RUBY
The look on Roman's face as he stared at Seraphina felt like a dagger twisting in my chest. I stood frozen in my wedding gown, forgotten by the man who was supposed to be minutes away from becoming my husband.
"They were practically engaged," Marcus continued, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "Roman was shopping for rings when you showed up."
My fingers tightened around my bouquet until I heard the delicate stems crack. The white roses suddenly felt like a mockery—pure, innocent, nothing like the mess unfolding before me.
"You're lying," I whispered, but the doubt had already crept in.
Marcus smirked. "Ask him yourself."
I took a shaky breath and stepped forward, my wedding dress rustling around me. The photographer's camera continued to click, documenting every painful second of what should have been our perfect First Look.
"Roman," I called, my voice steadier than I expected.
He turned, and for a moment, something like guilt flashed across his face. Then his expression softened, and he crossed the space between us in three long strides.
"Ruby," he said, taking my hands in his. "You look beautiful."
"Is it true?" The words tumbled from my lips before I could stop them. "Were you going to propose to her? Before me?"
The room fell silent. Even the photographer lowered his camera.
Roman's jaw tightened. I could see the conflict in his golden-brown eyes—the desire to protect me battling with his innate inability to lie.
"That was before," he finally said, his voice tight. "Before I met you. Before I knew about our bond."
The confirmation hit me like a physical blow. I pulled my hands from his grasp and took a step back.
"So if I hadn't come along—if fate hadn't forced your hand—you would be marrying her today?" I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.
Roman's silence was answer enough.
Across the room, Seraphina's lips curved into a triumphant smile.
"Ruby," Roman started, reaching for me again. "It doesn't matter what might have been. What matters is now. Us. Our bond."
"Our bond," I repeated. The sacred connection that had brought us together—the one thing I had clung to whenever I felt like an outsider in this pack. Now it felt more like a chain than a blessing.
Whispers rippled through the gathered pack members. I could feel their judgment, their unspoken belief that I was just a rogue girl who had stolen their Alpha from his rightful mate.
"I need a minute," I said, turning away from Roman. I headed back toward the bridal suite, desperate for a moment alone to gather my thoughts.
Behind me, I heard Annelise's voice, syrupy sweet: "Poor thing. She had no idea, did she?"
I quickened my pace, blinking back tears. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
Roman caught up to me in the hallway, his hand gentle on my elbow. "Ruby, wait."
I stopped but didn't turn to face him.
"Look at me," he said softly.
I steeled myself and met his gaze. His expression was earnest, his eyes pleading.
"Yes, Seraphina and I had history. I won't deny that," he said. "But from the moment I found you at the border of our territory, nothing else has mattered. You are my mate—chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. That means something to me."
"But you loved her," I whispered.
Roman hesitated for a beat too long. "I thought I did. But what I feel for you—"
"Is obligation," I finished for him. "Duty to the bond."
"No." His voice grew firmer. "It's more than that, and you know it."
He pulled me closer, his forehead touching mine. The familiar scent of him—pine and leather and something uniquely Roman—enveloped me, and my treacherous wolf responded, yearning to trust him.
"I choose you, Ruby," he murmured. "Bond or no bond, I choose you."
For a moment, I let myself believe him. I let the warmth of his words chase away the chill of doubt.
"Now," he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face, "let's go back out there and show everyone what real mates look like."
I nodded, my resolve strengthening. He was right. I was his mate—his Luna. I wouldn't let Seraphina or anyone else make me doubt that.
We walked back to the ceremony space together, his hand at the small of my back. The crowd had thinned somewhat, but Seraphina remained, holding court with Marcus and Annelise.
"I'm going to speak with the officiant," Roman said. "Will you be alright?"
"Of course," I replied with more confidence than I felt. "I'll be right here."
As soon as Roman disappeared through a side door, I felt exposed. But I kept my head high, determined not to show weakness. I walked back toward the bridal suite to touch up my makeup.
When I opened the door, I was greeted by the sight of Seraphina standing in the middle of the room, examining my veil where it lay carefully arranged on a settee.
"What are you doing in here?" I asked, my voice sharp.
She turned slowly, unsurprised by my entrance. "Just admiring your things. You've done well for yourself, haven't you? A rogue girl with no past, no family, no standing—and yet here you are, about to become Luna of one of the most powerful packs in the region."
"I'm his fated mate," I said simply.
Seraphina laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Do you really think that matters? Fated mates are a dime a dozen. What lasts is history, loyalty, understanding." She stepped closer. "Roman and I have six years together. How long have you known him? Six months?"
I refused to back away from her. "Quality over quantity."
Her eyes narrowed. "You need to leave," she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Walk away now, while you still can."
"Is that a threat?" I asked, standing my ground.
"It's advice," she replied. "You don't belong here. Everyone knows it. You're just a gold-digging rogue who got lucky."
The accusation stung, but I wouldn't let her see that. "If I don't belong here, why am I the one wearing the Luna's ceremonial necklace?" I touched the silver pendant at my throat—an heirloom passed down through generations of Luna.
Something dark flashed in her eyes. In one swift motion, she crossed to the vanity where a pair of scissors lay among the cosmetics and hair accessories.
My heart began to race, but I held my position. "Put those down, Seraphina."
Instead, she gripped them tighter. "This should have been my day," she hissed. "My wedding. My pack."
"But it's not," I said firmly. "And throwing a tantrum won't change that."
Her face contorted with rage. For a terrifying moment, I thought she might actually attack me. But then, to my shock, she turned the scissors on herself.
With one vicious motion, she slashed at her own gown, tearing a jagged line across the bodice.
"What are you—" I started to say, but she wasn't finished.
She ripped at her hair, messing the perfect style. Then she threw the scissors with shocking force. They clattered to the floor between us.
"Seraphina, stop this!" I moved toward her, genuinely concerned despite everything.
But she was already backing toward the door, her eyes wild. "You'll regret this day," she whispered, then turned and flung herself into the hallway.
I rushed after her, but it was too late. She stumbled dramatically into the main hall where guests had begun to gather for the ceremony. Her white gown was torn, her hair disheveled.
And then she let out a piercing scream.
All eyes turned to her, then to me standing in the doorway. I realized with horror how it looked—me, unharmed, and Seraphina, appearing as though she had been attacked. The scissors lay behind me in the bridal suite, but everyone had heard them clatter to the floor.
As the crowd's shocked murmurs grew louder, Seraphina collapsed into Marcus's waiting arms, her performance perfect.
"She attacked me," she sobbed, pointing a trembling finger at me. "The rogue attacked me!"
And just like that, my perfect day shattered into a thousand pieces.