Chapter 1

JACKLA

“You know it’s bad luck to see your wife in her wedding dress before the wedding,” I whispered, trying to laugh off the chill that crawled up my spine.

Before I could take another breath, his warm hand slid around my waist, pulling me back until my body pressed against his. His breath brushed over my neck as he inhaled my scent slowly, sending a shiver down my spine.

He chuckled softly, his lips close to my ear. “I don’t care about any godforsaken omen. I just wanted to see my wife.” Ryan turned me around gently, his fingers resting on my hips. 

His eyes moved over the white silk hugging my body, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. “You look…” He stopped, blinking like the words had left him.

I blushed and tried to look away. “You need to leave now, Ryan, before someone walks in and sees you,” I begged quietly, but he only smirked. He was always stubborn like that.

“I can’t wait to taste you, my love,” he whispered, tracing his fingers up the middle of my chest, his eyes dark and hungry. He bit his lower lip slowly, making my heart race.

“I can’t wait either, baby,” I murmured, smiling shyly.

I had promised myself to wait until marriage, and Ryan never complained, not once. He said love was worth waiting for, and I believed him. “I can’t wait to see how freaky you are,” he teased, grinning. 

I giggled and hit his chest lightly, but before I could say another word, he leaned in and kissed me hard. His mouth moved against mine with so much hunger that I forgot where I was for a second…until the door burst open.

“Oh heavens, Ryan, what are you doing here? It’s bad—”

“Yeah, bad omen, I know,” Ryan finished for her, laughing as he pulled away.  “I love you, Jackla,” Ryan said, his eyes soft now.

“I love you too,” I whispered, watching him leave before turning back to the mirror. “You shouldn’t have let him see you,” Willow said, shaking her head but smiling anyway.

“You know you can’t stop Ryan when he wants something,” I sighed, looking at my reflection. My dress sparkled under the light, my curls framed my face, and for the first time in years, I felt beautiful.

Six years. That’s how long it’s been since I ran away from home…from my pack, from the pain, from everything that once broke me. I was seventeen and saw my sister on our stepfather’s lap, his hands already claiming what should’ve never been touched.

Jayla had seen me. She didn’t even flinch. Just smiled, like it didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter. From that moment, I became the outsider in my own home.

Jayla got the name. The house. The inheritance.

I got silence.

And bruises.

The humans had been kind to me even though I never truly fit in. They didn’t know what I was, and I made sure it stayed that way. And now, here I was, about to marry the man I loved. For once, I believed I could finally live a normal life.

“It’s time, Jackie,” Willow whispered.

I nodded, holding my bouquet tight as we walked toward the doors. Every step I took down the aisle felt like a dream. Ryan stood waiting, looking impossibly handsome in his black suit. 

When I reached him, Ryan’s eyes glistened with tears. We repeated our vows, and I couldn’t stop giggling under my breath because we were both too excited, too happy, and too sure this was forever.

Then the priest smiled. “You may now kiss the bride.” Ryan leaned in, his hands trembling as they cupped my face. But just before his lips touched mine, the church doors slammed open with a loud thud.

Every head turned.

Then I saw her.

Standing there with a loaded gun crossed on her body, pointed straight at me. She didn’t move. She didn’t blink. She stood still, surrounded by men holding heavy guns, their eyes cold and ready. 

Her lips curved into an evil grin that made my breath catch in my throat. The bouquet slipped from my hands. 

Her face was mine. Her eyes, cold and knowing.

Jayla.

My sister.

My twin.

The last person I ever wanted to see again.

Still staring straight into my eyes, she slowly turned the gun, pointing it toward Ryan. My heart stuttered. Her smile widened as she raised the gun higher, her finger curling around the trigger. 

For a split second, everything went quiet – the music, the gasps, even my own breath.

“Ryan!” I screamed.

The sound of the gunshot tore through the church. It was loud, sharp, and final. Ryan’s body jerked as the bullet hit his chest, and then he fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

Everything broke at once. People screamed. Chairs toppled. The air filled with chaos and gunfire as the crowd rushed toward the doors, fighting to escape. 

My legs gave out, and I dropped beside him, my shaking hands pressing over his wound as blood poured between my fingers. “Ryan, please, stay with me,” I cried, my voice cracking as I tried to stop the bleeding. 

His eyes fluttered open, his lips moving, but no words came out. Blood trailed down from the corner of his mouth, and I felt his hand grow weaker in mine.

“I love you, Jackla,” he said finally. 

“Please don’t leave me, Ryan,” I whispered again, tears blurring my vision as I kissed his forehead and cheeks, not caring that his blood stained my face and dress. “Please, my love.”

Then I heard her voice.

“Hi, sis.”

Her tone was smooth, almost playful. When I looked up, Jayla was smiling like this was all a game. Before I could react, rough hands grabbed me from behind and yanked me away from Ryan’s body. 

I kicked and screamed, reaching for him, but one of them pressed a cloth over my nose. The smell hit fast and strong. My head spun. My body went weak.

Through the haze, I saw Ryan lying still, his white shirt soaked in red. Jayla’s grin was the last thing I saw before darkness swallowed me, and her voice echoed faintly in my mind.

“How pathetic.”