Chapter 76
morning. I’m totally overwhelmed by the wedding preparations. This is nothing like the bonding ceremony was. I thought that was grand. This is on a whole other level. It’s like stepping into chaos, and it’s stressing me the fuck out.
Hairdressers, Makeup artist, fashion designers, photographers everyone is here, buzzing around me like I’m some kind of centerpiece.
And Deckard Nowhere to be found. I’m not allowed to see him until the altar, they say
A part of me feel excited, of course, but the other part! Stressed to no end. Ezra isn’t though. She’s practically glowing, jumping with joy over her second–chance mate. Her mergy is endless, and honestly, I envy it
ge to eat something light in the morning, but my body feels off I’m constantly thirsty, downing water and juice, but it doesn’t seem to help, totally dehydrated
I know it’s the pregnancy. The moment I found out, everything about my body started to feel different. This is my first time being pregnant, and i have no idea what’s normal or not. Still, it feels too early to be this affected. My mind races with questions, but there’s no time for answers now
Or maybe I’m just being overly delusional
Ikea limpse of myself in the mirror, standing there in my white gown, and for a moment. I can’t breathe.
Like a queen
i can barely recognize the woman gazing back at me. This gown–it’s not something I ever thought I’d wear. It’s nothing like the overdone frilly dresses covered in beads and lace that people imagine for brides. No, this is something else entirely. The fabric is smooth, luxurious silk mikado in a shade softer than pure white–almost ivory. It hugs my body perfectly, the off–shoulder neckline framing my collarbones and Blowing into a structured bodice that feels both real and modem
A subdes along the side reveals a glimmer of gold–the pale gold heels on my feet, their delicate straps adorned with tiny pearls…
I reach up. fingers brushing the tiara perched lightly on my head. It’s not busy or overwhelming, just sophisticated–platinum vines delicately ser with diamonds. Each stone is cut so sharply that the light catches and scatters with every tiny movement, creating a soft halo around me in the reflection. I also have a teardrop necklace sining just above my collarbones. It’s bold but not too much–a collar of baguette diamonds, their clean.
On my wrist, I wear only a single bracelet–vintage, with inlaid mother of pearl and sapphire accents
I lean closer to the mirror, studying my face. The makeup artist was good. My lips are painted in a color that feels like it belongs to me–nol pink, not red but something in between, a muted terracotta that brings warmth without drawing too much attention.
1 exhor, and for a moment, my breath fogs the glass. When it clears, I see myself again, not as I was, but as I am now–a woman who is stepping into a role she didn’t choose but won’t shrink from
I ignore the strange feeling lingering in the back of my mind and focus on the moment. Today, I am ready to be seen by my alpha
A train of bridesmaids–ladies I don’t even know–escorts me as I step toward the vintage Rolls–Royce waiting outside. The other bridesmaids pile into a line of SUVs behind me,
To my surper. I find myself alone in the car, aside from the driver. At first, it feels odd, but I quickly realize I don’t mind. The thought of awkward small walk right now feels unbearable, so I welcome the silence.
The convoy takes off and I lean back into the plush seat, trying to steady my nerves. As the car glides down the road, dizziness washes over me and I shut my eyes, hoping a short rest will help before we arrive at the venue.
se by now, but we’re not there. My
I’m not sure how long I slept for, but when I open my eyes, something feels wrong. The venue should be close by now, hram skips a beat as I glance behind me. The convoy–the SUV carrying the bridesmaids–is gone.
I sit up straight, my breath hastens. The car is moving at an alarming speed, far faster than it should.
My heart pounds wildly in my chest, fear spreading through me like wildfire. Something is wrong.
Wha..what is going on!” My voice trembles
The driver–his face is vaguely familiar, but I can’t place him. I don’t even know his name. Did I see him at the castle before, or was it somewhere
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Chapter 76
“Driver” I call out, trying to sound firm despite the fear creeping into my voice. “Where are we going! Wher you taking me!”
the rest of the convoy
Where are
He says nothing
“Answer me now!” I shout, panic giving strength to my voice. “Where the hell are you taking me! I demand that you answer me!” My hands grip the edge of the seat as the car speeds along the road.
Suddenly, he yells back. “Shut the hell up!” His voice is harsh, and he slams his hand on the dashboard, causing the car’s horn to blare loudly.
Fear spikes through me like lightning, but I don’t have time to give in to it.
Then, I notice them–bikers. They’re flanking the car, riding close on both sides.
Without thinking. I roll down the window, leaning out desperately. “Help! Help me I scream at the top of my lungs, hoping someone will come to
my resone.
One of the bikers pulls up on my side, close enough for me to see his smirk beneath his helmet. “You need help?” he asks, I nod frantically, like a drowning person reaching for a lifeline.
But then, to my horror, he bursts into laughter…
Of course. The driver doesn’t react at all when I put the window down, and it clicks in my head–they’re all in on this
The biker who taunted me speeds ahead, glancing back briefly. “Good job, Cane. Follow us we’ll lead the way he shouts over the roar of his bike.
The driver–Cane, apparently–accelerates, falling in line behind the bikers. My heart races as I watch them take the lead, the car obediently following their path.
“Where are you taking me? What do you want from me! And who the hell are you?” My voice is shaking now, a mix of fear and anger brewing within me. Despite my trembling hands, I refuse to back dowIL
The driver finally speaks, “I would do you a lot of good if you shut the hell up and sit tight. Amica. Or should I call you the Luna?”
Before I can respond, he presses a button, and the window I’d rolled down and it slides back up.
“We’ve got a long journey ahead of us,” he continues, his cone cold and threatening. “So you’d better behave yourself, or things will get a lot worse for you
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Chapter 77
Year grqing, chest as I sit here is the back seat, all dress and called up for my wedding, only to be kidsapest by these unkown
The cat trees somen the road and my heart pounds hander with every second I have no idea what’s waiting for me at the end of this tile, and the ist–kreasing sa ating me ale
A, sharp pana Dwipts mums, stoma, h, and I’m sweating like crazy de quite the cool air Blasting fom the vents. How long have we benaliving? Mimites! Hours? I can’t tell anymore
Then, the car suddenly nos cono a quiet road, one lourd with mathing but towering ters in either side. No looses, no landmarks – just enolless wosada, sten, hing out in every direction. Where the hell are they taking mart
Pay, we pull DA SE
une unsmarkest path, its like a road in the woods
The ride feels rough now, bumpy bike the car’s struggling over gravel or dit. After what feels like two kilometers, a building comes into view. It’s massive, gray, and untinichol—an unpainted sina ture sitting in the michille of nowhere. It looks abambused, but something about it feels anything. but engly.
The car stop in front of the bouding. I glance out the wind and see men–werewolves–patrolling the area. These are
And then i clicks. The driver’s tace—it’s been nagging at me this entire ride. Haven’t seen hin before, yet it feels disturbingly familiar The realizatus huts me like a punch. His face resembles the rogue Deckard killes suring that first kidnapping attempt. But that’s impossible. Deckanl killed him – 1 saw it. So how is thus even remotely possible?
I dont have time to process it. Hauls grab me, rough, yanking me out of the car I stumble, and before I can tegam my balance, they’re illragging me into the building
Inside, the air feels thick and oppressive. My eyes mediately is on a man sitting on an iron chair atop a makeshift platform. He radiates danger, hus porsemer donninating the room like a storm cloud. A scar runs down the side of his face, jagged and grotesque, the kind of scar that defines a man’sentar being. He doesn’t just wear it–be becomes it
1 glave around, Diing in
shabby, duy clothe crowd of togies scattered throughout the space. They’re everything the mones say—wild, ruthless, untethered. Their
on their wiry frames like rags, and their eyes glint with a primal hunger. They aren’t bound by rules or parks or anything. They’re chaos, predators with no leash
I try to piece it together. What do they want from me? Why bring me here!
The rogue who had been gripping me finally lets go, shoving me forward as I stumble to stand before the scar–faced man.
“Kneel” one of the rogues barks harshly. I strop to my kores immediately, too afraid to resist.
“Wow” the sear Lond man drawbs from his seat. “Is this the Lund? The Lyn of Lamos..”
His words drip with derision, and though I can’t fully see his face in the dimly lit room, his disfiguring scar stands out prominerally making him seem even more dangerous..
“The king of rogues and the alpha of alphas is speaking to you? Will you not respond? Are you so proud that you’ll ignore the Alpha” another voice chimes in, sharp and scolding
Startled. I tom my head to see an older mun stepping in, his stern eyes fixed on me.
“M–my name is Amica” 1 staminer, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Oh yes, we know who you are,” the scar–faced man says with a low chuckle. His annisement feels like poison. “And look at you–so beautiful an your wedding gown “He smirks, “Tran tell you were on your way to nurry Deckard Blackthom”
At the mention of Deckard, laughter erupts around the room, echoing off the walls. The rogues‘ mocking tones fill the air,
“Please, who are you people, and what do you want from me?” I manage to ask, my voice trembling but firm enough to be heard over their cruel laughter
The scar–faced man leans back in his chur, a twisted smirk spreading across has face. “So, you’re carrying thought?” He chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. The heir to the Blackthorn clan. hmmm, that’s sad.”
Deckard’s heir! Who would have
How do they know about the child Fear tightens its grip on my chest, but before I can think of a response, a sharp pam tears through my pelvic
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