The Wedding Broadcast

POV: Arabella

Broken promises ache as badly as hunger. Humiliation stings worse than raw lemon juice poured directly into a fresh paper cut. But this goes beyond physical pain. This betrayal bypasses the lies we were fed and the expectations we were raised to believe. It strikes at the very core of our nature, defying everything that makes us what we are, regardless of our rank or standing within the pack.

I stand isolated on the terrace of the apartment I secured and furnished with my own hands. I spent months preparing this place, picking out the deep mahogany furniture, the soft rugs, and the warm lighting, creating a sanctuary for my mate and me when he returned from his alpha training last year. I had been foolishly excited to reunite with him after we spent our senior year apart. I sacrificed my own ambitions, deliberately walking away from my acceptance to my dream school, compromising my future just to stay here in this city with him.

Through the glass doors, the televised broadcast plays on the large screen in the living room. The volume is low, but the visual shatters my reality with agonizing clarity. My fated, goddess-given mate, Mateo Rossi, is marrying his hand-picked Luna.

Mateo held me in his arms countless times, selling me beautifully constructed lies. He kissed my forehead, looked deep into my eyes, and swore he loved me the way he had promised before leaving for his training. A nagging, intuitive part of me always knew I would be discarded. I knew the clock was ticking down to the full moon on my sixteenth birthday. When that night came, the moonlight washed over me, the pack gathered in anticipation, and nothing happened. I did not shift. No bones broke, no primal power surged through my veins. The silence of my inner wolf was deafening. That singular failure downgraded me instantly. I went from being a respected member of a fiercely strong Beta bloodline to the lowest rank possible—a wolfless omega. I spent days avoiding Mateo after that, trying to deny the harsh reality of my new existence.

Everything had been perfect before that failure. We met the day we both started at Veridia Academy, exactly two years after one of the cruellest rogue attacks in werewolf history. The memory of that night still haunts my nightmares. There were six hundred and eighty-seven casualties. The air tasted of copper and burning wood. I remember dragging Daphne Miller under a reinforced steel desk in the library, pressing my blood-soaked hand over her mouth to muffle her terrified screams. I saved her life while outside in the blood-stained hallways, my own family fought. My parents, strong Beta warriors, were slaughtered defending the pack. I barely survived. I should not have survived. Watching the screen now, I have never wished to have died there more than I wish it today.

My mate has chosen his Luna, and the pack is broadcasting the ceremony for the entire world to see. It is a public declaration that I am not anywhere near enough to stand beside him. His parents meticulously hand-picked Daphne to carry his name, uphold his legacy, and bear his heirs.

On the screen, Daphne looks radiant. She beams with a stolen, luminous joy. The bitter irony burns a hole straight through my chest because she is walking down the aisle wearing the exact custom ivory silk gown with the sweetheart neckline and cathedral train that I had chosen for myself. She wears my dream dress. Her arm loops securely through my mate's arm. They look like the pristine, untouchable perfect match as they walk up the marble steps into the moon goddess temple for their official mating ceremony.

I turn my back on the terrace, walk into the living room, and hit the power button on the remote. The screen goes black, cutting off the cheering crowd. I look down at my phone. A text message sits on the screen, sent by Mateo just minutes before he arrived at the temple.

*This is for the pack. You'll be better protected. You can now study to be a surgeon without the responsibilities of a Luna. I'll never leave you. You're the one I love—my true mate.*

The lies taste like toxic poison in my mouth. A pathetic, cowardly message from a boy too weak to stand up for the mate the goddess chose for him. He desperately insists that this public marriage is merely a political necessity, expecting me to accept a life in the shadows. The sick part is that a small, broken fragment of my heart considers accepting it. I could be his hidden mistress, watching from the sidelines as he builds the life that belongs to me with the very girl I saved from the rogues. I should have left her there to be torn apart.

A desperate urge to flee consumes my thoughts. I want to run away and never look back. I have the means to do it. All I need to do is dial my grandmother in Sweden, tell her I have endured enough, and she would send a car for me in an instant. I know she would. But running away will not solve the underlying problem. Fleeing means abandoning everything I have worked so agonizingly hard to obtain.

Pragmatism anchors my feet to the floor. There are only three months remaining in the academic semester. If I abandon my classes now, I lose all my hard-earned college credits. My GPA will plummet. My dream of becoming a surgeon is the last shred of stability keeping me grounded in reality. This career path is the only thing keeping me going because this festering wound of betrayal, much like the gruesome loss of my family, requires time to heal. I refuse to let Mateo take my education from me too.

I retreat to my home office, seeking refuge among my textbooks and anatomical charts. I spend the next few hours meticulously reviewing my notes for my upcoming biology exam, forcing my brain to focus on cellular structures instead of the mating ceremony.

It is almost eight o'clock when the silence of my sanctuary shatters. My phone rings. The caller ID displays my grandmother's name, GG, alongside a picture of the two of us smiling brightly at my graduation last year.

"Hey, GG," I answer, striving to keep my voice steady.

"Don't hey, GG, me young lady," she says, her voice heavy with her thick Swedish accent and laced with furious, urgent panic. "What is the meaning of this, Arabella?"

"I don't know," I answer honestly, staring blankly at my highlighted notes.

"Did he reject you properly?" she demands, her words clipping the air. "Has he severed the bond formally?"

"No, he doesn't want to. He said that she'd be his Luna only in name. He expects me to stay."

"I want you to pack up immediately and come live with me, Arabella. You need not be where you are not welcome. Why haven't you called to let me know what is happening? I would have sent for you the very second the announcement was made," her tone grows louder, desperate.

"Because you were on important business for the King. I didn't want to bother you with something so trivial," I say, shutting my laptop and closing my notebook with a heavy sigh.

"Trivial? My love, this is not something to be taken lightly. You are in pain, and it will get significantly worse. An unsevered mate bond with a mated alpha is a death sentence for your sanity. It will systematically tear your soul apart. It will feel like a piece of your spirit is rotting inside your chest."

"Please, don't make me feel worse than I already do," I rub my temples, trying to manage her expectations. "I cannot just gather my things and abandon my education. I have school and work. I am not just his discarded mate. I refuse to be a floormat. This is exactly why I didn't call you; I knew you'd demand I come to Sweden immediately. I don't want to lose myself and my future over his betrayal. Leaving is a last resort."

Without warning, the tranquility of my space shatters.

"What do you mean you're leaving as a last resort?"

My head snaps up. Mateo storms into my home office. Panic spikes rapidly in my veins. He is still clad in the very ceremonial suit he wore to marry Daphne. The black velvet jacket, the silver embroidery, the Luna's crest pinned mockingly to his lapel—he brings the wedding directly into my sanctuary.

"GG, I have to go." I break eye contact with Mateo. "I love you."

"Arabella—"

I hang up the phone instantly, cutting off her warning.

Mateo crosses the room in three long strides, his face twisted in disbelief. He grabs the back of my desk chair and pulls it away from the desk, forcing me into the open space. I refuse to meet his gaze.

"I told you that she means nothing to me," he insists, his voice rising. "You're my mate. You're not going anywhere."

I remain silent. I stand up to put space between us, but as I step forward, a sickening, undeniable wave of scent hits my nose. Pomegranate and sweet vanilla. It is Daphne’s scent. It rolls off his ceremonial clothes in thick, suffocating waves, masking his natural cedar smell. My stomach churns with a violent force. The physical evidence of his intimacy with her coats him like a second skin.

I lift my hands and push him hard in the chest.

"I do not want you in my space," I tell him sternly, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. "You are tainting my home with your new wife's scent. I can barely stand the sight of you right now. Get out."

Instead of showing an ounce of remorse, a dark, defensive rage twists his handsome features. His jaw clenches tight.

"You're being so fucking dramatic right now," he growls, taking a step toward me. He attempts to justify his betrayal, his alpha ego incapable of accepting my rejection. "I didn't have a choice, Bells. I'm not doing this to hurt you. I came home to you. You're my mate. You're the one I am in love with. This marriage is for the survival of our pack. You're turning your back on me just to hurt me. You're acting as if I am the one at fault here!"

His possessiveness erupts, filling the small office with an oppressive, suffocating aura.

"You're not leaving me," he snarls, his voice dropping into a dangerous, feral register. "There is not a single place in this world you can run where I won't find you. You run, and you are only going to make things worse for me."

He lunges. His hands shoot out, gripping my bare arms with brutal, unrelenting force. His fingers dig into my flesh, bruising the muscle beneath.

"You're hurting me!" I cry out, desperately trying to pull away from his toxic touch. I plant my feet, twisting my torso, fighting against the overwhelming strength of an alpha.

"Stop fighting me!" he roars.

He shoves me backward with terrifying strength. My feet tangle together. I stumble uncontrollably across the hardwood floor, my arms flailing as I try to catch my balance. The doorframe approaches too fast. My head slams with a sickening, audible crack against the hard metal doorknob.

Blinding pain explodes behind my eyes. A high-pitched ringing fills my ears. Stinging tears blur my vision instantly as my knees buckle. I collapse to the floor, gasping for air, clutching the side of my throbbing head.

Mateo drops down to the floor beside me. The frantic, defensive anger vanishes from his posture. His demeanor shifts into a twisted, abusive calm that chills my blood. His hand hovers over the spot where my head struck the metal.

"Look what you made me do," he whispers dangerously.

"Get away from me," I manage to choke out, trying to scramble backward on my hands and knees.

Before I can move another inch, his hand darts out. His large fingers wrap viciously around my throat. He tightens his grip, instantly cutting off my oxygen. I gasp, my hands flying up to claw at his wrist, my nails digging into his skin, but his hold is like iron.

He hauls me upward, dragging me flush against his solid chest. I am forced to look directly into his face. My heart races in sheer terror. The boy I have loved since I was fourteen years old is gone. Staring back at me is a monstrous stranger. His eyes no longer hold their familiar blue hue; they are glowing a vibrant, demonic red. His inner wolf has surged to the surface, unhinged and violent.

He opens his mouth, and his sharp canines are fully extended. He leans his face into the crook of my neck. I freeze, a whimper trapped in my constricted throat as his fangs graze the sensitive skin where my neck and shoulder meet—the exact spot meant for a mating mark. The threat is clear. He will mark me against my will to bind me to him forever.

He pulls back just enough to cup my face with his free hand, ensuring I am looking directly into his glowing, violent eyes. The sheer terror in my own reflection mirrors back at me. I am pinned down, breathless, utterly powerless against his strength.

"Say it," he orders, his voice vibrating with a monstrous, demanding growl. He requires my absolute submission. "Say you're going to stay, Arabella."

I stare up at him, my lungs burning for air, my vision swimming with black spots. Defiance screams in my mind, but desperation overrides it. Survival instincts kick in.

"Say it!" he bellows at the top of his lungs, the sheer volume rattling the windows of my office.

"I'm going to stay," I choke out. The rancid lie scrapes against my bruised windpipe, tasting like bile and defeat on my tongue.

The moment the words leave my lips, the raging wolf inside him retreats. The terrifying, glowing red drains from his irises, transitioning swiftly back to their soft, baby blue hue. The monstrous alpha vanishes, replaced by the manipulative boy who breaks my heart. His eyes fill with tears.

He finally loosens his bruising grip on my throat. I suck in a ragged, desperate breath, coughing as air rushes back into my lungs. Before I can pull away, he wraps both arms around me, pulling me into a suffocating, inescapable embrace.

"You can't leave," he cries, burying his face in my hair. The smell of Daphne's vanilla scent gags me, but I am trapped in his arms. "You can't leave me. I need you. I need you, Arabella. And you need me. Only I can protect you."

His hands stroke my back, ignoring the trembling of my terrified body. His final words hang in the heavy air of the office, sealing my fate like a life sentence.

"You're mine."