Chapter 3 The Wedding Invitation

My wolf circled and whimpered inside my mind, chasing her own tail with frantic confusion.

For the most part, she seemed oddly calm-perhaps because Ronan's wolf had soothed her, signaling that everything was under control.

Steadying my hands, I tugged at the bright red bow and lifted the lid slowly.

My heart seized in my chest.

Inside lay a rose‑gold gown, folded with precision. Lying atop it was a silver envelope inscribed in flowing black ink:

Wedding Invitation

Ronan Blackthorn & Talia Montgomery

No... this can't be real. My blood ran cold.

We were pals, maybe a little more on Talia's end-but this? What on earth? He's supposed to be mine-my mate! We were bound to each other.

Why would they dare to plan a wedding when their souls were not intertwined? Why would Ronan agree to this?

In our world, eighteen marked the threshold of adult status.

That's when wolves could recognize their mates. Commonly, there is a slight age difference-nothing strange at all.

The Duskwind Pack had always respected the sanctity of this bond, so when marriage proposals followed friendships, it wasn't shocking.

They were conventional, but not unthinkable.

Talia was barely nineteen, approaching twenty-yet betrothal wasn't unusual for our pack norms.

I raised my head. Talia stood nearby, smiling with hopeful enthusiasm.

Her eyes sparkled-her glow was blinding.

I searched for Ronan in the room. He stood stiffly at the edge, avoiding my gaze. His jaw was rigid, lips sealed, unmoved.

My wolf let out a deep, agonized howl. The world around me blurred. My parents, unaware of the conflict, stood to inspect the invitation.

Their faces lit up and they embraced Talia, showering her with praise. I caught snatches:

> "Ready to become our pack's Luna..."

"We're so proud of you, darling!"

But none of that mattered. I didn't care about positions or pack prestige. I wanted him. Luna be damned.

My gaze pinned on Ronan-my one obsession. I almost wanted to believe he would look remorseful.

But his face was calm. He didn't flinch. It was as though he was unmoved by the wound he was inflicting.

And the worst part? He could feel it all. Every flicker of fury or heartbreak rippling through our shared bond-he felt it.

But he'd severed his end of the connection. I was bleeding feelings, and he simply shut himself off.

"I'd like you to be my maid of honor," Talia's words broke through my daze.

Her voice wavered slightly, pink rose‑cheeks, fingers twisting anxiously. She stared at me, waiting.

Tears spilled. A choked sob escaped me.

"I-I-"

My throat clogged. I couldn't speak. Talia's face fell in confusion and hurt. She'd expected joy, blinding joy.

"Talia, darling. Could you and your mother fetch Kaia some water? Maybe a cool cloth? This is a lot at once-wedding news can be overwhelming." My mother intervened gently.

Talia and my mother rose, hurrying off. I looked toward Ronan and my father-both watching me with uneasy curiosity.

My father's mind‑voice clicked through my bond:

"Kaia, what has happened?"

Silent. I said nothing.

"Ronan," my father began, "you cannot proceed-"

"Beta Bastian, please escort Kaia to my office." Ronan interrupted, his voice calm.

Father looked between us, lips compressed, nodding. With a curt bow, he gestured me to follow.

Beta Bastian was the second‑in‑command-guardian of the Sanctuary.

His expression was stern. With Beta behind me, I walked across the marble‑floored hall, tracing the golden inlay that curved toward the Mooncrest Alpha Sanctuary's offices.

Just as my feet crossed the threshold of the main doors, Ronan's voice drifted down the corridor.

Even in that haze, I craned my neck to see-he was speaking to Talia, offering her the water while the door of the office swung shut behind me.