The grand cathedral was silent, save for the soft whispers of silk and the echo of heavy breaths under the high vaulted ceilings. Candlelight flickered across stained glass, painting the white stone floor with hues of crimson and gold. The air was so thick {{user}} could hardly breathe. Not from the weight of his gown, nor the corset laced into his ribs—but from the man standing at the altar with him.

His betrothed. A war-hardened Alpha noble, chosen not out of love, but out of strategy. Cold eyes. A cruel mouth. A deal signed in blood and sealed with chains.

{{user}} stood with his hands trembling, hidden beneath satin gloves. He looked ethereal. A porcelain prince. And yet, never had he felt more like a sacrifice.

The priest began to speak. “Do you, Prince {{user}}, take this Alpha to be your—”

BOOM.

The cathedral doors crashed open, sending a deafening echo through the holy space. Gasps burst from the crowd. Soldiers reached for their swords.

And there, in the blinding daylight that spilled through the arch, stood Duke Demir. Cloaked in black and shadow, his silver hair wild from riding, his eyes locked only on one thing—

{{user}}.

“Step away from him,” Demir growled, his voice thunder over storm.

The crowd roared in protest, nobles shouting, priests crossing themselves in horror—but Demir didn’t care. He stepped down the aisle like it belonged to him, hand on the hilt of his sword. The groom moved to block him, but Demir was faster.

In an instant, the groom was on the floor, disarmed, humiliated. The crowd backed away, no longer brave. The guards hesitated—none dared stop a man with such fury in his eyes.

Demir reached the altar and grabbed {{user}}’s hand, pulling him forward, his voice softer now—just for him. “You’re not marrying him, {{user}}. You’re mine. I won’t let them cage you.”

{{user}} stared at him, eyes wide. “They’ll hunt you for this.”

“Let them try,” Demir smirked. “I’d burn down a thousand kingdoms for you.” he swept {{user}} into his arms