Chapter 1
On my wedding day, the wolf guards barred me from the Moon Temple, where I was supposed to become Luna.
Ronan Greymark's voice came through our mind-link.
He was my fated mate, the Alpha of the Frostridge Pack.
"Let Talia go in first. Wait in the side hall for 20 minutes."
I stood before the sealed temple doors, wondering if I had misheard him.
The two guards at the entrance kept their eyes down, unable to look at me. Silver wolf badges I had designed for the wedding gleamed on their chests, but their arms still blocked the doorway, keeping the real bride from setting foot inside.
"Why?" I asked.
"Talia has sworn off marriage. She'll never accept any werewolf's mark," Ronan said calmly. "She told me her father's greatest regret was dying before he could see her as a bride. With the anniversary of his death coming up, she just wants to know what it feels like to have a wedding. Once she's made her entrance and taken some pictures, you can come in."
Talia Calder's father, Garrick Calder, had been an elder of the Frostridge Pack.
Seven years ago, when Ronan had just become Alpha, rogues ambushed the pack in Blackstone Valley. Garrick took a claw coated in silver poison for him. His dying request was simple: take care of his only daughter.
Ronan had been doing that ever since.
When Talia was afraid, he stayed with her. When she caused trouble, he cleaned it up. And when she decided she never wanted to marry, he indulged her by turning our wedding into her playground.
I forced down the agitation surging through my wolf. "Come outside. We'll talk face-to-face."
"The ceremony has already started."
"You can stop my wedding for her, but you can't spare one minute to come out and talk to me?"
A beat of silence passed through the link. Then Ronan answered as if I were the unreasonable one, "This is the only time she'll ever get to do this. The wedding will continue as planned when she comes out. You'll be the only Luna of Frostridge, so why fight her over 20 minutes?"
"Because today was supposed to be my wedding."
The temple door suddenly cracked open.
Clad in my silver-white gown, Talia stood in the moonstone corridor, the fabric flowing around her like a pool of liquid light. She turned and smiled. "Ronan, is my veil crooked?"
"No." Ronan reached up to adjust the comb in her hair. His voice was far gentler than it had been with me. "You look beautiful."
It was the first time I had ever seen Silver Moon on another woman.
I had been designing wedding gowns since I was 16. My mother taught me to distinguish different fabrics, and my father cleared a space for my first cutting table in the old Moonbay Pack council hall.
Over the years, I built Maeve Arden, a bridal empire in the North that wore my name like a signature, but Silver Moon was one design I had never revealed to the public.
I had taken my measurements 27 times and sewn on all 3,100 moonlight pearls by hand. Inside the lining, I had embroidered words known only to Ronan and me:
Through every long night and every hunting season, I'll follow your scent home.
It wasn't a sample gown for anyone to try on.
Before I could speak, Ronan cut our mind-link.
A photo immediately appeared in the guests' group chat. Ronan was straightening Talia's veil as she held his arm.
Talia: Thank you to my Alpha for indulging me, and thank you to Maeve for lending me her wedding.
The chat erupted.
A: The Alpha treats Elder Garrick's daughter so well.
B: The two of you look more like the real Alpha and Luna.
C: Even a fated mate can't always compete with a bond forged in childhood.
When Ronan finally responded, it was only to write:
Ronan: Don't joke about that. You'll embarrass Talia.
He cared about embarrassing her, yet no one asked whether the woman barred from her own wedding might be humiliated.
I photographed the official schedule in my hand and posted it in the chat.
Maeve: No need to thank me. I never agreed to lend you my wedding or my gown.
The chat went silent.
Thirty seconds later, Talia replied.
Talia: I'm sorry. I didn't know you would actually mind. I'll take it off now and give the wedding back to you.
Ronan's voice slammed into my mind.
"Delete that message," he ordered. "You made Talia cry."
"Then tell her to come out. Didn't she say she was giving it back?"
"Maeve, her father died for me and for the entire Frostridge Pack. It's only 20 minutes. Can't you let her have this one thing?"
"What about my dignity?"
"You're my fated mate, and you're the only one who'll become Luna. Why are you making such a big deal out of a performance?"
Why was I expected to give way every time just because I would be his fated mate? And why was it always forgivable just because Talia would never have that title, no matter how far she crossed the line?
The scrying pool in the side hall reflected the scene in the main temple.
Talia stood beneath the lunar-dome ceiling I had personally chosen for the wedding and lifted her skirt as she approached Ronan.
When she complained it was too heavy, he bent down before the entire pack and spread it out for her himself.
Once he finished, she raised her glass toward my side of the scrying pool and smiled.
The musicians began playing Moonrise Over the Wilds. Seven years ago, when Ronan found me in Moonbay territory, it had been the first song played beside the bonfire. He had promised it would be performed once more, at our wedding.
That was when I realized Talia had never wanted to borrow just 20 minutes.
