Fated at the Altar

Freya's POV

Garlands of pale mountain blossoms cascaded from the timber beams above, their petals dusting the floor along a deep crimson trail of crushed roses that cut straight toward the dais.

My father had spared no expense, making certain this union would be etched into the pack’s memory for decades.

The timber hall was packed shoulder to shoulder with towering shifters, the benches overflowing to the point where dozens more stood clustered near the grand double doors just to catch a glimpse.

Down at the altar, Gael kept turning his silver cufflinks over in his fingers, his restlessness showing. His older brothers, Orson and Brant, stood flanked beside him in matching suits to fulfill their duties as best men.

My eyes took in my friend. Gael wore his charcoal three-piece suit with an effortless ease, accented by polished formal shoes and a neat navy silk tie. His sun-bleached hair was slicked back without a stray strand, though his brow remained locked in a tense, brooding furrow. This sham union weighed on him as much as it did on me, but true to form, he would never leave me stranded.

Opposite them waited my cousins, Daphne and Nadine, their floor-length navy gowns brushing the platform steps as they held compact bundles of cream garden roses.

"Maisie do their hair this morning, too?" I murmured without turning my head.

"She handled the whole bridal party," my father answered.

"She really outdid herself."

"No argument here," he agreed quietly.

The moment Gael’s gaze drifted toward the entryway and caught sight of me, his fingers dropped from his sleeves. He went completely motionless. He blinked once, twice, his mouth parting slightly before he caught himself and smoothed his features into an open grin.

*Holy shit,* his voice sounded directly across our mental link. *You look drop-dead gorgeous.*

His reaction drew an instant wave of attention, prompting several nearby rows of wolves to pivot their heads in our direction.

A flush crept up the back of my neck, and I bit the inside of my cheek, hating the sudden spotlight.

*You're not looking too rough yourself, Beta,* I tossed back dryly.

*I have to admit, standing up there next to you feels like an honor,* he said, the amusement clear in his posture.

My father let out a quiet chuckle at my side, evidently pleased with the stir we were causing.

"Seems your little transformation took everyone off guard," he murmured with obvious pride. "You ought to put on a dress more often."

I cut him a sharp glance, blowing out an irritated breath. That was entirely unfair; I dressed for formal pack business whenever duty demanded it.

*He isn't wrong, though,* Lyra chimed in from the back of my mind. *You look striking. Maisie really worked a miracle on you. Everyone is going to hold you to this standard now.*

*They can keep dreaming,* I thought back.

A prolonged, ceremonial wolf howl ripped through the vaulted hall, signaling the rite's official commencement, and my father extended his forearm to guide me down the aisle.

The curtain was going up. Whatever came next, I was ready to pay the price to keep my pack secure.

We took our first synchronized steps forward, but barely five paces onto the rose petals, a rich, heady aroma slammed straight into my senses. Thick golden honey and raw, intoxicating bourbon vanilla hit the back of my throat like liquid warmth.

The sheer potency of the scent staggered my momentum, slowing my feet against the stone. It wrapped around my instincts, making my mouth water with an unbearable craving.

*Mate!* Lyra roared, lunging forward with enough force to nearly rip my mental grip away. My shoulders locked rigid, my chest constricting as my breath caught in my throat. I dug my heels in internally, shoving her back into the shadows.

*Our mate is standing right here!* she snarled, clawing at my ribs with frantic desperation. *Go to him! Find him right now!*

Why on earth today? Why in this room, under the eyes of every allied pack in the territory?

Was the Moon Goddess punishing me for orchestrating this farce, or was the universe just that cruel?

"You getting cold feet, sweetheart?" my father asked under his breath, his sharp senses clearly registering the hitch in my stride.

I kept my chin level, refusing to meet his gaze directly.

"Not at all," I lied through my teeth, while every nerve in my skin felt like it was on fire.

"You know you can walk away right now if you aren't certain about Gael," he added, his tone softening with paternal warmth.

A faint, bitter smile touched my mouth. My father had always granted me that leeway, even when pack politics demanded otherwise.

"I know the two of you have been inseparable since childhood," he continued quietly, keeping our pace slow. "Even so, I never truly anticipated seeing you two exchange vows at this altar."

Neither had I. It had never been on my radar until survival forced our hand.

"And besides," he murmured, his gaze cutting sideways toward me, "there's still Alpha Kaelen to consider..."

A venomous growl tore through Lyra at the sound of the bastard’s name. Kaelen had brought nothing but misery and humiliation to our bond, and I refused to let that rot touch me again.

The memory of the rainy night he cast me aside flared behind my eyes without warning. The downpour had been relentless, soaking through my clothes while an icy numbness spread from the center of my chest—the hollow ache of our severed bond gnawing away at my insides like an infection.

Lyra had been inconsolable back then, shattered far worse than I was. She couldn't comprehend why he had chosen an ordinary pack omega over his true destined partner.

She had whimpered and begged, pleading with me to swallow my pride, turn around, and plead for our bond.

Looking back, the humiliation of giving in to her desperation still burned.

We had slipped past the border patrols of the Blood Roar Pack under the cover of night, easily bypassing their relaxed sentries to reach Kaelen's private quarters. But before I could even touch the handle, heavy panting and rough, guttural groans had filtered through the wood.

He had company. Was it his precious chosen mate?

The ache in my ribs flared hot and sickening, but Lyra had stubbornly refused to retreat, demanding we assert our claim.

Swallowing down the bile rising in my throat, I had slowly nudged the oak door inward. An unfamiliar she-wolf's musk hung thick in the air, smothering Kaelen's crisp forest scent.

Every instinct urged me to turn on my heel and flee, but Lyra's stubborn grip held our feet rooted to the floorboards as the rhythmic, brutal slam of skin against skin grew louder.

The heavy wooden headboard hammered violently against the drywall, freezing me where I stood.

I had felt her spirit shatter into jagged fragments right then, yet she still took another trembling step inside, ignoring the sickening cadence echoing through the dark bedroom.

My hands flew up to cover my mouth when the sight fully registered. Kaelen’s broad, sweat-sheened back rose and fell as his trousers sat bunched uselessly around his ankles. He was hammering relentlessly into an auburn-haired she-wolf who was propped up on all fours across the mattress, her hips tilted high to take every inch of his brutal thrusts.

"Yes... ahh!" the woman had keened, her voice hitching with lewd pleasure. "Deeper, Alpha! Fill me completely. Please... don't you dare stop!"

He wasn't even screwing the little chosen mate he had supposedly forsaken me for. It was just a random pack female he had dragged into his bed.

Was that the kind of pathetic life I had nearly begged to endure?

I slammed a heavy mental door on the memory, purging the image from my mind before it could poison me any further.

"I'm completely fine, Dad," I stated, my voice steady and firm as I reassured him.

I was thoroughly done expending breath or energy on an arrogant, deceitful brute who believed every female existed for his pleasure. Once the vows were spoken today, he could go find another naive body to waste his time on.

My father gave an approving nod, and we moved through the final stretch of the aisle. Beneath lowered lashes, my eyes scanned the sea of formal dress coats, desperate to pinpoint the wolf radiating that intoxicating blend of raw vanilla and sweet honeycomb.

My gaze inadvertently snagged on Kaelen, seated alongside his Beta near the aisle in the third row. His handsome, chiseled face was twisted into a dark, suffocating grimace of unbridled rage as he tracked my approach.

*Look at the audacity of that bastard sitting there,* Lyra spat, the hackles along her spectral spine standing on end.

*Father had to extend the formal invitations to all bordering territories,* I replied internally. *Hard to believe I ever thought he was worth looking at.*

*He better keep his mouth shut today,* she snarled.

*Father took no chances on that,* I countered. *The perimeter enforcers have direct orders to drop anyone who steps out of line.*

We reached the foot of the raised stone platform, and my father halted, extending his hand to Gael, who stepped down to meet him.

"You keep my daughter safe, and you treat her with the utmost honor," my father instructed, his Alpha timber dropping low enough to carry an undeniable threat. "Understood?"

Gael’s eyes widened, his spine locking rigid as he swallowed against an audible lump in his throat. I had to press my lips together to swallow down a smirk.

Gael had always walked on eggshells around my father’s lethal temper, and for good reason.

I was an only child, not by choice, but because a vicious rogue raid years ago had left my mother unable to carry another litter.

She had been carrying me when the assault occurred, and my father had nearly watched us both bleed out on the forest floor. He rarely spoke of it, but my mother once told me how near he came to losing his mind that night.

"Without question, Alpha," Gael responded, his voice catching slightly before he steadied himself. "I will protect her with my life. You have my word on that."

"Then you have my blessing," my father murmured. He leaned in, placing a brief, warm kiss against my cheek, before transferring my hand into Gael’s firm grip.

The elder clearing his throat signaled the start of the ceremony, immediately launching into a long, dry discourse regarding the sacred weight of lifelong partnerships. I tuned him out within seconds. I had never had the patience for ceremonial rhetoric.

The white-haired wolf droned on about duty and unity, completely oblivious to the fact that Gael and I had no intention of consummating anything. I would never ask my best friend to cross that boundary.

*You aren't absorbing a single word the elder is preaching, are you?* Gael’s voice broke into my thoughts.

*I'm listening just fine,* I shot back through the link.

*Like hell you are,* he countered.

*You calling me dishonest, Beta?* I arched an eyebrow, tilting my head slightly toward him without breaking our stance.

*Maybe a little. Or definitely. Take your pick,* he replied.

*Pick one and stick to it,* I said, narrowing my eyes.

*You're staring straight through the man,* Gael observed, his golden eyes flicking down at my profile. *You're spaced out even worse than usual.*

*That's because I've got a damn good reason to be,* I admitted, looking back toward the podium.

The scent was driving me mad. The lingering trace of warm vanilla and raw honey sat heavily on my tongue, making my throat tighten with an ache to track it down.

What pack did he hail from? What did he look like?

A cold pang clamped around my chest. Several long minutes had already slipped by, and whoever the Goddess had chosen for me hadn't so much as shifted in his seat to contest the union.

Was the man a coward, or was he entirely content to watch another wolf claim his rightful mate?

*What's really going on?* Gael probed, noticing the tension bleeding through our link. *Are you panicking?*

*No,* I confessed quietly. *My true mate is sitting in this room right now.*

"What?" Gael gasped aloud.

The word ripped through the quiet hall, cutting the elder off mid-sentence. An immediate flurry of uneasy whispers and rustling fabric broke out across the seated rows behind us.

I whipped my head toward Gael, burning a hole through his skull with a glare lethal enough to drop an elk, before snapping a pleasant, polished smile toward the bewildered officiant.

"My apologies, Elder," I said smoothly. "Everything is perfectly fine. Please proceed."

The older wolf peered over the rim of his spectacles, his sharp gaze searching between the two of us. "Are we prepared to continue, Beta Gael?"

Gael opened his mouth, glancing down at me with pure panic swimming in his irises.

*Don't you dare ruin this,* I growled fiercely across our link. *Don't you dare say a single word.*

"Yes, Elder," Gael managed, smoothing his expression. "Please, go on."

"Very well," the elder muttered, adjusting his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose and shuffling through his parchment. "Now, where were we..."

*Freya, this is insane. We need to call a halt to this right now,* Gael pressed urgently in my head. *Your mate is going to be ruined if we complete the rites—*

*If he actually wants to claim me, he has two legs and a voice,* I snapped back, my bruised pride flaring hot.

*Right,* Gael muttered back, a flicker of nervous humor breaking through. *Drag you over his shoulder and claim you by force, is that the fantasy?*

*It means that's how I'll know he actually gives a damn,* I told him coldly. *Yet he hasn't lifted a single finger to halt this altar.*

*He might just be trying to read the situation,* Gael reasoned gently. *Maybe he carries old scars. Maybe he's been thrown away before, just like you were.*

*Maybe,* I replied, letting out a faint, ragged breath between my teeth.

The thick scent of honey and warm vanilla hung over the air, mockingly near yet impossibly distant. Standing on that dais, watching my true fated partner remain utterly motionless while I gave myself away to another male, cut far deeper than Kaelen’s rejection ever had.