The Mate He Rejected
Even from fifty feet away, I could smell the bitter, rotting scent of his deep regret.
"He hasn't looked away for twenty minutes," Waverly murmured softly, following my line of sight. She offered a quiet, sympathetic sigh. "It is pathetic, truly. An Alpha should have more dignity in public."
Before I could respond, a sudden, harsh laugh broke through the quiet hum of the pavilion.
Dreda marched into our section of the room. She wore a bright, crimson-red gown covered in heavy beading that caught the sunlight in an obnoxious, blinding glare. Her blonde hair was curled tightly, bouncing around her flushed face.