MIA
On my wedding day, a woman in a gown as pure and white as my own swept into my bridal suite.
Judging by the way she carried herself, this was a woman who had read every etiquette book ever written. She must have read the chapter that said you must never wear white to someone else’s wedding.
She’d done it intentionally.
I had to admit that she was a stunning beauty. Raven-black hair, high cheekbones, red lips the color of poison. But the moment she spoke, her words were nowhere near as pleasant as she looked.
“So,” she said, giving me a sweeping, assessing look. “You are the ‘rogue girl.’”
The term 'rogue girl' hit like a slap. It was what pack members whispered behind my back when they thought I couldn't hear. The reminder of my unknown past and questionable status burned through me.
However, it was true, I was a rogue when I met Derek, my Alpha fated mate. I didn’t belong to this, or any pack.
"Yes, I'm Mia," I replied, forcing my lips into a pleasant smile. "Derek's mate."
The First Look before the ceremony, the first time Derek would see me dressed as his bride—as the new Luna of the Silverclaw pack—was only minutes away. I was about to become Luna to one of the most powerful Alphas in existence.
I had to be composed, graceful, above petty insults, even though my wolf growled inside, urging me to show this woman exactly what a 'rogue girl' was capable of.
Before I had time to ask who this woman was, a voice came from the doorway.
“Cassandra!”
Caroline and Joe, the Betas of Silverclaw, came rolling in behind her.
Caroline stepped forward and pressed a kiss to the woman—Cassandra’s—cheek. She grabbed both of Cassandra’s hands and held them out so that she could see her whole outfit, fawning over her as if she were the bride.
“Stunning, as ever,” Caroline gushed.
Joe smirked, his gaze flicking to me as if daring me to react. “Angelic,” he said. “Like the Moon Goddess herself.”
Cassandra soaked in the compliments and then her eyes landed on me, sharp and appraising. A slow smile curved her lips before she tilted her head in mock curiosity before turning back to Caroline.
“Care to introduce me?” she said.
Joe cleared his throat. "Mia, this is Cassandra Laurent. She's the daughter of Alpha Laurent from the Eastern Ridge Pack."
“Cassandra is one of our oldest friends,” Caroline explained, condescending.
I knew Joe and Caroline never liked me. Was Cassandra just someone Joe and Caroline invited to make sure I didn’t get to enjoy my big day?
I reached up to touch the small scar on my eyebrow—a nervous tic—but I lowered my hand when I saw them both watching.
I forced myself to relax. I had learned to control my emotions long ago, to present myself as worthy. I may not remember how I learned that lesson, but I would not stop doing that today of all days.
I lifted my chin, smoothing my expression into something polite. “Welcome, Cassandra,” I said, my voice level. “I’m glad you could join us.”
“We’re about to have the First Look,” Caroline said to the woman. “Just through here.” She pointed to the hall just outside the room where I waited. “Derek will be here soon.”
“Oh!” Cassandra said. “I didn’t realize I’d stumbled into something so important! I was looking for the bathroom. I didn’t mean to go rogue.”
On the word ‘rogue,’ she threw me a look, her eyes sharp.
There it was again, that word, like a blade slipping between my ribs. She let out a soft laugh and the Betas chuckled along with her.
Heat flushed through me. That label. The ever-present reminder of what I was to them. What I was to the pack.
A stray. An outsider. The one they barely accepted, even after months of proving myself.
I swallowed hard, willing myself to stay calm. Derek had chosen me—fated mate or not, and I had worked to earn my place. I wouldn’t let her shake me.
“How lucky then, that you found us,” I said sweetly.
Her brow arched, as if surprised by my response. For a moment, the room was silent, tension thick between us. Then, as if bored with the conversation, Cassandra let out a sigh and turned away.
“Shall we go?” she said, addressing Joe and Caroline.
Without waiting for a response from me, they led the way to the small hall where Derek was waiting. I followed, keeping my shoulders back and my steps measured. Inside, my stomach twisted with unease.
The ceremony space had been transformed for the occasion, every surface throughout the building draped in white and silver. There were flowers woven into every available space, candles flickering along the edges of the room.
I had expected the room to be mostly empty but for the photographer and my groom—the wedding ceremony itself was to be held in the great hall in the back of the building—but the Silverclaw pack had gathered here, their murmurs a low hum as they waited. No doubt they’d been invited by Derek, their Alpha.
“Can you believe no one in the whole Moonstone pack showed up today?” I heard one of them mutter to the werewolf standing next to him.
“Unbelievable,” his friend shook his head. “Did they at least send a gift?”
The first man snorted. “It had better be a nice one,” he said. “The pack can only be in mourning for so long. I don’t care if they lost the Alpha’s daughter. Not showing up today when all of the other packs are represented?”
“An insult,” his friend confirmed.
Almost every pack was here, a testament to Derek's status. Only the Moonstone Pack was absent. Rumor had it they were still mourning their daughter, lost and very likely dead a year ago.
While I think the tragedy deserved a bit more sympathy, their absence clearly did not sit well with our pack. After all, the Moonstone Pack had been enemies with Silverclaw for generations.
I cleared my throat and they both looked at me in surprise, moving out of the way so that I could walk into the room.
This was my moment, I thought, and took a deep breath.
But all eyes were on Cassandra.
She moved easily through the crowd, surrounded by people that looked at her with comfortable familiarity. They smiled, laughed, welcomed her as if she were the bride, as if she were the Luna. The ease with which they accepted her presence made me wonder if there was more to her.
Then Derek walked in.
Even through the haze of my frustration and unease, my breath caught. He was devastatingly handsome in his black suit, his dark hair with that silver streak above his right eye falling onto his forehead just-so.
I heard the click and whirl of the photographer snapping pictures.
The stoic, stern look on Derek’s face softened for a fraction of a second when he spotted me. His lips parted slightly, and something flickered in his gaze—hunger, recognition.
Desire.
I felt it, too. The pull. The bond.
It had been there since that fateful day when we’d met. When he’d found me on the border of his pack’s lands—a rogue werewolf with no memory.
A warmth spread through my chest, a reminder of the connection between us. My mate. Chosen by the Moon Goddess herself.
But then Cassandra stepped forward.
Derek’s expression changed, his posture stiffening as he registered her presence. His gaze swept over her gown, something unreadable crossing his face.
Surprise. Maybe uncertainty. And something else, something softer.
I clenched my hands around the bouquet of flowers held tightly in my grip.
“Derek,” Cassandra purred, stepping toward him, friendly and familiar. “It’s been a long time.”
Derek turned to his friend and spoke to her, words even my superior Were-hearing couldn’t make out.
From my elbow came a voice. Joe’s.
“I always thought this would be their wedding,” he said. I turned to look at him and his gaze was resting on Derek and Cassandra. “They vowed, a long time ago, to only mark each other.”
I stiffened.
Marking—a sacred act between mates, binding them together. Forever.
I looked back at Derek. His eyes were still on Cassandra.
I had thought Cassandra was just another woman who resented my presence like all the rest of them. But now, watching the way people looked at her, the way Derek spoke to her, intimate and soft—I realized I had been wrong.
Though the Moon Goddess had chosen me to be his mate, Derek had, long ago it seemed, chosen her.
And now, she was here, standing boldly at our wedding—like a storm I never saw coming.
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