*Saoirse*
I hesitated at the grand hall's entrance, my breath catching in my throat. The silk of my wedding gown felt like chains, each embroidered flower a link binding me to a fate I had never chosen.
With every step forward, the heavy skirts whispered against the stone floor, narrating my reluctant approach toward Alpha Aleric. But it wasn't his imposing figure that froze my heart. It was Rhys, bound and bruised, a captive audience to my despair.
"Rhys?" The word escaped my lips like a ghost, faint and disbelieving. How could he be here? His hair fell in disarray over his forehead, a stark contrast to the bright, hopeful day when we were meant to be wed—a day he vanished without a word.
As if drawn by an invisible thread, my hand came to rest upon the gentle swell of my lower belly.
