The wedding reception was a lively celebration that felt like a dream come to life. The banquet hall was adorned with twinkling lights, cascading garlands of sunflowers, and tables laden with delicious food. The aroma of roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and sweet desserts filled the air, making my mouth water.
Killian and I made our way to the head table. We were greeted by cheers and laughter from our guests. The pack had truly outdone themselves, preparing an array of dishes to satisfy every palate. There were platters of grilled venison, roasted vegetables seasoned to perfection, hearty stews, and an impressive selection of cheeses and fruits.
After we had greeted a few guests and exchanged pleasantries, Killian leaned close. I could feel his warm breath tickling my ear. “Care to dance with your husband, Mrs. Blackthorne?” he whispered, his voice laced with playful charm.
I smiled, feeling the familiar flutter in my chest. “How could I say no?”
Killian led me to the center of the dance floor, where soft music played. His arms encircled my waist, pulling me close as we swayed to the rhythm. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned down. His lips brushed against my ear. “By the way, are you wearing anything under that dress?” he teased.
My cheeks flushed, and I swatted his arm lightly. “Killian! Behave. We’re surrounded by people.”
He chuckled, his grin wicked. “I can’t help it. You’re irresistible.”
Despite my embarrassment, I couldn’t help but laugh. Killian’s playful nature was one of the many reasons I
loved him.
After a few songs, Alpha Roger approached us, his commanding presence as strong as ever. “Mind if I steal the bride for a dance?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with warmth.
Killian reluctantly released me, though he shot his father a mock glare. “Fine, but don’t keep her too long.” Alpha Roger chuckled and extended his hand to me. “You look radiant, Mira. Killian is a lucky man.”
“Thank you, Alpha Roger,” I replied, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks.
As we danced, he shared light–hearted stories about Killian’s childhood, making me laugh. When the song ended, he placed a fatherly hand on my shoulder. “Welcome to the family, Mira. I wish you a blessed and happy married life.”
“Thank you,” I said sincerely, touched by his kindness.
Dinner was a feast, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the wedding cake when it was brought out. It wa massive, with intricate designs of sunflowers and lace–like frosting that mirrored my dress. It was almost too beautiful to cut into.
Killian couldn’t resist teasing me throughout the meal. “You know,” he said, leaning closer, “the night is just getting started.”
I rolled my eyes, laughing. “Killian, we’re still at the reception. Behave.”
“I’m just saying,” he replied with a smirk, his hand brushing against mine.
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Chapter 93
The laughter and joy were infectious, and I couldn’t imagine a more perfect day–until the unthinkable
happened
A sudden scream pierced the air, shattering the joyous atmosphere. I turned, my heart pounding, to see one of the waiters holding a knife to Luna Marinette’s throat. My blood ran cold as the waiter’s disguise melted away. It was Aaron.
Alpha Roger’s roar echoed through the hall. “Release my wife, or you’ll regret it!” His voice was filled with fury. He was so angry and he clenched his fists.
Aaron’s grip on the knife tightened, his eyes glinting with menace. “Stay back,” he growled, his voice cold. “Or I’ll slit her throat.”
The guards moved to intervene, but Aaron’s voice stopped them in their tracks. “Don’t be foolish. I didn’t
come alone,”
As if on cue, several unfamiliar faces emerged from the crowd. Some shed their disguises as waiters, while others stepped forward from among the guests. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut–Aaron had infiltrated our wedding with his men.
“How could this happen?” I whispered, my voice shaking. The Alpha had assured us that every security measure had been taken. How had Aaron managed to slip through the cracks?
Killian’s grip on my hand tightened, his body tense and ready to fight. His dark eyes burned with fury as he surveyed the scene. “Stay close to me,” he said, his voice low and commanding.
The once joyous celebration had turned into a nightmare, and all I could think about was the knife at Luna Marinette’s throat and the fear in her eyes.
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