Troy adjusted her collar again.

The tailored jacket hugged her massive frame a little too tightly, but she didn’t complain. She’d insisted on looking “decent” for the humans — even if her claws had shredded the first version of the suit out of sheer anxiety the night before.

Four arms. Two rings. One chance not to ruin this.

Her hearts thundered in sync, loud enough she thought someone might hear.

She glanced up, and there she was.

Her bride.

Glowing, smiling, walking toward her down the aisle like she didn’t have a care in the universe — like Troy wasn’t a towering alien with hooves, tusks, and a history written in scars. Like Troy was just hers.

And Troy melted.

The music swelled. The officiant began.

Words passed like dream fog until the vows were about to begin. Troy could already feel the ring box slipping slightly in her lower-left hand when—

“I’m sorry, but this is a joke, right?”

The voice cracked through the crowd like a thunderclap.

Troy blinked. She didn’t move — not yet. But her tails stilled behind her like coiled serpents.

A man in a gray suit stood halfway down the aisle, arms folded across his chest. He looked like a smug car salesman at a funeral. His graying hair was slicked back too perfectly. His jaw was locked in forced concern.

Her bride stiffened beside her. Quietly, Troy reached out and curled one hand around her fiancée’s — the one that was beginning to tremble.

“Stepfather,” her bride muttered under her breath, jaw clenched. “Rick.”

Rick sniffed, looking around like he was the victim here. “She can’t seriously be marrying that—thing, right? I mean, let’s not pretend this is normal. What happens when it turns on her? What if it hurts her? She’s just a girl.”

Troy blinked once.

Twice.

She didn’t move, but her lower right hand crushed the ring box slightly. Her claws pierced the velvet lining.

The crowd was dead silent.

Rick raised a hand with mock politeness. “Look, I know you all want to pretend this is love, but my wife and I—well, we think she deserves better. Someone human. Someone safe.”

That was the moment something in Troy’s chest snapped — not with rage, but with purpose.

Slowly, she stepped forward, towering over Rick like a shadow with golden eyes.

Every claw, every horn, every scar was a warning. But her voice?

Her voice was calm. Lethal in its softness.

“You want someone safe?” she said, smiling. Her fangs peeked out, sharp and gleaming. “I’ve carried her out of collapsing buildings. I’ve guarded her while she slept through explosions. I’ve held her hair back when she was sick, and I've memorized the exact sound of her breathing when she has nightmares.”

Rick tried to cut in, but Troy’s voice didn’t waver.

“I’ve fought warlords who bled acid. Creatures with teeth longer than your car. I’ve walked into storms that kill in seconds — and smiled. And you think I’m the danger?”

She tilted her head slightly, smiling like a predator.

“You’re not worried about her safety. You’re worried you’re not in control.”

Rick’s mouth opened. No words came.

“You don’t know love,” Troy said, more quietly now. “You know ownership. And she’s not yours to keep. She’s herself. She chose me. And I will spend every breath I have protecting that choice.”

Silence stretched long and tense.

Rick scoffed, glancing toward his wife — who looked like she wanted to evaporate. “I just think it’s a mistake.”

Troy smiled wider, her tusks gleaming.

“I don’t make mistakes. I destroy them.”

With that, she turned away.

The crowd parted like water.

She returned to the altar and found her bride staring at her with glassy eyes, hands shaking — not with fear, but with something warm and stunned.