Chapter 1

• Rosalina's POV
• The air in the cathedral is thick, smelling of expensive lilies and the stifling heat of too many bodies. I stand at the altar, the lace of my veil feeling like a shroud against my skin. I look out at the crowd, and for a moment, I feel like a specimen under a microscope. The pews are overflowing; guests are packed against the stone walls like sardines in a tin can.
• ​The silence of the room is deceptive. Underneath the organ’s soft hum, the whispers crawl toward me like insects.
• ​"Is the Alpha really not going to show up?"
• ​"Did he finally realize he can have far better prospects than a lowly orphan?"
• ​"Maybe his senses finally returned. It's not too late to call the whole thing off."
• ​Each word is like a needle prick. My fingers tremble against my bouquet, the stems digging into my palms. My heart is fluttering like a frantic bird trapped in my ribs.
• .I’ve waited five years for this. From college sweethearts to this moment, I know him very well… so well that–
• ​”Pssst. Rose…!”
• ​I turn my head slightly. Tracy, my best friend and maid of honor, is leaning in. She has a standard poker-face on, but her eyes are darting toward the clock on the wall.
• ​"I don't mean to give you more stress," she whispers, her voice urgent. "But maybe it's time to call Jordan and ask where he is."
• ​"I know he'll come," I say, though my voice sounds brittle, even to my own ears.
• ​"Of course," Tracy says, hesitating before she adds further.
• "But Rose, it’s an hour past the designated start time. The guests, the journalists, the entire pack—everyone is waiting for their Alpha. I’m not saying you shouldn't trust him, but at least ask for an update. What if he’s stuck in an emergency? What if he’s hurt?"
• ​The word hurt sends a jolt of pure ice through my veins. My mind conjures images of a car wreck, a rogue attack, Jordan lying bleeding somewhere while I stand here worrying about my pride.
• ​"Okay," I breathe, my chest heaving. "Give me my phone."
• ​Tracy slips it into my hand. My fingers are shaking so violently I can barely swipe the screen. In my blind panic, my thumb slips. I don't hit the voice call; I hit the icon for a video call.
• ​I gasp and try to fumble for the red button to cancel it, but before I can, the line clicks open.
• ​The image that fills the screen freezes the blood in my heart.
• ​Jordan is lying against a navy blue velvet headboard, his chest bare and glowing faintly in the dim light of a hotel room. His hair, usually so meticulously styled, is a bird’s nest of tangles. My breath hitches as I see the dark, purplish love bites blooming across his neck like bruises.
• ​His grey eyes are half-lidded, heavy with a lazy, post-coital haze. But the true dagger is the crown of platinum blonde hair resting familiarly on his chest.
• ​I am frozen. The cathedral, the hundreds of people, the cameras—everything vanishes. There is only the glowing rectangle in my hand. A soft, weak yelp escapes my lips, more of a dying sigh than a sound.
• ​"Jo... Jordan..." I whisper, my voice cracking. "What the hell? Where are you?"
• ​He doesn't even startle. He just sighs, an irritated, guttural sound. "I'm busy, Rena. Why do you keep calling?"
• ​I feel like I've been slapped. "What do you mean? Jordan, the mating ceremony... it's today. I’m at the altar. Everyone is here."
• ​"And so what?" he snaps, his tone dripping with a callousness I’ve never heard before. "We can do that some other day. Why do you have to make such a fuss about it? It’s just a five-minute job."
• ​A five-minute job. My life’s dream. Our union as Alpha and Luna. A five-minute job.
• ​Before I can find the breath to scream, the blonde head on his chest stirs. A woman lifts her face, blinking slowly as if waking from a beautiful dream.
• ​"Mmm... Jordy..." she murmurs, her voice a sweet, honeyed trill. "Who is it? Why did you pick up? It was such a sweet sleep... I didn't want to wake up yet."
• My world turns to ash. It's not a stranger… it's Minerva, the Beta's daughter whom Jordan’s family has unofficially adopted.
• The girl who moved abroad years ago and was staying there until she was summoned by the Alpha— or at least, was supposed to be, according to what I knew till yesterday.
• ​Jordan’s irritation vanishes, replaced by a warm affection.
• He looks down at her, stroking her hair tenderly. "I’m sorry, Minnie. I won't disturb you anymore. Go back to sleep, you must be so tired."
• ​I am shaking so hard the phone is a blur. The wrenching pain in my chest feels like my soul is being physically torn out of my body.
• ​Suddenly, the world rushes back in. Tracy grabs my shoulder, shaking me hard. "Rose! Rose, listen to me!"
• ​The whispers in the cathedral have turned into a roar of snickers and gasps. I realize with a sickening jolt that because this ceremony was being broadcast live to the pack and neighboring territories, the audio—and the image—just went out over the speakers.
• ​"Cut the call!" Tracy hisses. "Or put me on with that bastard!"
• ​"No... Tracy, you don't understand..." I stammer, my mind fracturing.
• ​Tracy looks at me, her eyes full of a pity that hurts worse than the insults. She snatches the phone from my hand and ends the call. "Rose, there is nothing left to understand. He left you at the altar for her. And the whole world just saw it."
• ​The insults are no longer whispers. They are shouts.
• ​"Was that the Beta’s daughter? Even the back of her head is prettier than this 'bride'."
• ​"Who’s even calling her a bride? What’s a bride without a groom?"
• ​"Look at her standing there... pathetic."
• ​Ronan, Jordan’s Beta, rushes toward the altar, his face pale. "Luna, please. Don't misunderstand. Let me go look for the Alpha. It's a mistake... a misunderstanding..."
• ​"There is nothing to misunderstand, Ronan," I say. My voice is suddenly calm. The panic has reached its peak and shattered into a cold, hard diamond of clarity. "Everything is crystal clear."
• ​"Luna, actually, Miss. Minerva has just returned–”
• ​I hear a guest nearby whispering loudly to another. "I saw the screen on the projector before she turned. That's the Royal Oak Hotel suite. I recognize that navy headboard."
• ​The Royal Oak.
• ​The humiliation is a physical weight, but it fuels the fire in my marrow. I turn to the sea of faces, the journalists with their flashing cameras, the pack members who always looked down on me.
• ​"Everyone," I say, my voice carrying through the cathedral. "Thank you for showing up. But as you have seen for yourselves, this wedding is called off."
• "Luna, you can't make an announcement without the Alpha's approval—"
• I turn on him, and the icy glare I give him makes him take a step back. I turn and begin to walk down the aisle, my white train trailing behind me like a dead weight.
• ​Tracy catches my arm, her eyes wide. "Wait! Rose, where are you going?"
• ​I look at her, my gaze numb. "I'm going to the Royal Oak."