Chapter 3
The corsage felt like a branding iron against my skin. Each step I took toward the ceremony grounds sent fresh waves of agony through my body. The concentrated wolfsbane had already raised angry red blisters on my chest and stomach where the flowers touched my skin.
"You're doing great," I whispered to myself, forcing another smile as pack members nodded respectfully. "Just a little longer."
Luna whimpered inside me. *It burns, Hallie. Let me heal it.*
"Not yet," I murmured, careful to keep my lips from moving too obviously. "We need them to think it's working."
The poison was indeed working—just not as thoroughly as Preston had planned. My Late Bloomer healing abilities fought against the wolfsbane, trying desperately to repair the damaged tissue. But I was deliberately suppressing them, channeling my energy to maintain the appearance of severe weakness.
Preston approached, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "You look pale," he observed, his voice dripping with false concern. "Are you feeling alright?"
I nodded weakly, allowing my knees to buckle slightly. "Just... just a little dizzy," I whispered.
His smile widened fractionally. "The ceremony will be over soon," he promised, writing on his notepad. "Just hold on until then."
I leaned against him, letting him support my weight. Over his shoulder, I caught Adriana watching us, her eyes narrowed with jealousy—and triumph. She thought she'd won.
*Now,* Luna urged. *Let them see how weak we are.*
With a sudden gasp, I collapsed to my knees, clutching at the corsage. My body convulsed realistically as I hit the ground hard.
"Hallie!" Preston's voice held genuine alarm—not from concern for me, but from fear that his plan was being disrupted publicly.
Pack members gathered around, their faces blurring as my vision intentionally clouded over. I felt strong hands lifting me, heard the worried murmurs of the pack healer.
"She needs treatment immediately," someone declared.
"Take her to the sanctuary," Preston ordered, his voice tight with tension. "I'll join you shortly."
---
The healing sanctuary was quiet save for the soft bubbling of medicinal herbs in glass jars. I lay still on the cot, listening to the healer's footsteps fade as she gathered more supplies.
*They're gone,* Luna confirmed. *Now's our chance.*
I sat up slowly, grimacing as the movement pulled at my blisters. The wolfsbane had done real damage—my skin was raw and painful—but nowhere near as bad as I'd let Preston believe.
"I need my emergency fund," I whispered, slipping from the cot.
The sanctuary was located in the east wing of the Pack House, far from the main activity. I moved silently through the dimly lit corridors, my newly enhanced senses alert for any sign of life.
The moonlight streaming through high windows illuminated my path as I crept toward my tiny room. Inside, I retrieved the small box I'd hidden beneath a loose floorboard months ago—my escape fund, gathered from years of saving scraps from my meager allowance.
With the box secured inside my jacket, I turned to leave—and froze. Voices drifted from the chapel across the hall, the pack's most sacred space.
"—can't wait any longer," Preston's voice growled.
"You should be with her," Adriana replied, her tone teasing. "Your poor little Omega needs you."
"She's probably asleep by now," Preston said dismissively. "Besides, I need this."
I moved closer to the partially open door, drawn by morbid curiosity.
Through the gap, I could see them clearly—Preston pressing Adriana against the altar, his hands tangled in her hair as they kissed passionately.
"I've wanted to do this since we were sixteen," he murmured against her throat.
"So why wait?" Adriana laughed softly. "Hallie will never know."
Something broke inside me then—the last fragile thread of loyalty I'd felt toward Preston. Luna howled in betrayal, but there was relief too. Any lingering doubt about my path forward vanished in that moment.
---
I fled blindly into the night, tears streaming down my face. The forest embraced me with its darkness, the rain having finally subsided to a gentle mist.
"Where do we go?" I whispered to Luna.
*Anywhere but here,* she replied fiercely.
I ran until my lungs burned, until the lights of the Pack House were distant pinpricks behind me. Only then did I slow, unsure of which direction to take.
A twig snapped somewhere to my left. I whirled around, heart pounding.
A massive figure emerged from the shadows—tall, broad-shouldered, with eyes that reflected the moonlight like amber fire. Power radiated from him in waves that made the air itself feel heavy.
"Who are you?" I demanded, backing away.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, and suddenly the forest air filled with an intoxicating scent—petrichor and dark cedar, wild and primal.
An electric spark shot down my spine. Luna surged forward with a joyful howl that echoed through my mind.
*MATE,* she cried. *TRUE MATE.*
The stranger's eyes widened, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. "Impossible," he whispered, his voice deep and resonant.
I stood frozen as he reached out one long finger to touch my cheek, his expression a mixture of wonder and disbelief.
"Ambrose," he said simply, as if the name explained everything.
And somehow, it did.
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