Chapter 2

Without waiting for a response from me, they led the way to the small hall where Derek was waiting. I followed, keeping my shoulders back and my steps measured. Inside, my stomach twisted with unease.

The ceremony space had been transformed for the occasion, every surface throughout the building draped in white and silver. There were flowers woven into every available space, candles flickering along the edges of the room.

I had expected the room to be mostly empty but for the photographer and my groom—the wedding ceremony itself was to be held in the great hall in the back of the building—but the Silverclaw pack had gathered here, their murmurs a low hum as they waited. No doubt they’d been invited by Derek, their Alpha.

“Can you believe no one in the whole Moonstone pack showed up today?” I heard one of them mutter to the werewolf standing next to him.

“Unbelievable,” his friend shook his head. “Did they at least send a gift?”

The first man snorted. “It had better be a nice one,” he said. “The pack can only be in mourning for so long. I don’t care if they lost the Alpha’s daughter. Not showing up today when all of the other packs are represented?”

“An insult,” his friend confirmed.

Almost every pack was here, a testament to Derek's status. Only the Moonstone Pack was absent. Rumor had it they were still mourning their daughter, lost and very likely dead a year ago.

While I think the tragedy deserved a bit more sympathy, their absence clearly did not sit well with our pack. After all, the Moonstone Pack had been enemies with Silverclaw for generations.

I cleared my throat and they both looked at me in surprise, moving out of the way so that I could walk into the room.

This was my moment, I thought, and took a deep breath.

But all eyes were on Cassandra.

She moved easily through the crowd, surrounded by people that looked at her with comfortable familiarity. They smiled, laughed, welcomed her as if she were the bride, as if she were the Luna. The ease with which they accepted her presence made me wonder if there was more to her.

Then Derek walked in.

Even through the haze of my frustration and unease, my breath caught. He was devastatingly handsome in his black suit, his dark hair with that silver streak above his right eye falling onto his forehead just-so.

I heard the click and whirl of the photographer snapping pictures.

The stoic, stern look on Derek’s face softened for a fraction of a second when he spotted me. His lips parted slightly, and something flickered in his gaze—hunger, recognition.

Desire.

I felt it, too. The pull. The bond.

It had been there since that fateful day when we’d met. When he’d found me on the border of his pack’s lands—a rogue werewolf with no memory.

A warmth spread through my chest, a reminder of the connection between us. My mate. Chosen by the Moon Goddess herself.

But then Cassandra stepped forward.

Derek’s expression changed, his posture stiffening as he registered her presence. His gaze swept over her gown, something unreadable crossing his face.

Surprise. Maybe uncertainty. And something else, something softer.

I clenched my hands around the bouquet of flowers held tightly in my grip.

“Derek,” Cassandra purred, stepping toward him, friendly and familiar. “It’s been a long time.”

Derek turned to his friend and spoke to her, words even my superior Were-hearing couldn’t make out.

From my elbow came a voice. Joe’s.

“I always thought this would be their wedding,” he said. I turned to look at him and his gaze was resting on Derek and Cassandra. “They vowed, a long time ago, to only mark each other.”

I stiffened.