Chapter 244

Chapter 244
Elsa

"You knew I would." I couldn't help the small smile that curved my lips, my pulse racing at his touch. "Though a little fucking warning would have been nice. I almost forgot today was the day."

His fingers tightened around mine. "I knew you'd get cold feet if I gave you too much time to think." His thumb brushed over the moonstone ring. "That's why I gave you this—insurance."

"You're an asshole," I said without heat, playfully shoving his chest.

"And yet here you are." His eyes glinted with amusement and something deeper, more possessive. "Ready to become my wife."

Around us, people were openly gawking now. Mrs. Parker from next door whispered to her husband, both stealing glances at Drake's imposing figure and our matching white outfits. I squirmed under their scrutiny, fidgeting with the hem of my dress.

"Everyone's staring," I murmured, ducking my head.

"Let them." Drake opened the passenger door with a fluid movement. "They should see what an Alpha looks like when he claims what's his."

In the car, I noticed a large bouquet of silver moonflowers in the backseat—the traditional wedding flower for werewolves. Their delicate metallic petals caught the light, filling the car with their subtle, intoxicating scent. I reached back to touch one petal, marveling at its silky texture.

"You look beautiful," Drake said as he slid into the driver's seat. "Even better than I imagined."

I touched the soft fabric of the dress, my cheeks flushing. "Isn't this a bit much for the registry office? I feel like I'm playing dress-up."

"Nothing is too much for this day." Drake reached over, his fingers brushing my cheek. I shivered involuntarily at his touch. "And I'm not talking about the dress."

My heart stuttered in my chest, and I crossed my legs tightly, trying to steady myself. "I can't believe we're actually doing this."

"Believe it." His hand moved to my nape, drawing me closer, fingers tangling in my hair. "And don't you dare throw these flowers away. Not like you did with the last ones I gave you."

"That was different," I protested weakly, my breath coming faster. "I was angry then."

"And now?" His face was inches from mine, his alpha scent enveloping me, making my head swim and my thighs clench.

"Now I'm..." I searched for the word, licking my suddenly dry lips. Terrified? Exhilarated? "...yours."

Something primal and satisfied flashed in his eyes before he closed the distance between us. The kiss was possessive, demanding, a seal on the promise we were about to make. I melted against him, my hand finding his chest, fingers curling into the expensive fabric, feeling the powerful heartbeat beneath.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes had darkened to that dangerous amber color that signaled his wolf was close to the surface. I was breathless, dizzy with want.

"We should go," I whispered, my voice embarrassingly husky. "Before you wrinkle my dress."

A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. "I plan to do more than wrinkle it later, Mrs. Stone."

The title sent a shiver down my spine. "I'm not Mrs. Stone yet," I countered, trying to regain some composure as I smoothed my hair.

"Technicality." He started the engine, the car purring to life. "A few signatures will fix that."

As we pulled away from my apartment, a sudden thought struck me. I twisted in my seat to face him. "Does your family know? About us getting married today?"

Drake's profile remained impassive. "They'll know soon enough."

"You're seriously going with 'better to ask forgiveness than permission'? With your family?" I couldn't hide my incredulity, my hands gesturing wildly. "You're the heir to the pack leadership, for fuck's sake!"

"Which means I make my own decisions." His tone was firm but not harsh. "Including who I marry."

I bit my lip, remembering the rumors Sophia had shared. My foot tapped nervously against the floorboard. "Do you know someone named Chloe?"

Drake frowned slightly. "Chloe? No, why?"

I hesitated, picking at my thumbnail. "Just something Sophia mentioned. A pregnant woman who might be connected to your stepmother, Miranda." I watched his expression carefully. "Sophia thinks Miranda might have been behind what happened to my mother."

Drake's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "We'll discuss this later. Today is about us."

I nodded, deciding to let it go for now. There would be time for family conspiracies after we'd signed our marriage certificate. I leaned back against the leather seat, trying to calm my racing thoughts. Today, for once, I would focus on the happiness budding inside me, fragile and new.

As we drove toward the city center, I felt strangely calm despite the butterflies still fluttering in my stomach. My fingers absently traced the outline of the moonstone on my ring. Whatever came next—pack politics, family drama, the merging of our complicated lives—we would face it together.

---

The next day, I stirred my coffee slowly, watching the cream create a mesmerizing spiral as I waited for Miranda to arrive. My fingers tapped nervously against the wooden table, and I caught myself checking the door for the fifth time in two minutes.

The bell above the door chimed. Miranda Stone glided in, her ash-blonde hair perfectly styled, designer purse hanging from her elbow. I straightened my spine instinctively, my stomach clenching with an emotion I couldn't quite name—suspicion mixed with a strange, nauseating dread.

"Elsa, darling," Miranda cooed, approaching my table. Her smile appeared genuine, warm even, as she bent to kiss my cheek. The expensive perfume she wore enveloped me—subtle jasmine with undertones of something darker. "I'm so delighted you called."

I forced a polite smile, my jaw tight enough to crack a walnut. "Thank you for coming, Miranda."

She settled into the chair across from me, removing her gloves finger by finger. "I ordered your favorite tea," I said, gesturing to the steaming cup. Another perfect smile flashed across her face.

"How thoughtful." She wrapped her manicured hands around the cup. "Now, what was so urgent that we needed to meet right away? Is everything alright with your mother?"

I took a deep breath, fingers curling into fists beneath the table. "I wanted to tell you personally—Drake and I are getting married. We registered our marriage yesterday."

Miranda's eyes widened, her teacup freezing halfway to her lips. For a split second, something flickered across her face—displeasure, perhaps alarm—before her features rearranged into delight.

"Oh, my dear!" She set down her cup and reached across the table, taking my hand in hers. Her grip was unexpectedly firm. "That's wonderful news! Though I must say, rather sudden, isn't it?"