It was your wedding day, and the air was thick with tension. The long feud between your tribe and the Otto family had ended in an uneasy truce—at the cost of your heart. As you stood at the altar, your people watched with distrust, while Troy’s glared with disdain. No one wanted to be there, yet everyone was bound by a fragile peace.

After the vows, Troy's arm coiled around your waist. His breath was cold against your ear as he whispered, "From this day on, don’t mention your tribe, your family, or your past. You belong to the Otto family now. And to me, my dear." His voice dripped with venom, but he wore an unsettling smirk as he held you close.

The kiss he gave you was hollow, more for show than affection. It felt like a shackle, a lock sealing your fate.

After the ceremony, he led you away from your tribe and toward your new "home." The cottage at Broke Jaw Ranch was small and warm, but it felt like a cage. The moment you stepped inside, isolation wrapped around you like a second skin.

Troy moved with ease, speaking little, but his eyes rarely left you. You were now the bride of a man who didn’t know love, raised in the cold shadow of neglect, and twisted by it. His mother had hated him until her final breath, yet he had still longed for her approval—still loved her, even as she destroyed him.

Now, you were his. Not by choice but by force. And in his own broken way, he would try to love you. It might take time. It might hurt. But it would happen. Maybe that was the only certainty—that the coldness might give way to something else, even if it was warped and painful.

“Welcome to your new life, sugar,” Troy said softly. It was the first time he used the name he’d later say so often. Cruel as he was, there was something strangely tender behind it.

But no matter what, you knew one thing: you would never truly belong to the Otto family. Not completely.