The Storm Returns: The Unwitting Groom

Chapter 5

CLARA

The Moonlight Pack gates stood before me, exactly as I remembered them. My heart hammered with anticipation as I smoothed down my dress—emerald green to match my eyes, cut to perfection to showcase the body that had cost me everything.

‘They won’t even recognize me,’ I thought, a smile playing at my lips. Clara Wren was dead and buried. In her place stood Liora Rivers, beautiful beyond measure, powerful beyond their comprehension.

I could already picture their faces when they realized who I was. Damien’s shock. Sage’s jealousy. The pack’s guilt and terror as they understood what they’d unleashed.

My hand touched the gate, and electricity shot through me. This was it. This was my moment.

I stepped through.

Pain exploded across the back of my skull. The world tilted, my vision blurring as I hit the ground hard. Through the haze, I saw boots, heard voices, felt rough hands grabbing me.

“Got her,” someone said. “Perfect timing.”

‘No,’ I tried to scream, tried to fight, but darkness was pulling me under. ‘This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.’

Everything went black.

-----

Consciousness returned slowly, like swimming up from the bottom of a deep lake. There was music playing—something soft and romantic. Voices murmuring around me. The scent of flowers everywhere.

I tried to move and realized I was standing. Someone was holding me upright, their grip firm on my arms. My head pounded, my vision still fuzzy, but I could make out shapes in front of me.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

The words hit me like ice water. My vision cleared with shocking suddenness, and I saw where I was.

An altar. Flowers everywhere. Rows of seats filled with pack members, all dressed in their finest clothes. Everyone was smiling, cheering, looking at me with joy and approval.

I looked down at myself and my blood turned to ice.

White dress. Flowing silk and lace, more beautiful than anything I’d ever owned. A bouquet of white roses clutched in my trembling hands. A veil trailing behind me.

‘No. No, no, no.’

“I do,” a familiar voice said beside me, warm and confident.

I turned, and my world shattered all over again.

Damien Storm stood next to me in a black tuxedo, looking more handsome than ever. His grey eyes were bright with happiness as he smiled at me—at the stranger he thought I was. The man who’d destroyed Clara Wren was now promising to love and cherish Liora Rivers.

“And do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

The officiant was looking at me expectantly. The entire pack was watching, waiting for my answer. Damien’s hand found mine, his touch sending fire through my veins.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. This was insane. This was impossible. How had I gone from planning my revenge to standing at an altar with the man who’d shattered my heart?

“I…” I whispered.

“She’s just overwhelmed,” Damien said with a laugh, squeezing my hand. “It’s been a whirlwind courtship.”

Courtship?What courtship? I’d been unconscious! But everyone was nodding like this made perfect sense, like they’d been expecting this wedding.

“I do,” I heard myself say, the words falling from my lips like stones.

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Damien turned to me, his eyes soft with affection—affection meant for someone who didn’t exist. His hand cupped my cheek, and I saw nothing but love in his expression. Love for beautiful Liora, while Clara remained buried and forgotten.

His lips touched mine, and the crowd erupted in cheers. Rice flew through the air, people were crying happy tears, and all I could think was how utterly, completely wrong this all was.

“I love you, Mrs. Storm,” Damien whispered against my lips, his voice full of wonder.

Mrs. Storm. The name I’d dreamed of as a lonely, fat girl who thought she’d never be good enough. Now it was mine, won through deception and magic, hollow as everything else in my new life.

“I love you too,” I lied, the words burning my throat.

The reception blurred past in a haze of congratulations and dancing. Damien never left my side, his arm around my waist, introducing me to people as his “miracle bride.” Every touch sent conflicting signals through my body—hatred and desire, rage and longing, the urge to scream the truth and the desperate need to maintain the lie.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he said during one slow dance, his breath warm against my ear. “Having second thoughts?”

You have no idea.

“Just tired,” I managed. “It’s been an overwhelming day.”

“We’ll have a lifetime of days,” he said, spinning me gently. “I still can’t believe you’re mine. When I first saw you three months ago, I thought you were too beautiful to be real.”

Three months ago? I’d been with Silas three months ago, still transforming. But somehow, impossibly, Liora Rivers had apparently swept into Damien’s life and stolen his heart.

Magic. It had to be magic, some side effect of the transformation that had created false memories, a false courtship, a false love story that everyone believed but me.

“Tell me again how we met,” I said carefully.

Damien’s face lit up with the memory. “At the summer festival in Crescent Falls. You were visiting from the city, remember? You got lost trying to find the main stage, and I offered to be your guide.” His thumb traced circles on my hand. “You were so sophisticated, so different from anyone I’d ever met. I couldn’t stop thinking about you after you left.”

None of it was real, but everyone believed it completely. And as I stood there in his arms, a slow smile began to spread across my lips.

This wasn’t a disaster.

This was an opportunity.

I was married to Damien Storm. I had access to everything—his heart, his home, his pack, his vulnerabilities. I could destroy him from the inside out, more thoroughly than any public confrontation ever could. I could make him love me completely, then reveal the truth and watch his world crumble.

“Perfect,” I whispered, and meant it.