My Alpha Slept With My Maid of Honor, So I Gave His Brother My Wedding Night

The sky was still a bruised, pre-dawn gray when I slipped through the servant entrance of the packhouse.

Cold mist clung to my bare arms. I pulled the torn remnants of my white gown tight against my chest, shivering as every step sent a dull ache through my hips. My thighs were sore, marked with dark bruises from the stranger’s iron grip.

I hurried up the back stairwell, praying I wouldn't run into any early-morning cleaning staff. When I finally reached my bedroom, I locked the heavy oak door behind me and sank against the wood, my chest heaving.

The vanity mirror caught my reflection. My hair was a tangled mess, my lips were swollen, and red marks bloomed across my neck. The hem of the silk dress was shredded and stained with dirt from the utility room floor.

I reached up with trembling fingers, unclasped the silver pendant Marcus had given me for our sixteenth birthdays, and threw it onto the marble vanity. The metal clattered against the stone with a sharp, hollow ring.

*It was the heat,* I told myself, staring at my reflection with a tight throat. *Just the dormant heat and Marcus’s betrayal.*

Twenty-six years of waiting, of playing the sweet, untouched future Luna, and it had taken one stranger in a pitch-black room to burn it all to ash. I scrubbed at my neck with the back of my hand, but the foreign cedar scent wouldn't fade. It didn't matter. The man was a rogue, a hunted ghost. He was probably already beyond the pack borders.

I would never see him again. I would pack my bags, take my inheritance, and leave this territory before sunrise.

The heavy door handle rattled violently, followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock.

Before I could move toward the bathroom, the door flew open. Marcus stepped into the room, his tie undone and his collar open. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with red.

He didn't look at my torn dress with concern. He didn't ask if I was all right.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Marcus demanded, shutting the door hard behind him.

I stared at him, stunned. "What I've done?"

"The media team was broadcasting live to seven allied packs," he snapped, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "You walked a camera operator straight into the groomsmen suite, Elena! The feed was live for forty seconds before the director cut the signal. Do you know what kind of humiliation the Blackwood family is dealing with right now? The council elders have been screaming at my father since midnight!"

A bitter laugh broke from my throat. "You were fucking my maid of honor in the lingerie I bought for our wedding night, and you're yelling at me about camera feeds?"

"You struck me!" Marcus pointed an accusing finger at my face, stepping closer. "In front of the production crew. You slapped the future Alpha of this pack. You could have pulled me aside. You could have handled this with dignity, behind closed doors."

"Dignity?" The rage inside me surged hot and sharp. "You gave up every right to talk about dignity the second you shoved Serena onto that dresser."

Marcus let out a heavy breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he looked back up, his expression shifted into something resembling rehearsed remorse.

"Fine. I crossed a line. I admit that," he said, holding up his hands. "It was stupid, Elena. It was just physical—stress relief before taking over the Alpha title today. You were always so rigid about waiting until the ceremony, and I made a mistake. But it meant nothing. Serena is nothing. You are the woman I've chosen for ten years. You're the one who is going to be my Luna."

He reached out, his voice softening into the smooth, persuasive cadence he used to win over pack councilmen. "We'll issue a statement. We'll say the broadcast was an edited rehearsal prank, push the mating ceremony back by three days, and hold a private banquet to smooth things over with the elders. We can still fix this."

"Push it back?" I whispered, looking at him as if seeing a monster for the first time. "You think I'm going to marry you in three days?"

"Elena, be reasonable," Marcus said, stepping into my personal space and reaching to wrap his arms around my shoulders. "We have ten years invested in this. I'm willing to overlook your little tantrum if you—"

He stopped dead.

His hands froze inches from my arms. His nostrils flared, his pupils contracting into sharp, dark slits as he pulled in a deep breath.

The lingering scent of cedar, ozone, and dominant Alpha hit him like a physical blow.

Marcus’s face twisted in violent disgust. His gaze dropped to my throat, zeroing in on the dark bruises covering my collarbone, then down to the torn fabric around my breasts and hips.

"What is that?" his voice dropped into a dangerous, ragged growl.

I didn't answer.

Marcus lunged forward, grabbing my wrist with enough force to bruise. "Who the fuck touched you?"

"Get your hands off me!" I yelled, trying to twist out of his grip.

"You smell like another Alpha!" Marcus bellowed, his composure shattering as he shook my arm. "You've been gone for five hours! Who were you with? Who was in this room with you?"

The sheer hypocrisy of it turned my stomach.

"You think you own me?" I used my free hand to rip the silver Luna crest from my waistline, hurling the heavy metal plate straight at his chest. It struck his sternum with a dull thud. "You spent months fucking my best friend behind my back, and you think you get to demand an explanation from me?"

"You are my promised mate!" Marcus roared, his chest heaving with fury. "You don't get to lay with someone else while wearing my ring!"

"I'm not your mate," I said, my voice dropping to an icy, unshakable calm. "I am nothing to you. The wedding isn't postponed, Marcus. It's canceled. We are done."

Before he could grab me again, I shoved him back with all the strength in my body and slammed the master bathroom door shut, locking the brass deadbolt from the inside.

* * *

RONAN'S POV

In the lower level of the east wing, the utility room was freezing.

Ronan opened his eyes on the narrow cot, his wolf immediately alert to the absolute silence around him.

The cot was empty beside him.

He sat up, rolling his broad shoulders as the faint morning light filtered through the small ventilation grate near the ceiling. The cold concrete floor was littered with shredded scraps of white satin and torn lace.

He reached down, picking up a torn strip of bridal lace that lay on the edge of the mattress. Bringing it to his face, he caught the faint, lingering sweetness of an Omega who had just spent her first heat in his arms.

She had vanished without a trace, moving like a shadow while he slept.

Ronan stood up, pulled on his black tactical shirt, and slipped his leather jacket over his shoulders. He adjusted the concealed blade at his waist, unlocked the heavy utility door, and stepped out into the quiet service corridor.

Around the corner near the armory, two young pack enforcers were leaning against the wall, holding cups of coffee.

"The Alpha is furious," one whispered. "Marcus’s wedding got completely blown up on the live stream. Future Luna caught him red-handed with Serena in the groomsmen suite."

"No wonder she ran," the second guard chuckled quietly. "Word is, she vanished into the lower grounds right after she clocked him in the jaw. Marcus has half the patrol searching the perimeter, thinking she got kidnapped by rogues."

Ronan halted in the shadows, his fingers closing tightly around the torn piece of white lace in his pocket.

The bride who had begged him to ruin her in the dark wasn't just a random she-wolf running from an argument.

She was Marcus's bride. His younger brother's promised Luna.