The air in the reception hall turned frigid, the kind of cold that didn't just touch your skin but seeped into your marrow. Bella stood frozen, her pulse thundering in her ears like a rhythmic warning. Collins—her Alpha Daddy, her nightmare in a tailored suit—stood there with a casual, predatory grace that made the grand room feel like a cage.
"Bella," Collins said, his voice smooth as silk and just as dangerous. "You look like you've seen a ghost. That isn’t any way to greet your Alpha Daddy."
Bella felt a wave of nausea roll over her. The term made her skin crawl, bringing back flashes of her mother’s desperate, submissive whimpers behind closed doors. She felt Ethan shift beside her, his entire body coiling like a spring.
"Step-father," Bella corrected, her voice trembling but sharp.
