Chapter 179
Ellie POV
“No.”
I shake my head.
“I’m not.”
Sarah pauses.
“Not after being given a second chance, people would do anything for.”
My fingers smooth over the lace covering my thighs.
“Not after somehow ruining it and ending up right back in this chair.”
I look at myself in the mirror.
At the dress.
The veil.
The woman stared back at me.
“Wanting more is how you lose everything.”
For a moment, Sarah says nothing.
Then she laughs softly.
“Wow.”
I glance at her.
“That’s a very pessimistic thing to say for a bride who’s about to walk down the aisle.”
“Or realistic.”
She shakes her head, but she’s smiling.
Then she squeezes my shoulders.
“Ellie.”
Her voice softens.
“You need to learn to give things a second chance.”
I freeze.
The words hit harder than they should.
“You’re strong.”
She looks at me through the mirror.
“You survived things worse than a ceremony and a kiss.”
A grin slowly appears.
“I promise good things are coming.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Like?”
“Like your husband.”
She dramatically sighs.
“Who, by the way, is a complete smoke show.”
“Sarah.”
“What? I have eyes.”
Before I can argue, a knock sounds against the door.
“Time,” someone calls gently.
Sarah immediately steps back.
Her smile turns bright.
“Okay.”
She gestures toward me.
“Luna.”
“Don’t.”
She grins wider.
“Fine.”
A pause.
“Bride.”
I roll my eyes.
“Go get that groom and show everyone how beautiful you are.”
I stand slowly.
The dress settles around me.
A wave of lace.
Silk.
Memories.
I turn toward the mirror one last time.
And for a second…
I don’t recognize myself.
I look beautiful.
Not just pretty.
Not just presentable.
Beautiful.
Like something out of a story.
My hair is pinned up with silver and jewels.
A white rose rests near my ear.
The veil falls over my face and trails behind me.
Everything about me looks like I belong here.
Like, this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
I almost smile.
Almost.
Then reality returns.
This is for my mother.
For her freedom.
For her future.
I lift my chin.
I can survive a wedding.
Again.
I just hope…
I can survive what comes after.
Dominic POV
The reception before the ceremony feels less like a celebration…
And more like a battlefield where everyone is wearing expensive suits.
Lately, that’s what this entire wedding has felt like.
Not a beginning.
A negotiation.
Every handshake matters.
Every nod.
Every carefully measured smile.
Every person is silently saying:
I see you.
I remember you.
I know what this alliance means.
I move through the crowd with practiced ease.
My mother stands near the council members, effortlessly managing conversations.
My father remains exactly where he always is.
Still.
Controlled.
A statue carved from expectations.
Pack leaders watch me carefully.
Measuring.
Judging.
Waiting to see whether I look ready.
Whether I look stable.
Whether I look like an Alpha.
I do.
At least on the outside.
Inside, I’m counting minutes.
“Do you believe the northern trade routes are still in capable hands with the Narvarians?”
An older council member steps toward me.
Sir Brimel.
I stop.
“Of course,” I answer smoothly.
“The routes have been protected by that family for decades. Their loyalty has never been questioned.”
“Loyalty.”
He repeats the word thoughtfully.
Then smiles.
“You’ll be an interesting Alpha to watch rise, my boy.”
I hold my expression.
Nod politely.
They aren’t wrong to question.
I don’t mind proving myself.
Then—
The main doors open.
The room shifts.
Everyone turns.
The bride is not supposed to arrive yet.
The music hasn’t started.
Confusion spreads.
Then I see her.
Vivian.
She walks through the doors holding a white rose.
Perfect posture.
Perfect smile.
Perfect blonde curls.
She looks like she stepped out of a painting.
Normally, that would not be an issue.
Except for one very important detail.
Her dress.
It isn’t white.
Technically.
Not exactly.
But it’s dangerously close.
Eggshell.
Champagne.
Whatever carefully chosen word people use when they want to avoid saying something is inappropriate.
My eyes narrow.
The orchestra conductor immediately moves to begin the bride’s entrance music.
I reach out and place a hand on his shoulder.
Stopping him.
A small shake of my head.
Not yet.
Not her.
Sir Brimel glances behind me.
Then smiles.
“Ah.”
He nods.
“An early arrival.”
His eyes move over Vivian.
“Your bride is stunning.”
My jaw tightens.
“That is not my bride.”
My voice remains calm.
Controlled.
I turn slightly, making sure there is no misunderstanding.
“That is Vivian.”
A pause.
“Ellie’s sister.”
The elder blinks.
Then his expression changes.
Embarrassment.
“Ah.”
He clears his throat.
“Of course. My apologies.”
I should let it go.
I should make an excuse.
Smooth it over.
Solve it.
That is what I do.
That is what an Alpha does.
But then I remember Ellie.
Her anger.
Her frustration.
Every argument we’ve had.
Every time she told me Vivian was not harmless.
And suddenly…
It becomes obvious.
This isn’t my problem to fix.
Not this time.
Ellie isn’t here to defend herself.
And she shouldn’t have to.
I excuse myself mid-conversation.
Ignore the whispers following me.
Ignore the curious looks.
I cross the room.
Straight toward Vivian.
Because this time…
I’m not solving the problem for Ellie.
I’m standing up for her.