I’m half tempted to rip this dress off and take my chances with the wild forest that surrounds this god-forsaken town. But the Alpha’s warning still rings in my ears, slicing up and down my spine until my stomach lurches in protest. I might actually be sick in this dress. Which might not be a bad idea. Knowing Ezra, however, a ruined dress wouldn’t stop him from forcing me down that aisle.
“Stop moving,” Madalynn growls, pins tucked between her teeth. It’s the morning of the wedding and she’s finishing up the last touches of the dress. When she’d told me she’d actually sewn it herself, I was both impressed and wary. It’s no Vivienne Westwood, but it isn’t terrible, either.
White leaves and vines creep up from my waist, swirling over my breasts to the edges of my shoulders. My chest is ba
