The emerald silk of my gown whispered against my skin, a stark contrast to the cold dread coiling in my stomach. Derick's large, calloused hand was warm against mine, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles on my knuckles.
"Cassy," Derick's voice was a low rumble, laced with a concern that tugged at my already frayed nerves. "You can tell me anything," I met his gaze and sighed. I couldn't hold it anymore. I had to let him know. I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that he would do anything to protect me. And that was precisely what terrified me the most.
"Derick," I whispered, the word catching in my throat. I shifted on his lap, my legs still a tentative anchor on either side of his. "There are... things you don't know. Things about my life since Alpha David became my stepfather." His hand tightened around mine, a gentle pressure that did little to soothe the turmoil inside. The memory, a gaping wound, stole my breath, leaving me trembling. "Alpha David... he murdered my father."
Derick's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking with a ferocity I rarely saw. "He marked my mother over my own father's body," he growled, his voice thick with an anguish that mirrored my own. A strangled sob clawed its way up my throat, a phantom pain in my chest. That scene, etched into my mind, refused to fade, a persistent, agonizing ghost. "There wasn't anything she could do," I choked out, the helplessness a bitter, familiar taste.
"When he moved my mother any I into his home I met Josh, Alpha David's son from his first mate. And I thought… I thought Josh was different." My voice cracked. "He was my older brother, by marriage. I looked up to him. I trusted him."
I paused, gathering the courage to voice the nightmare that had become my reality. "But that trust… it curdled. Josh became… obsessed." The word felt inadequate, like trying to capture a hurricane in a teacup. "His protectiveness twisted into something possessive, controlling. And then… it turned violent."
Derick's breath hitched, and I felt a tremor run through him. He pulled me closer, his arms tightening around my waist as if to shield me from the invisible specters of my past. "Obsessed?" he murmured, his voice strained. "How?" The single word was loaded with a thousand unspoken questions, each one a tiny shard of glass against my already raw heart. I swallowed, forcing myself to continue, to lay bare the rot that had festered in that gilded cage.
"He started by isolating me," I choked out, the memory of Josh's possessive gaze, the way he'd scrutinized every interaction, every smile I'd shared with someone else, returning with sickening clarity. "He'd sabotage my friendships, spread rumors, made sure I had no one but him. Then he would… he would hurt me. Not just physically, though there was that too, but he'd twist my words, gaslight me, make me doubt my own sanity. He made me believe I was the one at fault, that his violence was a consequence of my own perceived misbehavior." My voice trembled on the last word, the shame a heavy cloak I'd worn for too long.
Derick remained silent for a long moment, his grip on me the only tangible proof of his presence, of his understanding. The truth, once spoken, felt like a torrent, threatening to drown us both. I knew this confession had changed everything, not just for me, but for him, for our fragile hope of a future. And the fear, that cold, gnawing dread, only intensified.
"And now…" My voice trembled. "Now, there's you. And I'm… I'm marked by you, Derick." The weight of my words seemed to press down on us, silencing the distant revelry. I could feel his gaze on me, intense and searching. "Derick. I'm so afraid of what he'll do. And…" My gaze flickered to his, a desperate plea in my eyes.
"I'm afraid for you. He's unpredictable, Derick. And he's dangerous. More dangerous than you can imagine." The silence stretched, broken only by the rhythmic beat of my own heart, thrumming a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Derick's eyes, usually so calm and steady, now held a flicker of something I hadn't seen before – a predatory glint, a low, dangerous growl held captive behind his teeth. He wasn't just the crown prince. He was an Alpha Werewolf. But that didn't lessen the terror that clawed at me. Because I was still afraid for the man I was falling in love with, caught in the crosshairs of a broken obsession.
Derick didn't speak immediately, his gaze unwavering as it swept over my face. I could feel the heat radiating from him, a stark contrast to the icy tendrils of fear still clinging to me. He brought my hand up, pressing a kiss to my knuckles, a gesture so tender it felt like a brand. "Cassy," he murmured, his voice a balm against the raw ache in my soul. "You are marked by me. And that means you are under my protection, always." The words resonated deep within me, a promise that warred with the ingrained terror of Josh's possessiveness. The memory of his hands, his whispers, the suffocating weight of his control, it all threatened to resurface, to drown me in its darkness. But Derick's eyes held a fierce determination that offered a fragile glimmer of hope.
He gently tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Josh's obsession is his failing, Cassy, not yours. What he did to you… that was a violation, and it will not stand. You are not his property. You are not bound by his twisted desires." He brushed a stray tendril from my cheek, his touch feather-light. "You are mine, now, by choice. And if he ever dares to lay a hand on you again, if he so much as breathes your name with ill intent, he will face an Alpha's wrath. He will face me." The possessiveness in his voice wasn't the suffocating kind I'd known, but a fierce, protective assertion, a boundary drawn in stone.
Despite his assurances, the phantom grip of Josh's control lingered. "But what if he finds a way, Derick?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "He's… he's always been one step ahead. And the things he's done… they've left scars that go deeper than anyone can see. I'm still afraid of what he might do, of how he might try to hurt me again." I confessed.
Derick held my face in between his hands and forced me to look into this eyes, the color of a stormy sea, held a fierce possessiveness that was the antithesis of Josh's suffocating grip. This was a protector's claim, an Alpha's solemn vow. "You are mine, Cassy," he stated, not as a demand, but as a truth as fundamental as the moon in the sky. "And I will burn the world down to keep you safe. Josh will learn that the darkness he thrives in cannot touch the light that you are, not when I stand guard." The conviction in his voice was a powerful anchor, slowly pulling me from the depths of my fear.
I clung to Derick's words, letting them wash over the raw places Josh had carved. "Burn the world down..." The thought was both terrifying and intoxicating. He spoke of Josh's "one-step-ahead" tactics not as insurmountable obstacles, but as mere challenges to be overcome, hurdles that, with him beside me, would be cleared. Derick was an Alpha, a prince, and he wasn't about to let some deranged, overgrown stepbrother dictate my life. I felt a flicker of… dare I say it?… amusement. Josh, reduced to a mere "hurdle." It was almost funny. Almost.
I wanted to say more, to delve deeper into the twisted games Josh played. I wanted to explain the fear that still clung to me, a phantom chill that no amount of Derick's warmth could entirely banish. But as I opened my mouth, a traitorous rumble echoed from my stomach, cutting off my words in a wave of mortification. My cheeks flushed, the already fragile courage I'd mustered dissipating like mist in the sun. Josh's control had been suffocating, but this, this was just embarrassing.
Derick's lips curved into a slight smile, a flicker of understanding in his stormy eyes. Without a word, he gently shifted me on his lap, turning me so I was seated facing the table. He gestured to the plate of food before me. "Eat, Cassy," he said, his voice soft but firm. "You need your strength." He picked up my fork and offered me a piece of bread, his gaze never leaving mine. It was a simple act, yet it felt profoundly grounding, a silent acknowledgment that even amidst the revelations of my past, my present needs mattered.
A little later, Matt reappeared, a garment bag slung over his shoulder, accompanied by a woman with a kind smile and a professional demeanor. "Got the dress, Cassy," Matt announced, his red hair catching the light. "And Anya here will help you get ready." He winked, a playful glint in his hazel eyes. Anya, the assistant, stepped forward, offering me a reassuring smile. I took a deep breath, the weight of the dress and the impending task of getting dressed a new kind of pressure. I glanced at Derick, who gave me a subtle nod, his thumb still absentmindedly tracing circles on my knuckles. He was a constant, a steady presence in the whirlwind of my life, and for now, that was enough.