Forsaken by My Mate, Chosen by the Tyrant

Isabella POV:

I stood in front of the massive oak doors of the Silvercrest Pack cathedral, surrounded by tens of thousands of white roses, and dragged in a deep breath to slow my racing heart.

Two burly pack Warriors gripped the brass handles and pushed the heavy double doors open. Blinding morning sunlight and the booming chords of a pipe organ poured over me at the same time.

I glanced down at my hands. The custom white lace long gloves hid the ugly, twisted silver-blade scars on my wrists completely. In werewolf society, silver is our only fatal weakness, leaving burns that not even our rapid healing can erase.

At the far end of the red carpet, Darrin Tanner stood waiting in a sharp black custom tuxedo. A white rose matching my bouquet was pinned to his lapel, and his burning gaze was locked right on me.

As the young Alpha of the Silvercrest Pack and my childhood sweetheart, he didn't wait at the altar like protocol demanded. Instead, he strode down the marble steps, took my hand gently, and pressed a warm kiss to my fingertips right through the lace.

"Bella, you look so stunning today my wolf is shaking," he murmured, keeping his voice low enough for only the two of us to hear.

I smiled back, feeling the scorching heat radiating from his palm. That was the raw vitality of an Alpha, and for the past four years since my wrists were ruined, he had been my only pillar of support.

We walked side by side toward the altar. On both sides of the aisle, high-ranking Pack executives and Elders watched us with respect and blessing.

The officiating Elder held up a ceremonial silver chalice symbolizing the Moon Goddess-strictly for show, kept safely away from our skin-and declared that we would now bind our sacred Mate-bond.

Darrin turned to face me, staring deeply into my eyes. His gaze was filled with the fierce heat of a male about to complete the permanent Marking on my neck.

He raised his hand and brushed his thumb softly across my cheek. My blood warmed and hummed under my skin at his touch.

"I, Darrin Tanner, Alpha of the Silvercrest Pack, swear to the Moon Goddess to stay loyal to my Luna forever," he vowed, his deep voice echoing through the hall's speakers.

It was my turn. I parted my lips, ready to speak the vows I had practiced a thousand times.

Bang!

The heavy side door of the cathedral flew open and slammed against the stone wall, shattering the sacred quiet.

I whipped my head around. Past the rows of standing guests, a small dark figure broke through the outer ring of security guards.

A boy about five years old, wearing a worn-out jacket two sizes too big, stumbled and sprinted wildly down the red carpet.

Darrin's hand froze against my cheek. The next second, he yanked his fingers back as if my skin had shocked him.

The little boy fell hard at the base of the altar steps. Ignoring his scraped knees, he lunged forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Darrin's leg.

"Alpha Daddy! Save Mommy!" the boy screamed, his shrill cries bouncing off the high dome and hitting everyone in the hall like a thunderclap.

The crowd erupted into chaos. Loud whispers drowned out the fading organ music, and hundreds of shocked gazes hit the three of us like spotlights.

A loud ringing filled my ears. My mind went completely blank, and an invisible, freezing hand squeezed my heart so hard I couldn't draw a breath.

"What... did you call him?" I stared at the boy's light chestnut hair-the exact same shade as Darrin's-my voice shaking so badly it didn't sound like mine.

The boy snapped his head toward me and glared with pure hostility, his dark brown eyes flashing with the feral nature of a werewolf pup.

All the blood drained from Darrin's face. He didn't look at me. Instead, he bent down in a panic and tried to pry the boy's small fingers off his tuxedo pants.

"Leo, why are you here? Where is your mom?" Darrin asked, his voice thick with undeniable panic and familiarity.

That familiar tone hit my eardrums like a bucket of ice water. He didn't just know this kid; he said his name like he called it every day.

"Mommy is bleeding so much! Aunt Darcie said she's dying! Daddy, hurry and save her!" Leo bawled at the top of his lungs.

At the words "bleeding" and "dying," Darrin's tall frame jolted. His terrifying Alpha aura burst out of him in a wave of lost control.

Standing right beside him, the crushing pressure of his Dominion hit my chest and forced me half a step back. My knees buckled, and I nearly fell onto the hard marble steps.

I reached out to grab his sleeve to steady myself, but he spun around to scoop the boy into his arms, leaving my hand clutching empty air.

I stumbled and caught my balance, looking past his broad shoulder toward the shadows of the side door, where Darcie Tanner stood pale and trembling.

She was Darrin's cousin. She was gasping for air, refusing to meet my eyes as she stared fixedly at Darrin.

"It's Brandon..." My dry voice cracked through the tense air like a death sentence.

Brandon was his savior. Darrin's arms tightened around the child. He finally turned his head to look at me, and the eyes that usually held only my reflection were now overflowing with panic and guilt.

He didn't deny it. His silence crushed my last bit of hope and ground my pride into the dust right on the wedding altar.