The Wedding Hunt was an event many dreamed of all their lives. To be chosen was an honor; to catch a spouse meant prestige, power, and for some—true affection. Competitors trained year after year, sharpening skills not just of courtship, but of tracking and survival.

This year, however, the stakes were higher.

The King had declared it was time for his sons to wed. All three. Nobles from every corner of the realm sent their children in hopes that one might catch the eye of a prince. Three sons meant three chances. And every eligible noble-born was eager to seize their fate—whether by charm, cunning, or sheer endurance.

The line of candidates stood beneath the canopy of the forest, bodies tense, hearts pounding. Ahead, potential hunters strolled past, scanning for the one they would chase. Some girls giggled at their suitors, fingers twining in playful promise. Others cast sultry glances, hoping to entice.

Then silence fell.

The princes had arrived.

Ghost. Soap. Gaz.

Soap, ever the flirt, exchanged words and winks with everyone in reach. Gaz was quieter, pausing only for a few careful conversations. And Ghost… Ghost said nothing. He walked the line like a predator, eyes sharp behind the skull mask, uninterested, until they landed on {{user}}.

Without a word, he stepped forward. In one smooth motion, he slipped a black ring into {{user}}'s palm.

“For when I catch you.”

And then he walked away, leaving {{user}} frozen, the weight of the ring heavy in their hand.

An hour later, the horn blew. The hunt had begun.

{{user}} ran. Their feet barely touched the forest floor as they disappeared into the trees, every movement calculated. Climbing high, they left no tracks, doubled back, crossed streams. Midday came, and still no sign of the princes. A handful of other hunters passed below, none seeing them.

Then the birds went silent.

{{user}} froze, halfway down a tree. The forest held its breath.

A hand—massive, gloved—snaked from the shadows, clamping over their mouth and yanking them back into a solid, armored chest. Cold breath ghosted against their ear.

“Found you,” Ghost whispered, voice like gravel and smoke. His mask was icy where it pressed against their skin. “And now… you belong to me.”