“The ceremony starts in five minutes. Where do you think you’re going, Diana?”
My hand tightened into a fist. I met her with a flat stare. “My legs are under my own body. I’ll go wherever I want. Mind your own business.”
Sara’s smile hardened. “You’d better put that dress back on. If you ruin the ceremony, you won’t be able to shoulder the consequences.”
She shoved me. Not hard, but hard enough. The shove tasted like challenge.
Ever since I shifted at eighteen and joined the Lycan Guardians Alliance, I’ve trained day and night under the command of my instructors. The pride etched into my very bones never allowed me to yield.
“What if I refuse?” I said.
That question rippled through the dressing room. Gasps, whispers, a string of audible judgments.
“Did you hear that? She dared talk back to Sara! She won’t last in L.A. if she’s this bold.”
“It’s just a consummation contract. What’s the big deal? If she makes the Alpha angry, she’s the one who’ll lose out.”
To them, marrying into Moonshadow was every woman’s dream. Even if it means raising the Alpha’s illegitimate put, they don’t care.
The more they talked, the prouder Sara’s face became. They thought they had me boxed.
“Did you hear that? A trophy wife with neither strength nor background, and she still dares to talk about dignity — are you out of your mind?”
I didn’t care about their jeers; I almost wanted to laugh. In Los Angeles, the Moonshadow Pack was indeed wealthy enough to be called an elite family. But compared to my Ashenclaw Pack, they were nothing but a pebble against a boulder. No amount of money is more than a cold string of numbers in the face of absolute power.
“Sara, I’ll warn you one last time — get out of my way, or bear the consequences!” I snapped.
Maybe my sudden surge of presence startled her; Sara froze, clearly at a loss.
“All right, all right, you little bitch— you actually dare threaten me? I… I’m calling Alpha Logan right now!” she stammered.
I spread my hands in a carefree gesture.
“Do as you please.”