She took a slow step forward, her lips curling. “You don’t deserve this.”
Another step. “You don’t deserve him. Even for a moment.”
Then she stopped just behind me, placing a hand on the back of my chair, her fingers gripping the carved wood a little too tightly.
I met her gaze through the mirror once more. Her green eyes burning with something dark.
Jealousy. Hatred. Rage.
She hated me.
Not because of my curse, nor because of my lack of a wolf like I had thought at the Lunar Ball when she tried to stop Draven from claiming me.
For the first time, I realized that this was hatred for who I was about to become. Because she had a thing for Draven.
“Are you finished?” I asked evenly.
Surprise flashed across her eyes, and then her nostrils flared. She was pissed now. “How dare you speak to me in that manner? You are nothing more than a piece in a game of chess. Discardable. Killable!”
I don’t know what came over me, but I found myself replying harshly even when I had no plans of doing that.
“If I were that easy to kill, I wouldn’t still be standing.”
Miss Fellowes stood behind me in stunned silence. She hadn’t expected that I would be assertive.
The silence stretched between us. Our gazes refused to back down.
Finally, Miss Fellowes broke the silence as her expression darkened. “Don’t ever get the wrong idea. Draven doesn’t belong to you. He is mine. And I will make sure you understand that.”
I exhaled softly, shifting my gaze away. “I wonder if Draven knows he belongs to you,” I mumbled, looking lost in thought.
The moment the words left my lips, I knew I had struck a nerve.
Miss Fellowes clenched her hands into fists.
For a split second, I thought she might hit me. And she almost did.
Fortunately, Madame Beatrice came back into the room with the group of servants, interrupting our heated exchange, thus, breaking the tense atmosphere.
“Miss Fellowes, the wedding bells will go off in a few minutes. And we still have some work to do.”
Miss Fellowes withdrew her gaze from Madame Beatrice and cast it on me.
“Don’t get comfortable, Meredith. One day, you’ll regret ever stepping foot into this place. And I am Wanda Fellowes. Don’t ever forget my name,” she warned before walking away.
But the air was still thick with her anger.
I had just made an enemy.
Meredith.
The scent of jasmine and vanilla filled the air as Madame Beatrice sprayed perfume over me in slow, deliberate motions.
The fragrance clung to my skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating weight pressing down on my chest.
Everything about me, from my jewelry to my embroidered shoes, screamed elegance.
And yet, my palms sweated. I had never felt more like a nervous prisoner.
The knock on the door was brief before it swung open. I turned my head, watching as the butler from yesterday stepped in, his posture stiff, before speaking.
“Lady Carter and her daughters have arrived,” he announced.
My heart twisted. Before I could prepare myself, my mother and my sisters stepped into the room.
They didn’t hesitate to look me over-Monique’s sharp eyes flickered over the elaborate embroidery of my gown, the delicate jewels in my hair, and the soft white veil cascading down my shoulders.
Then, she smirked as Madame Beatrice and the servant girls nodded politely at my mother. She was the wife to the Beta of one of the Royal werewolf packs after all.
“Well, well,” Monique mused. “Who knew our disgraced, wolfless sister could actually look the part of an Alpha’s bride?”
Mabel chuckled, crossing her arms. “Not that it will make a difference. Even wrapped in silk, she’s still worthless.”
I swallowed the bitterness creeping up my throat, keeping my gaze impassive.
I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing my pain as I had learned long ago that silence stripped them of their satisfaction.
My mother, standing between them, barely glanced at me before exhaling. “Meredith, whatever happens today and in the future, do not embarrass our family and our pack. You will stand tall and do what is expected of you. Remember this.”
I blinked slowly, then asked in a tone devoid of emotion, “Which pack?” My voice was quieter than I intended, but it still held an edge.
“Father already cast me out. I don’t belong to Moonstone Pack anymore.”
Mabel clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “Mum, do you see this? Just one day here, and she’s already talking back.”
Mabel was right. I never talk back to my family.
Monique turned to Mabel, smirking. “Don’t worry. Her tongue will be bridled soon enough. A few lessons here, and she’ll learn what happens to weaklings like her who don’t know their place.”
My gaze remained neutral, though my fingers curled into the fabric of my gown.
That was when my mother finally turned to face me fully, studying me for a moment before speaking again. “I brought you something.”
I frowned slightly as she stepped aside.
From the doorway, another figure entered. A woman-her brown eyes wide with quiet urgency, her dark hair braided neatly over her shoulder.
I inhaled sharply.
Azul.
“I am here to serve you, My Lady.” Azul lowered her head.
For a moment, my mind refused to process it.
Azul was my maidservant from years ago. The one who had taken care of me when I was still the cherished daughter of the Carter family. The only person who had ever shielded me in that house. The one who had been ripped away from me the day the Lunar Curse branded me because my father decided that I didn’t deserve to be waited upon for being useless.
Now, she stood before me, her gaze flickering with emotions she could not express in front of my mother and sisters.
“She will serve you here,” my mother said flatly. “You have no one in this place. Consider this a betrothal gift from me.”
A gift?
A war raged inside me.
I didn’t know what to feel. My mother, the woman who had always been silent in the face of my suffering, had brought back the only person who had ever cared for me.
Why?
I didn’t thank her. I didn’t speak at all because I didn’t know if this was a twisted act of kindness or another form of control.
Before I could sort through my emotions, the sound of bells rang loudly through the estate.
The wedding was starting.
Madame Beatrice stepped forward, offering my mother and sisters a tight-lipped smile. “It’s time to escort the bride.”
My mother didn’t say goodbye. My sisters didn’t offer a final insult. They simply left with Azul.
And then, with Madame Beatrice walking ahead, the servants led me forward.
To my fate.
***Draven***
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