The bells rang in the distance, their chime ringing through the air, letting everyone and anyone who cared to hear that it was time. Sloane's heart fluttered in her chest as she smoothed down the white dress she wore. Today was the day.
Her reflection stared back at her in the mirror, eyes alight with anticipation. Her long brunette hair was clipped at her back with a few strands let loose, her lips gleamed in a shiny gloss, and gold adorned her neck, hands, and hair. A symbol of her status, of what she was about to become.
Luna.
A nervous thrill coursed through her. This was everything she had ever dreamed of. Ryland would be waiting for her, ready to claim her as his.
The door creaked open behind her, and she turned to see Celeste standing in the doorway.
Her stepsister's gaze swept over her, lips parting slightly. "You look beautiful, Sloane," Celeste murmured, stepping closer.
Sloane smiled shyly. "Thank you, Celeste."
Celeste's expression faltered, just for a second. Her fingers toyed with the lace on her sleeve.
Sloane frowned. "What is it?"
Celeste hesitated, then shook her head. "It's nothing. I just…" She let out a small breath. "I just wish Mom was here to see this."
A lump formed in Sloane's throat. Their mother. She'd died five years ago during a battle. Sloane had never felt pain until that day when the warriors arrived from the battle and her dear mother wasn't amongst them. The pack mourned her loss; that day, they lost a treasure. Vaeloria's head warrior was gone.
Sloane shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat. She reached for Celeste's hand, squeezing gently. "She would have been proud. Of both of us."
Celeste nodded, but her fingers were cold in Sloane's grasp.
Something about her seemed off, but Sloane brushed the feeling away. Today was supposed to be perfect. It would be perfect. She could already imagine it. Ryland waiting at the far end of the hall with a smile while she walked down the aisle. Sloane smiled, caressing her stomach; her bump wasn't pronounced yet, but in a few months, everyone in the pack would come to realize that she was carrying their alpha's baby and heir.
The bell rang loudly again, and Sloane exhaled. "I should go; Ryland is waiting."
Celeste's lips curled into a small smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Right. Of course. I'll walk you to the hall."
Sloane stood at the entrance of the grand hall, her heart pounding as she met Ryland's gaze.
This was it.
The moment she had dreamed of for years. They were finally going to be a family.
Each step down the aisle felt surreal, her pulse thrumming with nervous excitement. Her white silk dress trailed behind her.
She barely registered the faces of the pack members watching her with warmth and admiration. The beta, her father, watched with a proud smile on his face. Sloane couldn't be happier, to know she made him proud.
Her gaze flickered back to Ryland, and she could only see him standing tall at the altar, waiting for her.
But she didn't notice the way his shoulders stiffened.
Didn't realize his eyes weren't on her at all, but on the figure behind her.
When she reached him, she lifted her hands, placing them in his, and the warmth of his skin sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach. This was real.
She was his.
The elder stepped forward, he cleared his throat then raised his hand, signaling the start of the sacred vows.
Sloane's breath hitched as he began to speak.
"On this blessed night, under the eyes of the Moon Goddess, we gather to witness the binding of two souls, two hearts, two wolves destined to walk as one…"
A shiver of anticipation rolled through her as she squeezed Ryland's hands. But his grip felt cold.
Why wasn't he looking at her?
The elder continued, his voice steady,
"As the Alpha and his fated mate stand before us, let it be known that this bond is eternal, unbreakable…"
Sloane's chest ached, her mind already drifting toward the future. She imagined Ryland marking her, the warmth of his lips against her skin. She imagined the two of them with their baby, the one growing inside of her—their pup.
The future was so bright.
"With the blessing of the Goddess, we now begin—"
BOOM.
The doors to the hall exploded open.
Screams tore through the air as dozens—no, hundreds—of pack members flooded into the hall, their voices high with terror.
Sloane gasped, her head snapping toward the commotion. A man shoved past her, blood streaked across his face. A woman sobbed, clutching a child to her chest as she stumbled forward.
The scent of fire hit her first. Then blood.
A roar shook the walls. She barely had time to process it before the first body fell.
Panic surged in her, her lips trembling. "Ryla—" she turned to face him, but he was long gone, her hand hung midway. Ryland was gone.
Sloane's heart pounded hard in her chest, her face ran pale. "Ryland!" She screamed.
A warrior near the entrance crumpled to the floor, a dagger buried deep in his throat. The sound of his body hitting the floor sent a chill up Sloane's spine.
More screams. More bodies. Shadows surged through the open doors—figures dressed in dark, tattered clothing, their eyes gleaming with hunger.
Rogues.