Chapter 1 The Wedding

• Your life never flashed before your eyes. Your heart has never been squeezed so hard that you can hear the sound of its shattered. Freya felt this and many more at that moment. Today was her long-awaited wedding, the wedding of the century; all the historians of the Vermillion pack will scribble down that her wedding was the most splendid, most beautiful, most breathtaking, and most loving union ever, but that wishful thinking was slowly shattering before her red-rimmed eyes.
• How did she get here?
• Only thirty minutes ago, she sat in the bridal room, and her best friend had stood behind her with a smile;
• "The moon goddess indeed blesses you, Frey," Ophelia had whispered, her eyes trained at the mirror.
• "You bet, Philly, you bet." Freya smiled sweetly into the mirror. She was donned in her white dress, dolled up before a mirror. The maidens had just added finishing touches to her bridal beautification, and as if they got the hint, they got the hint and left the two best friends alone in their hearty conversation.
• "I'm going to miss you so much, Frey," Ophelia drew a deep breath as she carefully adjusted the hand of the home.
• "You silly! I'm not leaving the pack; I'm just getting married to Silas.." Freya put her hand over her friend's, which was on her shoulder, in a comforting way.
• "But you shall become Luna, and you will live in the tall pack palace halls, with more of pack members to care for, and to become the mother of the pack, you shall not be free to entertain the frivolities of girly gossip and picking of flowers any more." Ophelia smiled and leaned her jaw on the crook of Freya's neck.
• Freya's eyes softened even more; she looked at both their reflection in the mirror before them, "You know I will never forget you; we will still share our little gossips and definitely pick flowers, I'll show you this garden I discovered after this wedding,"
• "Whatever you say, let's get you married, shall we?"
• Freya laughed heartily.
• There was a knock immediately at the door, followed by a creek. A raven-haired girl shot her head through the door, " Sister, you have to make haste!"
• "Yes, Ciri," Freya smiled at the other girl at the door.
• "Come on, Cirila. Now that you are here help me get our bride to her groom." Ophelia winked at Cirila, who had already walked into the room and toward her sister.
• You wouldn't know they were sisters if you didn't look so closely. Freya had silver and straight hair, and her facial features were ethereal yet kind, upright, and intriguing. Cirila, her younger sister by just a season, had raven black hair she got from their father. She had a coquettish and shy prettiness that contrasted Freya's proud and confident demeanor.
• "Of course," Cirila excitedly took Freya's hand and helped her get to her feet.
• "Sister, you look stunning, you really do," Cirila gushed.
• "Oh stop it, Ciri, you flatter me."
• Fast-forward to the ceremony, the big wedding held under the full moon, at the peak of the season, before every single Man-wolf of the pack. Freya stood at the elevated altar with Silas facing her directly, their hands on each other.
• She was standing in front of the mate of her dreams, not the boy she played with because his mother and her mother were best friends, and they had been together since nappies. She didn't see the boy who helped her pack her head into a bun for the first time or the boy who helped her cover up her nakedness when she had turned into her soul form of a wolf for the first time under the full moon; she saw the man that she could spend her entire life with, the Alpha to her Luna, the father to her children, and most trusted man in her world well except her father.
• She looked at his handsome and breathtaking face, the one she had trailed her fingers through at night, lost in wonder about his perfection, but he seemed tense.
• Was he tense because he was nervous?
• Nervousness is good, and nervousness is romantic; it wasn't just her who was anxious then.
• His jaw seemed to be ticking; he always did that when he was deep in his thoughts.
• He must be thinking of their future together. She didn't know whether to feel proud, since Silas was never nervous, but he was anxious for her.
• The priestess held their hands under the full moon before the entire Vermillion pack, their parents, and their friends; she could see her best friend smiling wistfully at her. Her sister... well, she could not glimpse Cirila; where did she wander to? Anyway, her heart was filled with butterflies, so she held his hands tighter and flashed him a shy smile, but his smile was very forced, tight, and strained.
• Then it hit.
• Something was wrong. She was lovestruck, not shocked, and she knew Silas like the back of her palm. He had a charming smile and the most confident demeanor she had ever seen, yet he wasn't showing any signs of his usual self.
• "Silas," she leaned closer to him, eyes shut, while the priestess said incantations. "Silas, are you good?"
• "Yes," His voice came off rough. Too rough and gruff, making her scrunch her nose invisibly.
• "Mhh." She nodded and leaned away. She'd ask him when the ceremony was over.
• The priestess seized her incantations and sharply opened her eyes, flicking them in Silas' direction. "You may take the oath under the heavens and before the people."
• Butterflies erupted in Freya's stomach. This was the moment of her dreams, the moment she had waited for so long. They would take their vows beneath the moon, under the watchful eyes of Goddess Selena.
• Silence.
• Utter silence.
• Silas stood stoic, his jaw ticking away. Ticking jaws. Silas did that when he was deep in his thoughts and conflicted.
• She rubbed his hands softly against hers; maybe this was too overwhelming for him. Silas was never overwhelmed. She knew him like the back of her palm; he was Decisive, bold, calm, and kind. He was a walking box of overflowing confidence.
• They had figured that they were mates three years ago when she had just turned eighteen, and Silas had been so happy. Their bond had been so strong, and this was only to cement their relationship and make it easy for him to ascend the throne as Alpha instead of leading as an Alpha Prince.
• The silence was so threatening that even the pack members began to whisper. Freya could see their unsettled frenzy element. They had started to whisper among themselves. A great trepidation crawled up her back as she looked expectantly at Silas.
• She was very sure now that there had to be something wrong. She had noticed that Silas had been 'not himself for six nights.' He had been lost in thought and a little bit cranky. He usually told her what went wrong, but he did not open up to her this time, so she felt he would come around.
• But today? What was worrying him must have been so serious that he couldn't concentrate on their wedding. Was he spacing out? Why?
• Was the pack facing strong opposition?
• Where are the members of the council on his neck?
• "I, Silas Creek, Alpha Prince of the Vermillion pack, do reject you, Freya Lancaster, as my mate, I swear this by the breath of the goddess of the moon, our eternal mother and protector, Selena."
• Finally, he did speak.
• What? How? Impossible!
• Freya finally registered his words; at the drop of his oath, there was a loud clap of thunder across the sky and a wild eruption of noise among the crowd. It was utter chaos.
• "You..." Her voice trailed as pain punched heavily on her gut. Her hands slipped away from his, and she staggered back, clutching her chest. Her ears were bleeding, her nose and her eyes poured painful streaks of blood down her face. Her chest felt like a thousand daggers had stabbed it. She immediately clutched her chest.
• "I'm sorry, Freya, I love you, but I have an heir already. Cirila is pregnant with our child."
• Freya fell that instant. Dumbstruck! Cirila? This must have been a joke, but finally, she knew her mate was losing it.
• "What's this joke, Silas?" Her voice came out like a whisper, too shaky and scared. "And don't you dare bring in my sister!"
• The audacity. He could play a prank on her, but bringing her sister into it was a sick joke she wouldn't tolerate. She was protective of her sister, whom he knew so well.
• "Silas, stop!" A meek and shy voice that Freya could identify, even if she was deaf, spoke loudly at the arena.
• Freya turned slowly to the girl running up to the altar of matrimony.
• Cirila!