CH5: Edward's POV

I opened my eyes the next morning, wincing at the sharp beam of sunlight streaming through the open window. My body ached in places I didn’t even know could hurt, both inside and out. Every movement was a reminder of what had happened the night before.

Flashes of the previous night threatened to rush in, vivid and raw, but I shoved them aside before they could take root. Whatever happened… it belonged to the past now. Yesterday had died with the night. Today was a new day—my wedding day. The beginning of a new chapter, and I refused to start it weighed down by regret.

Groaning softly, I tried to sit up, only to feel the weight of a firm arm draped across my waist, tightly and possessive. I stilled, heart skipping. Slowly, I tilted my head to the side.

Not Sydney.

I’d memorized Sydney’s arms last night. His grip when he held me in that hallway, his touch when he kissed every inch of my skin. These arms were different, broader and stronger.

“It must be the tattooed man…” I whispered to myself.

It took a few strained breathless seconds before I managed to untangle myself from him. I glanced at the floor.

Sydney was sprawled there fast asleep. His breathing was steady, mouth slightly parted, utterly unaware of the storm unraveling inside me. I didn’t dare wake him up.

Silently, I snatched up my trousers and shirt from the floor, pulling them on in a daze. My mind was racing, but my body moved on autopilot.

I needed to leave and as fast as I could.

By now, the designers would be looking for me. My father had spared no expense arranging this wedding—lavish and opulent and everything he thought a marriage should be. My secretary had mentioned they were flying in my suit from Italy. Handmade and custom-fitted. The shoes too, hand-stitched leather, polished to perfection.

Everything had been planned down to the last stitch.

Except… this.....

This sin I was about to flee from.

I knew I’d buried something in that room last night. A part of me. A line I shouldn’t have crossed but what was done was done. I couldn’t rewrite it. I could only choose to forget.

Sydney had invited me here for reasons I didn’t understand. Maybe he’d been lost in his own emotions. Or maybe I’d just been too weak to resist when I felt that second man take me with such animal desperation.

I was almost at the door when the thought struck like a dagger: Who was the second man? The one who had rammed and thrusted his engorging manhood into my asshole with such reckless abandon like a possessed man…

My breath caught as I turned back.

My steps were hesitant as I walked toward the bed, as though my body already knew what my mind didn’t want to believe.

The man’s face was turned away, hair tousled against the pillow, the muscles of his back relaxed in slumber. I moved closer and the closer until I saw him.

Luca.

My heart slammed in my chest.

No…

I staggered backward, bile rising in my throat.

Luca. Of all people?

I hadn’t known it was him then. Goddess, I hadn’t known!

I didn’t wait. I couldn’t. The moment he stirred, I bolted barefoot and breathlessly away from the room, barely holding myself together. I didn’t even grab my belt.

The only thing I clung to was a single desperate hope that he had been too drunk last night to remember.

God, please let him be too drunk to remember.

Because I will spend the rest of my life pretending this never happened.

***

I made it back home just in time. Minutes before the fashion designers arrived. My father wasn’t even around to notice I had been gone. Typical of him.

He was probably off somewhere finalizing deals, meeting business partners and rivals alike. Working. Always working. Even on his son’s wedding day, pack politics still held him hostage.

The ballroom was already alive with people when I got there, glistening in luxury, decorated to the teeth in opulence and grandeur.

I stood at the end of the aisle, my face carved in stone as I watched Rebecca walk toward me.

The guests had gathered in their best garments, whispering excitedly and sipping wine. I didn’t bother checking whether it was silver-threaded roses or gold-dusted lilies lining the aisle. That was the kind of detail girls obsessed over, not me.

But judging by the way several women clustered around floral photo booths, giggling and taking endless pictures, I didn’t need anyone to tell me how much my father had poured into making today look like a royal coronation.

Did I care? No.

Not about the extravagance. Or about the wedding. Not even the least about the bride walking down to join me at the altar.

She finally reached me, took her place across from me, and gave a picture-perfect smile. Her eyes flitted between me and the crowd, savoring the attention.

There was no mistaking the flicker of triumph in her gaze. She had won.

The heir to the Bloodmoon Pack… and the controlling stake in Carter Holdings. She would be Luna one day. My Luna. That alone was enough to excuse my flaws and whether she saw me as a weak and whiny wolf with the tiny carrot that might not be able to fill her.

Her acceptance of this marriage wasn’t about love. I didn’t need anyone to spell that out. It was strategy, an alliance between two powerful packs, sealed by her womb and my surname.

Her father had agreed too easily, too quickly. Of course, he had. With her in my bed and his blood in my future children, he’d have influence he’d never gain through politics alone.

I could tell without needing to be told that this was the reason she'd consented to the wedding. The reason her father, whose pack is a rival to my fathers had readily agreed to an alliance as well.

I nearly scoffed.

If Luca had chosen her, none of this would be happening.

If he had loved her back, even a little, she would have gladly thrown away all the jewels and luxury just to have him. But he didn’t and I don't think that womanizing half brother of mine ever will.

And so, I was her rebound. The stand-in. The safety net. The second-best. The substitute. The replacement she thought of when whom she wanted couldn't be hers.

And there he was, Luca, seated at the front beside my father where he never sat. He wasn’t one for family events. He hated our formalities and despised the politics.

But today… today he came. Looking composed and as though nothing happened last night. Carefree with his selfish and self conceited attitude that he always reeked of.

My stomach turned.

Why was he here? And why now?

“Edward Johnson?”

The voice snapped me out of my thoughts, causing me to pause and blink.

The hall had gone still. All eyes were on me. I turned, dazed and uncertain. I hadn’t even registered who had called my name.

Then I noticed Sydney, walking in from the side entrance, late and disheveled, his shirt was wrinkled and his hair left unbrushed. He looked like a ghost of himself. As though he hadn’t slept. Or had just survived a disaster. Late to his own sister's wedding and looking all tattered and unkept as if he didn't have enough time to prepare for the ceremony despite being late.

My gaze slipped past him, only to land back on Luca before they settled on my bride to be's.

Our eyes met.

His stare held mine. Unblinking and too intense for my liking.

My chest tightened.

Had he remembered? Last night? The sin? The…

I swallowed, forcing myself to look away. But my gaze met Rebecca’s, and she was staring and confused. So was the officiant, the Elder holding the sacred scroll.

Then I saw it.

The page was open to the vows and on the part I was supposed to say.

Apparently, they were all waiting for me to speak.

To vow myself to Rebecca. To bind my soul to hers. To promise love, loyalty and protection to her and our future. To tether our destinies until death took us both.

And suddenly, all the air left my lungs.

Because as I stood there before the altar, surrounded by grandeur and faces and expectations… I asked myself the one question I could no longer ignore.

Did I even want this?

Did I want forever .......with her?