Chapter 13 — The Invitation Meant to Wound
1166 Words
The invitation arrived in a heavy envelope.
Gold-embossed. Perfumed. Arrogant.
Ariella recognized Seraphine’s handwriting instantly—elegant curves meant to impress, meant to remind.
Her sister was getting married.
To an Alpha.
Ariella stared at the card for a long time. The words blurred, then sharpened again.
You are invited.
Not because she was wanted.
But because she was needed.
Needed as a comparison.
Needed as a lesson.
Needed as humiliation dressed in courtesy.
She almost didn’t go.
Almost.
But something inside her—older, steadier—refused to hide.
The wedding was nothing like Ariella’s had been.
It was loud. Grand. Overwhelming. Chandeliers of crystal fire hung from the ceiling, pack banners draped like trophies along the walls. Alphas from neighboring territories arrived in regal attire, their auras pressing down like invisible weight. Wolves bowed. Whispered. Admired.
Power celebrated power.
Seraphine was radiant.
Draped in silk and jewels, her hair adorned with the mark of an Alpha’s chosen mate. She laughed easily, basking in attention, her hand always resting possessively on her new husband’s arm—like a reminder to everyone present that she had won.
And when Ariella entered—
The whispers changed.
“That’s her.”
“The abandoned one.”
“The girl whose groom never came.”
“Why would she show her face?”
Ariella felt every gaze like a blade scraping skin from bone.
But she did not lower her head.
She wore a simple dress. No jewels. No pack colors. Nothing to compete—nothing to apologize for. Her posture was calm. Her eyes steady. Her steps unhurried.
That alone unsettled them.
Her mother saw her first.
The woman’s lips pressed into a thin line of irritation, as if Ariella’s presence itself was an inconvenience.
“You came,” her mother said flatly, eyes scanning Ariella from head to toe. “I thought you’d have the decency to stay away.”
Her father didn’t even look at her properly. “Try not to embarrass us,” he muttered. “This day isn’t about you.”
It never had been.
Seraphine noticed then.
Her smile tightened—sharp, pleased, calculating.
She crossed the hall deliberately, making sure others followed with their eyes.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Seraphine said sweetly, loud enough for nearby guests to hear. “After… everything.”
Ariella met her gaze. “You invited me.”
A pause.
Seraphine laughed lightly, as if Ariella had made a joke. “Of course. Family should witness real happiness.”
The word real was deliberate. Surgical.
Their mother nodded in agreement. “You should learn from your sister,” she added coldly. “Some women know how to keep an Alpha.”
A few guests chuckled.
“And don’t worry,” Seraphine continued, circling Ariella like a predator. “My Alpha doesn’t disappear. He understands duty. Commitment.”
A ripple of laughter followed—louder this time.
Ariella’s chest tightened.
Her wolf stirred—old pain, old shame clawing at the surface.
But she didn’t react.
She didn’t flinch.
“I’m glad for you,” Ariella said quietly. “Truly.”
The sincerity threw Seraphine off balance for half a heartbeat.
Recovering, she leaned closer, lowering her voice just enough to be cruel. “You should be grateful I even invited you. At least people will see what happens to women no one chooses.”
Her father finally looked at Ariella then. His eyes were empty. “Stand properly,” he snapped. “You’re making people uncomfortable.”
Ariella straightened anyway—not because he told her to, but because she chose to.
Seraphine’s Alpha husband arrived then—tall, commanding, powerful. His presence silenced the room. Pride gleamed in Seraphine’s eyes as she took his arm, pressing herself against him possessively.
“You see,” Seraphine whispered, close enough that only Ariella could hear, “this is what happens when a woman is worthy.”
Ariella looked at them both.
And smiled.
“Then I hope,” she said softly, gently, “that he never makes you feel unwanted.”
Seraphine froze.
Because that wasn’t envy.
That was pity.
Real. Unmistakable. Devastating.
The ceremony continued in all its grandeur, but something had shifted.
Ariella sat among strangers—alone, unclaimed, uncelebrated.
Yet unbroken.
The laughter didn’t pierce her the way it once would have. The comparisons no longer hollowed her out.
She had already survived worse than whispers and mockery.
She had survived abandonment. Betrayal. Silence.
As Seraphine was crowned as an Alpha’s mate, applause thundered through the hall.
Ariella clapped too.
Not loudly.
Not bitterly.
But with the calm of someone who knew—
Being chosen by power was not the same as being chosen by truth.
And as she stood to leave, head high, heart scarred but steady, Ariella realized something quietly powerful:
This wedding was meant to break her.
Instead—
It exposed them.
And proved how far she had come.
The corridors behind the ceremonial hall were quieter. Dimmer. The laughter from the celebration faded into a dull echo—like a heartbeat slowing after exertion.
Ariella was almost at the exit when fingers wrapped around her wrist.
Hard.
She didn’t gasp. She didn’t pull away.
She turned.
Seraphine’s smile was gone.
Her eyes burned—bright, furious, unraveling. “Don’t look at me like that.”
Ariella tilted her head slightly. “Like what?”
“That look,” Seraphine hissed. “Like you’re above this. Like you’re above me.”
Ariella glanced down at Seraphine’s grip, then back to her face. Calm. Unafraid. “You’re hurting me.”
“Good,” Seraphine snapped. “You should hurt. You deserve to hurt.”
Her voice trembled now, the polished control cracking. “Do you know how long I waited for this day? For everyone to finally see me—respect me—choose me?”
Ariella said nothing.
That silence—always that silence—drove Seraphine mad.
“You ruined it,” Seraphine whispered harshly. “With that smile. With that pity. You had no right.”
Ariella’s voice was soft. “If you’re truly happy, Seraphine… why do I still matter this much?”
The words landed like a slap.
Seraphine’s grip loosened—not from mercy, but shock.
“Don’t pretend you’re wise now,” she spat. “You’re nothing. You always were. Mother said it. Father knew it. Even the Moon rejected you.”
Ariella finally pulled her hand free—not violently. Not angrily.
Deliberately.
“You needed me to stay broken,” Ariella said quietly. “Because if I wasn’t… then what does that say about you?”
Seraphine’s breath hitched.
For one terrifying moment, it looked like she might strike her.
Instead, she laughed—sharp, hollow. “Leave,” she said. “Before I forget I’m an Alpha’s mate now.”
Ariella met her gaze one last time. “I hope that title keeps you warm at night.”
She turned away.
- Writer
