LEFT AT THE ALTAR

CHAPTER 1: LEFT AT THE ALTAR

ZARA:

It’s the full moon, and my mating ceremony is supposed to be held today. I stood at the stone altar of the Stormfang Pack temple, my fingers tracing the cold, rough edges of the ancient carvings. The air inside the temple was thick with the scent of burning cedar and the nervous energy of over a hundred wolves, pack members who had gathered to witness the ceremony.

Everyone was waiting. They were all murmuring, shifting in their seats, casting side-long glances at the empty space beside me where Rider Stormfang—my future, my Alpha heir, my mate—was supposed to be standing.

Traditionally, the Alpha arrives first. He stands at the altar, proud and dominant, waiting for his bride to grace him with her presence. But here I was, standing alone, feeling like a fool in a floor-length white mating gown that felt less like a celebration and more like a costume for a play where the lead actor didn't show up.

I checked my reflection in the polished obsidian slab near the altar. I looked beautiful. My hair was braided back with silver pins, and my skin glowed under the moonlight. Too bad he wasn't here to see it.

Minutes ticked by, turning into a heavy, suffocating hour. The whispers grew louder. I could feel the pity radiating off the elders in the front row. Then, the heavy wooden doors creaked open. It wasn't Rider. It was Michael, his Beta, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else on earth. He walked up to me, his boots clacking loudly against the stone, and held out a phone. His expression was tight, guarded.

"He wants to talk to you," Michael muttered.

I took the phone, my hand trembling just a little. I didn't say anything until I pressed it to my ear. "Hello?"

Rider’s voice boomed through the speaker, deep and impatient, barely sounding sorry. "Zara. Listen, Serena tripped on the garden steps. She’s got a nasty sprained ankle, and I can't just leave her here in this much pain. It’s bad. Let’s do the mating ceremony another day, okay?"

I felt the blood drain from my face. I stood there, frozen, the weight of the silence in the temple crashing down on me. This was the third time. The third time he’d left me standing at this altar, cold and alone, all because of her.

The first time, Serena had a flat tire on her way to the mall. She "didn't know how to fix it," and Rider rushed out like a knight in shining armor, leaving me to explain to a temple full of people why there would be no bonding that day. The second time, she’d had a full-blown panic attack seeing two strangers outside her window. We were already at the temple, the ceremony about to start. But when Rider got the call, he ran off and spent the whole day coaxing her out of her room while I sat in my bridal suite, staring at the walls.

And now, it's a sprained ankle. It was always perfectly timed, always something that required his undivided, physical attention. And it always happens when we're supposed to be having our mating ceremony.

"Zara? Did you hear me?" he demanded.

I didn't answer. I just handed the phone back to Michael and turned around. This time, I didn't bother explaining to the guests, trying to defend Rider. I didn't care about the etiquette. I didn't care about the politics of the pack. I grabbed the front of my dress and marched out of the temple, my heels clicking a furious rhythm against the floor.

I headed straight for the main pack house, my heart aching like someone was pounding on it. I reached the hallway where the guest rooms were, and that’s when I heard it.

Moans.

Not sounds of pain. Not sounds of someone who had a sprained ankle. These were the sounds of pleasure—low, rhythmic, and unmistakable. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I crept toward the room, my breath hitching when I saw the door was cracked open just a sliver.

And it was a terrible sight before me.

I ignored my wolf who was whimpering in despair. I pushed the door open just enough to see. Then I took out my phone and just started recording.

Rider was in this room, his back to me, his powerful frame working in a brutal, carnal rhythm. He had his hands buried deep in Serena’s hair, pulling her head back like she was on a leash, while he pounded into her from behind.

"Oh, Rider, yes! Harder! Please, right there!" Serena was screaming, her voice raw. "Oh my Goddess, I will never get tired of having you drill me like this!"

I almost puked right then and there. But then Rider spoke, his voice growling with a possessiveness that made my skin crawl. "Don't you ever forget, Serena. You’re the only one who can bring out the beast in me. You’re the only one my body reacts to like this. I’ll always be here to satisfy you."

Turning to glance at Rider, Serena laughed, a high, mocking sound. "Poor Zara. She’s probably still at the temple right now, waiting for a marking that is never, ever going to happen."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. A marking that would never happen.

Something inside me snapped. The humiliation, the years of waiting, the constant second-place status and the pain of watching my mate betray me in this unthinkable manner—it all just burned away into pure, cold rage. I took off my heavy, ornate heels. I didn't hesitate. I stepped into the room and wound up my arm, throwing my shoe with every ounce of wolf strength I had.

It hit the target perfectly.

THWACK.

They scrambled apart like roaches when the lights flip on. Rider dove for his pants, his face twisted in a mask of shock and fury. Serena screamed, clutching the side of her face where my heel had caught her cheek.

"My face! You hit my face!" Serena wailed, rolling off the bed.

Rider was on his feet, his shirt half-buttoned, his eyes blazing with a dangerous, golden light. He stomped over to me, looking like he wanted to tear me apart. "Have you lost your damn mind, Zara? How dare you! How dare you try to hurt her?"

He pointed a finger at me, his chest heaving. "She has a sprained ankle—she was trying to rush down to the temple to witness our ceremony when she slipped, and you treat her like this? Look at how you bruise her face. How heartless can you be?"

I let out a laugh, but it was hollow, jagged. I looked him dead in the eye, my voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through me. "Heartless? You’re standing here, half-naked, screwing another woman while our pack is waiting for us at the altar, and I’m the heartless one?"

I gestured to the room, to the scene of his betrayal. "That’s my definition of heartless, Rider. You’re a joke."

For a second, just a flicker, guilt flashed in his eyes. He stumbled back, looking at the bed, then back at me. But then he shook his head, his jaw clenching tight. He ran a hand through his hair, his expression hardening again.

"It’s not what you think," he started, that tired, pathetic excuse falling out of his mouth. "She was in pain. Her ankle was hurting so bad and… I was just helping her ease the pain."

I stepped closer to him, invading his space until I could smell the sweat and the musk of his betrayal on him. "Ease her pain with your dick inside her? Is that the new healing technique in the Stormfang pack?"

I took a deep breath, staring him dead in the eyes. "We’re over, Rider. I’m done. I want you to reject me right now."