Chapter 1
Rebecca's POV
I couldn't contain my excitement as I twirled in front of Sofia's full-length mirror. Even in my lounge pants and oversized t-shirt, I felt beautiful. Tomorrow I'd be in my wedding gown, walking toward William, starting our life together.
"Tomorrow, I'll be Mrs. William Moretti," I said, my voice high with excitement. My heart pounded against my ribs. After five years together, I was finally joining the Silver Moon Pack by marrying one of their future Deltas. The thought made me almost dizzy with happiness.
Sofia stood in the doorway, wine glass in hand, her short black curls messy around her face. Her dark-rimmed eyes watched me with an expression I couldn't quite read.
"You should get some sleep, Rebecca," she said, taking a sip. "Big day tomorrow."
"I'm too excited to sleep," I said, feeling the happiness bubble up inside me. "And it's so stupid that I can't see William tonight. Who actually follows that tradition anymore?" I felt a flash of irritation mingled with longing. I just wanted to be with him.
Sofia made a dismissive sound. "You're marrying into the Silver Moon. They follow traditions that make zero sense to humans like us."
I touched the custom-made wedding dress and felt the smoothness of the silk with my fingertips. William had given me access to a world I'd never imagined I could reach. Even Sofia's place, where I was only staying for tonight, was in a neighborhood I couldn't have afforded on my old teaching assistant salary.
"I still can't believe this is happening," I said quietly, gratitude washing over me. "Five years ago I was drowning in student debt, living in that terrible studio apartment..."
"And now you're marrying up," Sofia finished. There was something sharp in her tone that made my happiness waver for just a moment.
I turned to face her, noticing the frown lines between her eyebrows. "You don't like him, do you?" My stomach tightened with anxiety.
Sofia sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "It's not that I don't like him. It's just... he's a werewolf, and you're human. The Silver Moon Pack isn't exactly friendly to outsiders."
"I'm his destined mate," I said defensively, sitting beside her. I felt protective of our relationship, of the future we'd planned. "And they respect the mate bond—it's sacred to them." I needed her to understand how special this was.
Sofia's expression softened. "I know. It's just their hierarchy... the Alphas, Betas, Deltas... it's all so rigid. I don't want you to get hurt." Genuine concern filled her eyes.
"William would never hurt me," I said with absolute conviction. "And this marriage means I can help my dad with his medical bills." My voice cracked slightly. "No more choosing between treatments and food."
Sofia nodded slowly, raising her glass. "Then here's to you becoming the most beautiful bride tomorrow."
She touched my cheek gently. I smiled to her, then focusing on my wedding checklist instead of the unease her concern had stirred.
---
"Shit, shit, shit," I muttered, dumping the contents of my overnight bag onto the bed for the third time. My pearl necklace wasn't there. My stomach dropped as I checked my wedding checklist app—I'd left it at our apartment after picking it up from the final sizing.
I checked William's social media. He'd posted a gym selfie thirty minutes ago with the caption "Last workout as a free man." The green dot next to his profile picture showed he was still online. He was definitely still at the gym.
Perfect timing. I could slip back to our apartment, grab the necklace, and return before Sofia even noticed I was gone. William had insisted I stay with Sofia tonight—some werewolf tradition about building anticipation—but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
I left a quick note for Sofia, who had fallen asleep after her third glass of wine, and called a rideshare. Twenty minutes later, I stood in front of our luxury high-rise, feeling the warm summer night air on my skin.
The doorman nodded as I entered. This was my life now—access cards, private elevators, people who recognized me. Five years ago, I'd been teaching summer school just to pay rent. Now I was about to move into this luxurious building. Sometimes I still couldn't believe it.
The apartment was quiet when I entered. William's obsessive neatness meant everything was exactly where it should be—spotless countertops, perfectly arranged throw pillows on our leather sofa. I went straight to our bedroom to check my vanity, where I'd last seen the ring box.
It wasn't there. My heart beat faster as I searched the closet, checked drawers, even looked under the bed. Nothing. Where else could it be?
Maybe William's study? I hesitated at the door. William didn't like me going in there without permission. It was his "sanctuary," he always said, where he handled business calls and Pack meetings.
But this was an emergency. I pushed open the door and turned on the light.
The study looked exactly as it always did—leather-bound books he never read, expensive walnut desk, high-backed executive chair that cost more than my first car. I started searching the cabinets where we sometimes kept important items.
As I moved past his desk, I accidentally bumped it. His laptop screen lit up—he hadn't shut it down completely. I was about to turn away when a message caught my eye.
[My darling...]
I froze. William had never called me "darling" in his life. He called me "babe" or sometimes "sweetheart" when he wanted something, but never "darling." I knew I shouldn't look. This was private. But my eyes were already reading the message.
It was an encrypted messaging app I'd never seen before. The contact was just labeled "O." The messages were clearly intimate. The most recent one, sent an hour ago: [Meet me at our usual place after the gym. Can't wait to kiss you.]
My stomach twisted painfully. My hands shaking, I scrolled up through more messages. Each one felt like a slap.
[Don't worry about James's private school tuition. It's been taken care of. Everything continues as normal after the wedding. She'll never know.]
My knees buckled. I scrolled, each message a knife to my chest.James? My mind reeled. Who was James? All I know was that my bridesmaid Olivia had a nephew named James. "O", Olivia. That's it. But Why was William paying for her nephew's tuition?
With trembling hands, I opened the desk drawer. A folder marked “Personal” held dozens of photos—William, Olivia, and a boy who looked too much like them both, James, living a life I'd never known. Smiling on beaches, laughing at ski resorts, cozy in matching pajamas on Christmas morning. Each image was a shard of glass in my heart, slicing through the future I'd built in my mind.
At the bottom, a single report card, crisp and official, bore the boy's name. Tears blurred my eyes, and I pronounced the name in a trembling voice, "James Moretti..."