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1470 Words
The hall erupted the moment the officiant spoke those final words. Cheers exploded through the space like a wave crashing over us. Guests rose from their seats, clapping and whistling. Cameras flashed brightly enough to turn the room into a field of stars. The chanting of Chase’s name echoed against the marble walls as the crowd pushed closer for a better view of the newly bonded pair.
I kept my face lowered beneath the veil, but my heart hammered so loudly I wondered if anyone else could hear it. My hands were shaking so badly I had to curl my fingers to keep them from trembling visibly. I could barely breathe.
Because beneath all the noise, beneath all the lights and celebration, there was only one truth I could feel.
Terror.
Pure, bone deep terror.
I waved weakly when Chase lifted our joined hands toward the crowd, his expression staying effortlessly composed, almost stoic. He looked comfortable, powerful, completely unfazed by the thousands of eyes watching him.
Meanwhile I felt like I was seconds away from fainting.
The flashes were too bright. The cheers too loud. The bond mark on my palm burned faintly beneath my glove, as if reminding me of the lie sealed there. O moon goddess, please let them find Cassandra before tonight. Please let her return so this can be undone. Please let me escape before Chase removes the veil and sees the wrong sister beneath it.
I forced myself to breathe as Chase led me down the steps of the altar. His hand wrapped around mine like an anchor, steady and unyielding. With every step, the crowd seemed to get louder. The excitement rolled through the hall like a storm.
Chase leaned slightly closer to me when the media pushed forward for closer shots.
“Stay beside me,” he murmured quietly.
I nodded even though my throat felt too tight to speak. His voice vibrated through me, low and controlled. My pulse jumped at the sound. I was not supposed to react like this. He was not my mate. He was not mine. This was not my marriage.
Somehow, my feet moved. Somehow, I did not collapse. The cheers chased us all the way to the double doors leading into the reception area. The room was just as grand, filled with glittering lights and elegantly decorated tables. The scent of food drifted through the air.
But all I could think about was how his hand felt wrapped around mine.
Warm. Steady. Strong.
And worse… familiar.
As we walked, I felt something that made my breath stutter. A strange pull. A quiet hum under my skin, like a line of invisible energy linking me to him. It started at my palm and traveled up my arm to my chest.
It felt like connection.
Like recognition.
Like something ancient awakening inside both of us.
How could that be?
We were not fated mates. I was not chosen for him by the moon goddess. Cassandra was the one who had been meant for him. Cassandra had been the one spoken about in the rumors, the one he was destined to claim, the one the packs believed he would bond with.
So why did my heart feel like it was trying to reach for him?
Why did the magic in the rope earlier hesitate before accepting me?
Why did my chest tighten every time he drew closer?
The feeling scared me enough that I pulled slightly back out of instinct. Chase noticed. His hand tightened around mine almost instantly, not painfully, but enough to pull me gently closer again.
“You are safe,” he said, his voice so soft no one else could hear. “Stay with me.”
I almost tripped.
He was trying to comfort me.
He thought I was nervous. He thought I was Cassandra. He thought the trembling in my hand was because my wedding day overwhelmed me.
If only he knew the truth.
He led us to our seats at the head table. The crowd applauded as we appeared, everyone eager to see the perfect couple. Everyone worshipping the story of Alpha Chase Valtor and his stunning bride. They saw perfection. They saw destiny. They saw history.
I saw disaster.
I barely had time to breathe before the lights dimmed and the announcer stepped onto the stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, it is time for the bride and groom to share their first dance as a bonded pair.”
My heart froze.
The dance.
The slow, intimate wedding dance every bride dreamed about.
A dance where Chase would hold me close. A dance where his face would be inches from mine. A dance where any wrong move could expose everything.
I felt the blood drain from my face. My fingers twitched, and my shoulders stiffened.
Chase noticed.
Of course he did.
He turned slightly in his chair, his dark eyes studying me beneath the veil. His brows drew together, just barely, but enough to show he sensed something was wrong.
“Are you alright?” he asked in a low voice.
No.
I was not alright.
I was about to dance in front of thousands of people while pretending to be someone else.
“I… I am fine,” I whispered weakly.
My voice was barely more than a breath. He heard it anyway.
His expression softened the smallest amount. He stood and extended his hand to me.
“Come,” he said. “I will not let you fall. Just follow my lead.”
The words hit me with a strange warmth. It almost felt like he was seeing me, not Cassandra. It almost felt like he cared. That was dangerous. Reckless. Impossible.
I rose on shaky legs and placed my hand in his. He guided me gently to the dance floor. The lights dimmed to a soft golden hue. The music swelled, slow and emotional. The crowd quieted in anticipation.
Chase stepped close, sliding one strong hand to my waist, his touch warm even through the layers of fabric. I felt breathless. His other hand held mine with calm authority. I lifted my chin slightly as the music carried us into the first steps.
His movements were steady and controlled. He guided me with such precision that I barely had to think. My body simply followed his. The world around us blurred into warm lights and soft music.
And then something unbelievable happened.
The electrical sensation returned.
It traveled from our joined hands into my arm and rushed through my entire body like a silent spark. A tingling warmth spread through my chest. My heartbeat reacted instantly. It felt like my wolf — hidden, timid, neglected — stirred from deep inside me.
It felt like instinct.
Recognition.
Bonding.
No.
No.
That was impossible.
My breath shook. I tried to hide it. Chase’s hand tightened slightly against my waist, grounding me, steadying me as if he sensed the tremor.
Our bodies moved together with a strange, perfect harmony. It did not feel rehearsed. It did not feel forced. It felt natural. It felt right. Too right.
My chest tightened painfully with something that felt like longing. I had seen Chase from afar my whole life. He was the unreachable Alpha. The admired captain. The strong, grumpy, cold hero the world adored.
Never in a thousand years did I imagine I would be held in his arms. Never did I imagine he would look at me with a softness that made my entire world tilt.
Why did it feel like this?
Why did this dance feel like a dream I had no right to dream?
With each step, the world fell away until it felt like it was only the two of us left on the floor. My nerves eased slightly under his presence. I felt strangely secure, wrapped in his warmth, guided by his strength.
I should not feel like this.
I should not want this moment to last.
I should not wish he would pull me closer.
But I did.
The song came to an end. The lights brightened. The crowd burst into cheers. Chase stepped back slightly but did not release my hand. He turned to face the guests, nodding politely as they continued applauding.
I tried to step away, but he gently drew me back to his side.
The connection hummed softly between us, confusing and terrifying all at once.
I was not his bride.
I was not his mate.
I was not Cassandra.
So why did being in his arms feel so real?
Why did it feel like something inside him recognized something inside me?
And why did some reckless, hidden part of me wish the night would never end?
Because when Chase held me, for a moment… I forgot I was a replacement.
- Writer
