Chapter 11
Third-Person POV
Alpha Simon took a step toward the crowd, his instincts prickling. He needed to see what was happening outside.
But Wilona clung to his hand. Tears shimmered
in her eyes.
“Simon, please don’t go,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Today is our wedding. All our friends and packmates are here. If you walk out on me now, I’ll be humiliated in front of
everyone.”
Simon gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll just take a quick look. I’ll be right back. Judy’s always composed-her outburst worries me.
Something doesn’t feel right.”
Wilona’s eyes widened. “And I don’t worry you? I’m dying!”, then she launched into another dramatic coughing fit.
Simon barely glanced at her, “I need to see for
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myself,” .
Because if Judy really was marrying someone else, he knew he’d carry that regret to the
grave.
“I’m coming too,” Wilona declared, latching
onto his arm.
Together, they stepped down from the stage, leaving behind a stunned officiant and a crowd of bewildered guests. A wedding-an Alpha’s wedding-abandoned mid-ceremony? It was unheard of.
Meanwhile, in the hall next door, the tension
was rising.
The appointed time had come and gone. Yet there was still no sign of the groom.
Wolves from the groom’s family whispered apologies to Judy’s family, swearing Alpha Grayson would arrive soon. But murmurs were already stirring among the guests.
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“Maybe Alpha Simon was right,” someone muttered. “This wedding’s just a stunt to provoke him.”
“Which side do we even toast with?” another
asked. “I mean, Alpha Simon’s ceremony has a couple. This side doesn’t even have a groom.”
Wilona, shadowing Simon closely, listened in. A wicked sense of relief bloomed in her chest. No
groom meant no marriage. No need to panic.
Time to strike.
“Miss Judy, you really don’t have to put yourself
through this,” Wilona said sweetly, stepping forward in feigned sympathy. “All this chaos… just to humiliate yourself and Simon in front of everyone. Why?”
Simon’s eyes swept the hall-and his heart settled. There was no groom. No rival Alpha.
Just Judy, standing there alone in her wedding
dress.
He let out a quiet breath. Wilona was right. This had all gone too far.
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“Judy,” he said quietly, “come down. Let’s end
this. Come home with me.”
Judy’s laugh was low and bitter. “Come home? You mean the home you’re about to share with
another Luna? I waited five years, Simon. And this-this farce-is all I got in return.”
Simon’s jaw clenched. “Tell me what you want. Whatever it is-just come back to me.”
Her gaze was sharp. “When my groom walks through those doors and I say my vows to him, then maybe I’ll consider it.”
Simon scoffed. “Judy, stop pretending. There is no groom. If there were, where is he?”
Wilona slipped her fingers into Simon’s hand,
pressing close. “Simon, she’s just trying to rile you up. Let’s go. Let’s not give her the audience
she wants.”
Simon hesitated, then nodded, turning slightly.
But Judy wasn’t done.
“Since you’re already here, Simon,” she called
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out, “why not have a sip of my wedding wine before you leave?”
She stepped off the platform, poured a glass, and offered it to him with a steady hand.
Simon eyed the wine with disdain. “You’re still acting, Judy. If you wanted this to be convincing, maybe hire a stand-in groom.”
Judy didn’t answer. But someone else did.
“What stand-in?”
A deep, gravelly voice echoed across the room.
All heads turned as the double doors swung
open.
A man stepped in-his clothes torn, his boots
caked in dust, and his scent sharp with blood and travel. His presence hit the room like a thunderclap.
Judy’s parents gasped.
“Grayson! You’re finally here!”
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Judy blinked, stunned. The man before her looked nothing like a groom. He was battered, grimy, and clearly fresh off a long journey. Yet beneath the dirt and torn sleeves was a powerful figure-broad-shouldered, upright, and commanding.
She hadn’t expected this.
Her wolf stirred, curious. Despite the grime, despite the chaos, the raw strength in him was impossible to miss.
So this was her groom.
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