Surprise On The Rooftop.

Ophelia's POV 

I stared at the screen, unable to blink, unable to breathe.

This had to be wrong. It had to be.

My eyes moved over the letters again and again, hoping they would somehow change. They never did.

A nervous laugh almost escaped me.

Morgana had stood beside me through every important moment of my life. She had celebrated my mating ceremony, wiped away my tears when I struggled, and called me family more times than I could count.

There was no world in which I believed she would betray me.

There simply wasn't.

"Ma'am?"

The receptionist's voice pulled me back to reality.

I swallowed hard, forcing air into my lungs before I struggled to keep my expression calm.

"Where is he?"

The receptionist hesitated. "Ma'am, perhaps you should contact your husband directly."

My heart lurched painfully. "I asked where he is."

The words came out sharper than I intended.

Something in my voice must have unsettled her because she immediately straightened.

Inside my mind, Amare was no longer simply restless. She paced furiously, her growls growing louder with every passing second until they echoed through our bond.

My pulse matched the frantic rhythm of her movements.

I looked at the receptionist again.

"Please," I said, my voice quieter this time. "Just tell me where he is."

The receptionist's scent shifted from professional calm to nervousness.

"He's on the rooftop garden."

Relief rushed through me so suddenly that my knees almost gave way.

I let out a shaky breath.

Of course.

The rooftop was famous for romantic celebrations. Morris probably wanted everything to be perfect, and Morgana was most likely helping him put together an anniversary surprise.

I clung to that thought with everything I had.

It was the only explanation that made sense.

Then the receptionist spoke again.

"He booked the rooftop for a wedding ceremony."

The words hit me like a physical blow. For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

A wedding ceremony.

Not an anniversary dinner.

A wedding.

"No."

The whisper escaped before I could stop it.

My heart slammed painfully against my ribs, so hard I could hear it pounding inside my ears.

Coldness spread through my body until even my fingertips felt numb.

No.

This could not be happening.

Morris would never do this to me.

He loved me.

He had called me only hours ago, laughed with me, and had asked me to wear the lingerie he loved.

None of this made sense.

I looked at the receptionist, silently waiting for her to smile and tell me she had made a mistake.

She never did.

Instead, pity filled her eyes.

The sight made something twist painfully inside my chest. I quickly turned away before she could see the tears beginning to gather.

This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong.

Morris would never betray me. Morgana would never betray me.

There had to be an explanation waiting for me on that rooftop.

There had to be.

I barely remembered crossing the lobby.

Christmas music floated through the air while people laughed and chatted around me, but the sounds seemed distant, as though I were hearing them from underwater.

Every step toward the elevators felt heavier than the last.

My stomach churned so violently that bile burned the back of my throat.

I was surprised I did not run to the nearest restroom. Instead, my feet kept moving.

The elevator arrived with a soft chime. I stepped inside and pressed the button for the rooftop.

As the doors slid shut, my reflection stared back at me from the polished metal walls.

I found myself studying the woman looking back at me.

The deep red wrap dress hugged every generous curve of my body, cinching at my waist before flowing over my wide hips. My full breasts filled the sweetheart neckline, while the soft fabric rested gently over the roundness of my stomach.

My hair was perfect.

My makeup was flawless.

Only a few hours ago, I had smiled while getting dressed because I believed my husband wanted me exactly as I was.

Now I could barely recognize the woman staring back at me.

A bitter laugh caught in my throat.

What a fool I must look like.

The elevator climbed steadily upward. With every floor it passed, the knot in my stomach tightened until it became painful to breathe.

I kept telling myself I was overreacting.

Morris loved me.

Morgana loved me.

Whatever waited upstairs had to be a misunderstanding. It had to be.

The elevator came to a gentle stop, and when the doors finally slid open, cool evening air rushed over my face.

I stepped out, and the rooftop garden stretched before me in a sea of golden lights.

For one brief moment, everything looked beautiful.

White roses lined a long aisle beneath glowing lights, while elegant flower arrangements surrounded rows of neatly arranged chairs filled with guests.

The soft sound of music drifted through the evening air.

Then I noticed familiar faces.

Several members of the Stormridge Pack were seated among the guests, but many others belonged to neighboring packs. Their scents mixed together, filling the air around me.

My heartbeat stumbled.

This was far too grand for an anniversary dinner.

It looked exactly like a wedding.

My pulse thundered so loudly that it drowned out almost everything else.

I could feel the blood rushing through my ears as my fingers curled into trembling fists.

"No," I whispered to myself.

My feet refused to move.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze toward the altar.

And the world stopped.

A high priest stood at the center of a raised platform in ceremonial robes embroidered with silver moons.

Before him stood a bride and groom.

The bride's white gown shimmered beneath the lights, while her long dark hair flowed over her shoulders like silk.

I knew that hair, even that smile.

It was Morgana.

My chest tightened so violently that I instinctively grabbed the front of my dress.

Then my eyes shifted to the man standing beside her.

Everything inside me shattered.

That was Morris.

He stood facing her with a look I knew better than my own reflection.

I had seen that expression countless times. It was the same soft smile he wore when he looked at me.

The same tenderness that had convinced me I was loved.

For one impossible second, I honestly believed I was dreaming.

None of it felt real.

Not the music. Not the guests. Not the flowers. And certainly not the sight of my husband looking at my best friend as though she were the only woman in the world.

A sharp pain spread through my chest.

I could barely breathe around it.

My knees almost gave out beneath me, but somehow I remained standing.

Amare did not make a sound.

Her silence was worse than any howl. It felt as though she had stopped breathing with me.

Every memory I had spent five years protecting cracked apart inside my mind.

The high priest smiled warmly at them.

"Today, we gather beneath the blessing of the Moon Goddess to witness the union of two destined hearts."

The guests erupted into applause. The sound hit me like a slap, making me flinch.

I wanted to scream that they were applauding my husband.

My mate.

The man who was supposed to be celebrating our anniversary. Instead, my voice refused to come out.

Morris reached for Morgana's hands.

She looked up at him with a smile so full of happiness that it made my stomach twist.

The high priest continued speaking, but his words became distant.

A loud ringing filled my ears until I could no longer hear anything else.

My vision blurred with tears. I blinked hard, refusing to let them fall.

This was not happening. It could not be happening.

Then one sentence pierced through the ringing.

"You may kiss the bride."

Time seemed to stop, as my entire body went rigid.

Morris did not hesitate.

He lifted both hands and gently cupped Morgana's face with the same tenderness I had once believed belonged only to me.

Then he kissed her.