At The Wedding, My Alpha Took Off My Wedding Dress For His Mistress

I was adjusting the hem of my dress when Alpha Fabian walked in.

My white gown shimmered under the dressing room lights, the fabric hugging my figure perfectly. In just a few minutes, I’d walk down the aisle and officially become Luna of the Silver Claw Pack.

Everything was perfect.

Until I saw his face.

"Salena, I..."

Fabian’s voice wavered—and that was odd.

I turned, smiling, reaching for his hand. "Why is the Alpha more nervous than the bride? Don't tell me you're going to cry from excitement later."

Normally, he’d roll his eyes and smirk, maybe pull me in close and whisper something entirely inappropriate for a pre-wedding conversation.

But not this time.

His usual sharp, confident aura was replaced by something… hesitant.

“What’s wrong?” My stomach tightened as I smoothed my dress. “Did something happen at the wedding?”

When I tried to step past him, he grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

His fingers were warm, but his grip was tight—like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go.

I frowned. “Fabian?”

A long pause.

Then, finally, he met my gaze.

"Salena, Yolanda... she's terminally ill."

My breath hitched.

Yolanda Porter.

His childhood friend.

His beautiful, always conveniently present childhood friend.

The same Yolanda who had spent years lurking in the background, reminding everyone how she and Fabian grew up together, how they understood each other in a way I never could.

The same Yolanda who had smiled sweetly in public and sabotaged me in private.

She had been my biggest thorn, never missing a chance to remind me that I wasn’t worthy of the Silver Claw Pack’s Luna.

But I had won.

I had Fabian.

And now—

I swallowed hard. “She’s sick?”

Fabian nodded, jaw clenched. "She doesn’t have much time left."

A strange mix of emotions twisted in my chest.

Guilt? No—why should I feel guilty?

Jealousy? Maybe.

Fear?

Definitely.

Because I knew that look in Fabian’s eyes.

I’d seen it before.

"I only see her as a sister," he’d told me a hundred times, exasperated, brushing off my concerns.

It wasn’t until his birthday this year, when Alpha Fabian proposed to me, that Yolanda finally faded from our lives.

"Yolanda has a terminal illness?"

I blinked up at Alpha Fabian, my fingers instinctively tightening around the fabric of my wedding dress.

My wolf stirred, sensing the tension radiating from my mate, but I didn’t panic. Not yet.

"That doesn’t mean you need to rush to the hospital right now, does it?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even. "The wedding starts in ten minutes—"

Fabian cut me off, his voice urgent.

"Yolanda is already here. She said..."

A pause.

I folded my arms. "What did she say?"

He exhaled, rubbing his temple. "She said she’s never been in a relationship her whole life and wants to experience being a bride... before she passes away."

Silence.

The kind that made my wolf growl low in warning.

Sadness filled Fabian’s dark, stormy eyes, his tone so reverent it was as if Yolanda had ascended straight into sainthood.

Meanwhile, I sat down, slowly, like a queen lowering herself onto her throne, staring at him.

"Don’t tell me she expects you to ditch our wedding and take her to a bridal shop?"

Fabian shook his head.

I sighed in relief.

For a moment, I thought the little green tea snake had finally grown some self-awareness.

Then, Fabian opened his mouth again.

"There’s no time to go outside. Salena, why don’t you lend your wedding dress to Yolanda?"

A bolt of lightning crashed through my brain.

I stared at him.

Did my Alpha mate just get possessed by sheer stupidity?

"What, is she not going to survive until tomorrow? Or have all the bridal shops in the city suddenly gone out of business, leaving her no options but to take the dress right off my back?"

"Salena."

Fabian’s face darkened, his eyes filled with disappointment—like I was the unreasonable one.

"Yolanda is already so pitiful. Why would you curse her like that?"

I laughed in disbelief, standing so fast my chair scraped against the floor.

"Alpha Fabian, did a door slam on your head? Or did you hit it against the packhouse walls for fun? She’s terminally ill, and you think lending her my wedding dress is going to cure her?"

I placed a hand over my chest dramatically.

"What, is my dress some kind of divine elixir? More effective than a healer? Will she ascend straight to the Moon Goddess in couture?"

My wolf was practically snarling inside my mind, tail flicking in rage.

"Yolanda has spent years using these little tricks to pull you away, and I let it go before. But today is our wedding day—do you understand what those words mean?"

My breath was shaky, but my tone was firm.

Fabian, however, wasn’t listening.

Instead, his expression grew even colder.

"Salena, I never expected you to be such a heartless person."

And then he looked at me—no, through me.

Like I was nothing. Like I was a burden instead of his mate.

My wolf fell silent.

And just like that, the bond that once made my heart race with love... felt like a chain tightening around my throat.