My Useless Mute Beta Wife Is A Big Shot!

Silas stops in front of me.

Two steps down from the dais. Looking up. The veil catches the dying light—a whisper of white between us, thin as a promise, fragile as everything I’m about to lose.

I don’t move.

My eyes stay on him.

The sundown wraps around us both—golden, warm, almost tender. Like the sun is trying to soften something neither of us knows how to name. Like even the sky feels sorry for us.

Our eyes lock.

And for a moment—just a moment, just a breath, just the space between one heartbeat and the next—the whole world fades.

The guests dissolve into silence. The flowers blur into color without form. The violins wait, bows hovering over strings, holding their breath like everyone else.

Nothing exists but him.

Nothing exists but me.

Nothing exists but the space between two people who never asked to be standing here.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel right now.

I don’t know what I do feel.

I hate him.

Because of him, my family pressed me into this corner. Because of him, I’m standing here in clothes I didn’t choose, saying vows I don’t mean, living a life that was never mine to begin with.

Because he entered without permission. Because he’s a Beta. Because he’s—

Because he’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the world.

Sum’s hand touches my shoulder. Light. Familiar. Grounding.

"Ellis."

I blink.

The world rushes back—loud and bright and suffocating. The guests murmuring. The flowers scent too sweet. The weight of everyone’s eyes pressing down on me like hands.

My father’s gaze burns into the side of my face.

I look around. Everyone’s eyes on us. Waiting. Watching. Wanting.

Especially Dad.

Fury hides behind his practiced smile. His mind screaming loud enough to split my skull open.

{Ellis. What the hell are you doing? Smile. Offer your bride your hand. Stop standing there like a statue before you ruin everything.}

Sum leans closer. His breath warms my ear.

"Good luck."

He squeezes my shoulder once—brief, firm, the kind of squeeze that says I’m here and I’m leaving at the same time. Then he walks away. Down the steps. Into the crowd. Leaving me alone on the dais.

Alone with him.

I look down at Silas.

His eyes stay on me. Patient. Waiting. That soft smile still on his lips—like he has all the time in the world. Like he’s not afraid I’ll say no. Like he already knows what I’ll choose before I choose it.

Does he?

Does he know I have no choice?

I offer my hand.

His smile widens—just a little. Just enough to notice.

He places his hand in mine. Warm. Steady. Familiar in a way that unsettles me.

His fingers close around my palm—gentle. Careful. Like he’s holding something fragile. Something precious.

He steps up onto the dais.

We stand face to face.

Close enough to count his eyelashes. Close enough to see the faint pulse in his throat. Close enough to feel the heat of him.

Everyone watches.

No one breathes.

Their voices drift toward me anyway—soft, sweet, poison wrapped in sugar.

"Ohhh, so cute."

"They look so beautiful together."

"What a great couple."

"Like they were made for each other."

My eyes stay on Silas.

Seriously?

He’s still smiling.

After that day—when I pushed him back in the room, hard enough to make him stumble, hard enough to bruise—he didn’t show any reaction.

No anger. No hurt. No complaint to my father about what I did.

Just... stillness.

Just... warmth in his eyes.

Just... that same soft smile.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

Nothing I can use against him.

The officiant walks forward. Stands between us, then steps aside when he realizes there’s no room for a third body in this small, charged space.

His voice is clear. Practiced. The voice of a man who has done this a thousand times and will do it a thousand more.

"We are gathered here today to witness the union of two lives."

He turns to Silas.

"Silas Stoneheart, do you accept Ellis Roselle as your lawfully wedded husband? To stand by his side, to cherish him, to trust him—in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, for as long as you both shall live?"

Silas’s eyes never leave mine.

Slowly—deliberately, like each movement costs him something—he nods.

Just once.

No words. No sound.

But his hand tightens around mine—just a little. Just enough.

The officiant turns to me.

"Ellis Roselle."

A pause. The weight of the moment settles.

"Do you accept Silas Stoneheart as your lawfully wedded husband? To stand by his side, to cherish him, to trust him—in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, for as long as you both shall live?"

Silence.

I don’t move. Don’t speak. Don’t even breathe.

The world holds its breath with me. Everyone waits. Their eyes heavy on my skin, their hope hanging in the air—thick, unspoken.

Because I don’t want this. Because none of this is what I chose.

My parents stand below the dais.

Dad’s jaw tight. His hands clenched at his sides. Mom’s smile beginning to crack. His eyes lock onto mine—sharp.

Warning.

Almost begging.

His mind screams—

{Ellis. Why are you silent? Answer. Answer now. Answer... or you will regret this for the rest of your life.}

The officiant’s expression shifts. His practiced smile falters—just a crack.

"Ellis...?"

I open my mouth.

My voice comes out flat. Cold. Empty of everything I feel—and full of everything I can’t say.

"I do."

Everyone’s faces light up.

Smiling. Clapping. Cheering.

My parents. The guests. The servants standing in rows with their perfect postures and empty eyes.

Clapping fills the evening—waves of it, crashing against the walls of the mansion, echoing into the darkening sky. The violins swell, bright and triumphant, playing a song that sounds nothing like how I feel.

The sun dips lower.

Casting everything in shades of amber and rose and gold.

Colors of a wedding.

Colors of a wound.

My eyes stay on Silas.

Burning.

You’re going to regret this.