Bound to the Daddy (Knotted for Life)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

STEPHANIE

The dress is simply gorgeous. I stare at my reflection, looking for any flaws, but find none. The quality seems to be top-notch too. Definitely more than I could afford by myself.

Glancing down at the ring I picked out for my soon-to-be husband, I resist the urge to chew on my thumbnail. Not that there’s much left to chew on. I probably should have asked for acrylics, so everything looked polished and put together. As it is, I think this is the best I can do.

Off to the side, a woman walks in, her steps brusque and abrupt. Each clack of her heels against the tiled floor pounds against my skull, bringing up that hint of nausea. My pill shouldn’t be wearing off this quickly. Squeezing my eyes shut for a moment, I concentrate on my breathing.

Unfortunately, the only thing popping up in my mind is Mr. Rothsbourne. I should be thinking of Brody. Instead, all I can do is mourn the loss of the man I never had, could never have. It’s a sick insanity; one he kept stoking with all his spankings and such.

But then, it was probably just another day for him. At least he didn’t make me pay. There’s a small mercy there.

Besides, there’s no way he can know just how utterly devastating his touch is. How my mind fractures at just the smallest hint of a purr. How my body burns as if it’s on fire from just one fierce frown. Even now, heat climbs up my face and down my neck, traveling the length of my body until my clit pulses.

I ache. I need. I so desperately want relief from these sensations tormenting me.

“Miss Taylor?” The voice calls out to me, muffled, as if underwater.

“Miss Taylor?” It goes higher in pitch, almost frantic.

“Miss Taylor!” A hand grabs my shoulder, shattering the thoughts in my mind like a mirror fractured against hot pavement.

I blink over at the stranger, my vision swimming for a moment until her face clears. “I’m sorry. I think I kinda spaced out.”

“But you’re okay? Do you need water? Do you think you’re going to faint?”

“I don’t know how I feel, to be honest. How am I supposed to feel right now? How do the other brides feel?” The strangers gather in on me, their expression varying from slight concern to outright pity.

“It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. It happens! Just breathe through all the emotions and you’ll do fine. I’m sure your Alpha will be such an amazing man for you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

She holds out a box, her lips widening into a large grin. “This was delivered for you by him.”

A gasp catches in my throat as I take the gift from her. “But he doesn’t know who I am. Right?”

“He does not. From my understanding, he bought this as a gesture of goodwill. Something to ease the meeting between the two of you. It also came with this card.” My fingers tremble as I take the letter from her.

My Dearest Bride to Be,

It is my hope that this token of my affection will be the first of many I can bestow upon you. I know things are scary for you right now. You have no idea who you’re meeting at the end of the aisle, and that can be rather frightening. Trust the process and breathe for me. If we are a genetic match, then there’s no way we’re not going to be compatible. I cannot wait to turn around and see you standing there in your bridal finery. But I’m sure all of it will pale in comparison to your beauty.

Please wear this bracelet as your something new. As an added bonus, it has lots of things to fiddle with on there in case you need to expend your nerves before meeting me. Underneath the lining, I’ve included something of mine that I’m letting you borrow. After the ceremony, I’ll be asking for it back. I’m sure you already have the old and blue already well in hand. I can’t wait to start the first day of forever with you. I can only hope your excitement is as great as mine.

Yours Forever

There’s no signature, but then, that doesn’t surprise me. Everything they do is so cloak and dagger. It doesn’t make any sense. For people without anxiety, I’m sure this is a titillating affair, filled with wonder, surprise, and merriment. All it does is make me sick.

At least the guy doesn’t seem all that reprehensible. But it does make me think it’s not Brody. I can count on one hand the times he’s bought me something, and they were never anything as fancy as jewelry. Cracking open the box, I gasp at the beautiful bracelet lying nestled in the box.

When he said it had things to fiddle with, I assumed it would be chunky and garish. But it’s not. Loops of silver line the satin, each with diamond encrusted little balls that roll around with the simplest touch. Beautiful and functional. Definitely not something Brody would come up with.

All it does is make the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Who then am I meeting at the end of the aisle? It must be someone rich in order to gift me such a fine piece of jewelry. The ladies around me all ooh and aww over the piece, making a great show of fanning themselves and saying what they would do with such a man.

Most murmur about what a nice man he must be, but the majority of the conversation devolves into ribald jokes and scandalous musings. If it were my friends, I suppose I’d join in, but I don’t know these women. I can’t just joke about such things with strangers.

I smile as prettily as I can while the assistant puts the bracelet on me, but inside, I’m dying. I was all set to marry Brody. I finally got my mind around to the idea and settled myself with the knowledge that I at least know the guy. Now what can I do?

Once the bracelet is on my wrist, she admires it on me for a moment before reaching out for the box. Apparently, she didn’t read the letter. At least my intended and I have a somewhat private thing to share between us.

“I’d like to hold on to it for a little longer, if that’s okay.”

“Certainly. Ceremony starts in fifteen minutes. We’ll want to give you a final look over before we head out.”

The women scuttle about, looking for things to do. Thankfully, it allows me a small moment of peace to scour the box to find my something borrowed. My something old and blue is a set of sapphire earrings my father gave my mother when they got married. Everything else is new, leaving me lacking in the borrowed department.

Now, thanks to this stranger’s forethought, I have all the lucky items I need to start a good marriage. While the others continue fluttering around the room, making sure everything is accounted for, I pull on the satin to reveal another bit of cloth. How very odd.

It’s white and lacy. Perhaps it’s a pocket square? I could wrap it around the bouquet waiting for me. But as I pull it, my gut clenches. It’s a thong. A snow-white, virginal, lacy thong. A quick peek at the tag shows that it’s in my size. But how would he know?

Could it actually be Brody then? But there’s no way he could know there was a chance I’d be marrying him. Rushing over to where I stored my things, I pull out my phone.

Stephanie

Hey.

Brody

The person you are trying to reach has blocked this number. If you feel as if this is in error, please have them contact a servicing station for a systems scan.

The phone nearly drops from my hands as I force myself to read the message again. No matter how many times I read it, it doesn’t change. He doesn’t know. There’s no way he could know. I didn’t tell anyone else.

My vision wavers as I slam my palms against the wall to keep from falling down. The assistant rushes over and holds me up, her frantic words refusing to reach my ears. I hear her speaking, but it doesn’t make sense.

This person is an unknown, and yet they know my size. Or is it a coincidence? Did he want me to wrap them around my bouquet? But there’s no way in hell I’m doing that.

What if he’s a psychopath? Someone who’s been stalking me? But that doesn’t make sense either. No one knew I was getting married today. What if he’s a wretched person?

What if?—

What if?—

What if?—

My fingers clench as I fight back the urge to find something, anything, to cut myself with. It wouldn’t be my tools, but the pain would feel the same. No. No, I can’t. Not with so many people around. Besides, my dress is white. Blood will show.

“How much trouble would I get into if I ran?” They’re the first coherent words that come to my brain.

All the women titter, their light laughs scoring down my body like jagged nails. There’s a hint of relief in the sound, as if they were so very worried. Then again, most brides probably have cold feet. Mine happen to be icicles.

“You’re too funny,” the assistant finally laughs. “Why would you run? The man is clearly nice and rich. You could do a whole lot worse, and many omegas have.”

The room descends into silence as everyone goes back to what they were doing. Forcing my lungs to take in as much as air possible, I shove the thong into my bustier. No way in hell I’m putting that on. If he wants me to wear it, he’ll tell me to my face.

I glance up at the row of mirrors, watching the women work. They seem so easy with each other, so carefree. One makes a joke, and the other laughs. Even though they’re all at work together, they still all have each other.

No one else is here with me. Aren’t there supposed to be friends nearby to help shore me up and stand by me at the altar? But then, it’s not as if I have any friends. Not really. Not like them.

If only Mom were here.

Tears burn my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. My makeup is pristine, and I don’t want to mess it up. But that’s not the real reason, and I know it. I don’t want this man seeing me as a mess the first time we meet. There will be plenty of time afterward for him to discover my neurosis.

“Five minutes until it’s time to leave. Let me take a look at you.” The main assistant comes forward and fusses with my dress and hair before giving me a bright smile. “You’re such a beautiful bride. May you find happiness and contentment in your match.”

I do my best to give her a smile, but even to me, it feels forced, almost like a grimace.

“I know you’re scared, but please don’t worry. It’s very rare a match turns bad.”

“Rare,” I croak out. “But it’s possible.”

“Yes, it’s possible, but if the man is truly abhorrent, the Governing Body can free you from the match.”

“That is, unless he kills me first.”

She laughs so hard her body shakes. “So dramatic. You will never be matched with someone like that. Now come. It’s time.”

Dramatic. Sure. I’m about to marry a complete stranger, and I’m the one being dramatic. Reaching down to my bracelet, I fiddle with a few of the baubles. At least he was kind enough to consider that I might be feeling anxious.

Just touching it makes my heart slow down a touch. Perhaps he’s a good guy, after all? Grabbing my bouquet, I double check that the ring still dangles from the ribbon wrapped around it.

Though I’m not sure exactly what I expected, I thought the chapel would be right off of the room I was in. Instead, I have to traverse a myriad of hallways until stopping in front of a thick door. My heart pounds so hard in my chest, I’m surprised no one else hears it.

The women give me their well wishes and walk away, leaving me alone. I shouldn’t be alone. Why is no one here with me?

The door opens, allowing a faint strain of some classical piece to reach my ears. Can I run? Should I try? The man at the door seems nice enough. Maybe he’ll give me a head start.

Shaking my head, I fiddle with the bracelet, allowing the texture of the diamonds to calm my brain. Just one foot in front of the other. That’s it. I can do that. Can I?

I move my foot. Yes. I can do it. Can I do another? Another step. Soon, each one comes quicker and far smoother. It’s as if my brain knows the answers to all my questions are at the end of the aisle, and my body wants them so it can calm down.

With each step closer, a familiar scent teases my nose. But I can’t completely place it. It’s spicy and heady, causing my core to ache and my nipples harden. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s Mr. Rothsbourne. But then, the cologne is all wrong.

It’s certainly not Brody. His scent was never so potent. If the man is rich, maybe Mr. Rothsbourne is here as a friend or ally? He did say he was occupied for most of the afternoon. Honestly, that makes the most sense. It also allows me to calm down just a fraction.

If this man is good enough for Mr. Rothsbourne to stand by, then he can’t be all that bad. Holding that thought in my head, I make it to the end of the hall where another large Alpha stops me. The music changes, shifting to the bridal march.

It’s now or never.

Taking a deep breath, I walk around the corner. The right side of the room is filled with men and women, all of them beaming at me with happiness and possibly love. They’re so packed that I can’t see Mr. Rothsbourne. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

On the left side, only one person stands in the pews. My old boss. She doesn’t look unhappy, exactly, but she also doesn’t look thrilled. And that’s when I force my gaze to the front.

A man stands at the altar, his back turned to me. He’s massive, an Alpha of great stature. Certainly not Brody. It was always a point of contention for him. He detested being an Alpha, yet having the breadth of a large beta.

No. Whoever is up there is all Alpha.

My steps falter as I propel myself forward. The people to the right of me gasp and sigh, their demeanor seemingly thrilled with me. It shores me up, giving me the courage to keep walking. Just a few more steps and I’ll be at the base of the stairs.

I stop, staring at the massive back of the man waiting for me. Will he be kind? Will he be gentle? Will he be-

“You may turn around and face your bride.”

He turns. The man turns to me. Ever so slowly. But soon, I know exactly who’s waiting for me at the top of the aisle. The flowers drop from my hand and scatter on the floor, flopping against my feet as Rex Rothsbourne turns all the way around, his lips quirked into a knowing grin.

“Rex Rothsbourne, I’d like to introduce you to your bride. Stephanie Taylor.”