The last day of the choosing was finally called to an end, all of the Sword Maidens representing their clans and all the Lords and Ladies were waiting for the young Lord to announce who he had chosen to be his wife.

The tension in the room was so thick that even a blade crafted from an iron serpent's scale could not cut through it. Anticipation was in the air, Even though their mouths did not move the silence of the room said what they were all thinking. This would be the beginning of a new era. Who he picks to rule by his side will shape the moons to come.

"After much consideration, I have decided," Wath pauses for effect, he took the slightest pleasure in knowing that he alone held the answers to what they sought. "Syrin, daughter of the Clan of Envy, I have chosen you to be my bride."

The heads of the clans parted, making way for their new Lady of the Thousand. All eyes were upon her as they picked her apart, looking for flaws so they could justify their hatred over the fact that she was chosen. They could find none. She was the picture of grace and elegance, even the way she glided towards Wrath as regal as a maiden born for the position of Lady Wrath.

Wrath stood up and made his way down the stairs, a sign of respect that he was extending to his new beloved. Thunder-like claps rained down around them, echoing in the hall, but it was only out of respect that they showed such support. For only a fool would think they were not as envious as her clan's namesake.

The Lord and his soon-to-be Lady Consort came to a halt but a hair from each other. So close in fact that Wrath could feel her breath tickle his collarbone ever so slightly. The Lord of the Thousand gazed down upon the beautiful maiden with approval in his eyes. Out of all the maidens he met, she was the only one that was fit enough to hold a spot by his side. Wrath had been wary at the start of the choosing that he would have to settle for an incompetent woman below his skills and most importantly his standards.

In no way were other maidens weak and not worthy to belong in the clans but Wrath has always been far above those in his generation. Wrath had been surprised when Syrin made her way through the throne room doors, but that surprise quickly turned to relief when he realised he would not have to pick a lesser bride.

"You have proven yourself to me and my kin." He whispered as he placed a hand on her face. "I am in awe of you, it would be an honour to take you as my consort."

He waves his other hand, without looking away, indicating to everyone, hidden or not, that they may now leave. The hair on both the lovers' bodies stands up as the hall sizzles with magic as it is emptied in less than a second, leaving the two truly alone for the first time.

"The honour is all mine, my Lord." She blushes, fanning her face. "I cannot begin to express how much this means to me."

"You can start by doing this." He smiles, taking off his mask in front of her for the first time.

She gazes up at him, awestruck by his action. Her eyes trace the outline of his lips as he leans down and connects with her for the first time. The kiss was slow and sensuous, her lips were far softer than he had anticipated. Syrins toes curled at the intensity of the kiss, she was already attracted to the savagery and power that was hidden behind the man but after glimpsing his face that slight attraction turned into blinding lust. With what can only be described as shocks of electricity running up and down her spine she knew that she would have no problem consummating their union when the time came.

"I'm sad to say I must depart from you for the time being for I have preparations to make for the upcoming union." He spoke when he finally pulled away from the world-shattering kiss.

It took everything he had to step back from her and not take her on the throne right then and there. What made it harder was that he knew she felt the same, if the way her fingertips lingered on his arm when he pulled away wasn't an indication, the hardened pebbles beneath her dress gave it away.

He took a moment to realign his mask and with a quick pulse of magic he summoned Tristan into the room with barely a blink of an eye.

"Take the new Lady Wrath to see Lady Lust, they have much to discuss this day." He ordered, not bothering to greet the man in any way.

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His only reply was a silent nod, and in a moment, they were gone from his sight. The young lord looked to his right, where his sister's presence had just appeared in the throne room.

“I did not take you as one to have a kink for voyeurism sister.” Wrath jests, his mask tilting to the side at the joke.

"And I did not take you for such a wise arse," She spoke sharply, not in the mood for his jokes. “I do not trust her brother.”

"Neither do I, not yet, at least," He spoke truthfully, surprising his sister. “Trust takes time, it is earned not given, but right now time is something we are without.”

"Wait, truly?" She said surprised, sighing in relief. "And here I thought she had already taken your cock in a vice big brother!" She laughed at the way his head tilted at the barb, the most expressive she would see with that mask on his face.

The man resisted the urge to groan at her jesting, oh the joys of having a younger sibling.

"Despite what you may believe I am not so ruled by my base desires little ember." He retorted using his mother's old nickname for her, he noticed the slight recoil as the sound reached her ears. Their mother was a sore subject for all of them. "She was just a little too perfect in her looks, her actions, and her words to have been truly genuine." He noted sighing slightly.

"What, no true love at first sight?" She swooned, fanning her face like a particular Lady of Lust. "No, oh she is my soulmate and I love her no matter how suspicious she may have been?" She chortled at him.

Indeed the new Lady Wrath was everything that he desired in a woman in all ways, her looks, her body, her skills and to be honest it was deeply unnerving. He has faced the law of attraction many times and has had his fair share of maidens and a few wenches as well but never has he been so powerfully attracted to one before. However, he is not foolish enough to let his urge to court her in private cloud his judgement and his duties as leader of the clans’.

“Brother..” Gabriella speaks, filling the silence that settled over them. “There is something that I’ve been wondering…”

"You think she's a skinwalker" He states to his closest kin, finishing her sentence before she had the chance to utter the words herself.

The thought had crossed his mind, Syrin looked far too much like a skinwalker for it to be a coincidence. Her beautiful porcelain white skin, her long silvery hair and her ivory eyes glowing with power. The only other explanation would be that she was a snow nymph but that would be impossible for three reasons. Her skin was warm to the touch, a blizzard nymph could never survive under the climate in this region and even if a blessed were to mate with a nymph the children were never born blessed. She was blessed indeed...

"Whatever she is, she's not a pureblood." She deflected, not entirely sure.

"Hmm, the skinwalkers were meant to have been hunted down centuries ago...find out her bloodline as soon as possible, would you dear sister?" He requested.

"Oh my dear brother, you dishonour me, I already have Herra on the job." She smiled back happily.

He nodded his head at her once in contentment before teleporting out of the hall in search of his closest friend, Xavier, the Lord of Love.

He materialised beside him once he sensed him above the fields, watching over some of the young. Xavier noticed when Wrath appeared but the two long-time friends stood in silence as they watched the children hunt each other among the tall grass. It was kept uncut for this purpose so that the children of the mask could hone their skills. From where he watched them cut and pounce at each other from his place above, Wrath could sense which of the young ones were using their stealth magics to assist them. As unrefined as they were, they were far easier to detect than their elders.

The Thousand Masks usually start training their kids from a young age, however, there are some rare cases such as Lord Wrath's youngest kin where they are born without the instinct to kill and have to be enticed into learning the art of war at a much older age. Much to his dismay and shame of course.

Wrath himself believed that those born defective should be thrown into the clans much earlier. Instead of having them sheltered and treated as lowly mortals, they should have the bloodthirst beat into them.

"They are improving quickly, my Lord, in due time they will be able to advance to the next level and begin training under Lady Wisdom," Xavier announced. Finally acknowledging his friend's presence.

"As much as it pleases me to hear such news, that is not why I've come here." Wrath clarified, pushing off the discussion to a later date. "The wedding is to be held tomorrow, and as my oldest friend I would appreciate it if you would see to it that evening is of the utmost perfection for my bride”.

"It would be an honour to do so for you, my friend." He said, clapping him on the back "I will get right on it."

He disappeared in the blink of an eye, and down below his students dispersed once they sensed that their teacher was no longer watching. Very few continued on training much to Lord Wrath's pleasure. It was dedication such as this that earned him the respect and title that he has now. He hopes to hear great things about these few now and well into the future.