Simons sat in the center of the room on a leather sofa that looked more like a throne. Even seated, his presence dominated the space. Tall. Powerfully built. He radiated the kind of authority that made people instinctively want to kneel.
Dark hair. High cheekbones. A straight nose. Every feature sharp and defined.
His eyes... Green. Piercing. Intense and unforgiving.
Those eyes locked onto mine.
And suddenly, the world went silent.
All the voices—the screaming, buzzing chaos that had been tearing my mind apart—vanished in an instant.
I couldn’t hear his thoughts. Couldn’t sense anything from him except... presence. Weight. Power.
It was the most peaceful silence I’d experienced since this cursed ability had awakened.
And this peace, ironically, came from the very man most likely to kill me.