Chapter 7

“Are you ready?”

Aiden’s mother’s voice was soft as she stepped behind him, her eyes meeting his through the mirror.

“You look handsome. Kylie would be so happy for you.”

Aiden didn’t respond immediately.

He stared at his reflection, his expression unreadable, his eyes completely devoid of warmth.

Slowly, he adjusted his tie.

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” His voice was low, uncertain. “What if I’m wrong?” he added, his brows tightening slightly. “What if… she’s innocent?”

For a split second, something fragile flickered in his eyes, but it vanished just as quickly.

“No,” he muttered, his jaw tightening. “Lyka was there, she saw her push Kylie.”

His mother stepped closer, cupping his face gently.

“Oh, my baby…” she murmured. “You’re just nervous.”

She smiled softly.

“You’re no longer a child. You’re a grown man now… a Beta.”

Her tone became firmer, “Some decisions cannot be undone.”

She held his gaze.

“You could have believed Myra when she said Kylie took her own life… but you know your sister. She had every reason to live.”

“Whatever reason you chose to marry Lyka… you must stand by it. For the rest of your life.”

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead before pulling him into a brief embrace.

“And remember,” she whispered, “as long as I live, I will always support you.”

A knock sounded at the door.

“Aiden! Hurry up—you don’t want to be late for your own wedding!”

“We’re coming,” his mother replied.

She straightened his collar one last time.

“And be a good husband.”

The venue was breathtaking.

Lilies and lavender decorated every corner, their soft scent filling the air. Gold accents shimmered along the walls, reflecting the warm light that bathed the hall.

Guests had already begun to arrive, Alphas, Betas, high-ranking wolves from different packs.

At the center, Alpha Ryan stood beside his Luna, greeting everyone with a polished smile.

Upstairs…

Myra stood in front of the mirror.

Her reflection stared back at her, calm, composed, empty.

She applied the final touches to her makeup before gathering her curly ginger hair into a loose bun, a few strands falling gently around her face.

Her emerald eyes shimmered faintly under the light.

“Knock, knock.”

“The Luna requests your presence downstairs,” the voice said. “The wedding is about to begin.” Myra exhaled softly.

After one last look at herself, she stood and walked out. Downstairs, Lyka was already waiting.

Dressed in white, she looked radiant—her gown hugging her curves perfectly, her expression glowing with excitement.

Lyka’s eyes lit up when she saw Myra.

“Sister,” she beamed, stepping forward. “You look absolutely beautiful… almost like a bride.”

Her smile widened slightly.

“Your mate would have been so lucky.”

She covered her mouth lightly.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

Myra didn’t react. Didn’t blink. Didn’t speak. She just stood there, emotionless.

“We’re going to be late,” Lyka added lightly. Myra finally moved.

“I’m sure we are,” she said flatly. “So stop talking and let’s go.”

She walked past them without another glance.

Lyka’s smile twitched, irritation flashing across her face—but she quickly composed herself.

Today was her day. The moment Myra stepped into the venue, eyes turned.

Whispers followed. Some looked at her with curiosity. Some with envy.

Despite everything, she looked unreal. Like something untouched.

An ethereal beauty standing in the middle of ruin.

Her gaze drifted across the crowd, her eyes landed on a secluded figure.. His presence was quiet… yet suffocating.

Powerful. Unapproachable.

His features were sharp, striking—too perfect, almost dangerous.

As if sensing her gaze, he slowly opened his eyes. And looked directly at her. Lyra’s breath hitched.

She lowered her head instantly, breaking the connection. Across the hall, Matteo’s lips curved slightly.

That ginger hair again. Interesting.

He leaned back, watching her with curiosity.

For a moment, he considered standing… walking over…

But before he could move someone pulled Lyra away.

“The ceremony is starting.”