Moonchild

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Temple Madison

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

Billionaires Revenge Kickass Heroine Revenge Female-centered Ex-wife

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Elvira

I gasped for air, my throat burning as if I'd been screaming for hours. My wrists ached, the sharp bite of metal digging into my skin. I tried to move, but the clinking of chains told me I was trapped.

Where am I? It was dark, cold and suffocating.

The air smelled damp, like decay. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I struggled to piece together my last memory. Wolfbane.....I had been sent to Elder Marwen's hut to retrieve the sacred vial that would seal my mate bond with Alpha Deric of Shadowfang Pack. I remembered the excitement thrumming in my veins, Deric and I had exchanged letters for months, planning this day.

My eighteenth birthday. The day I would finally meet my mate. But I never made it back.

I clenched my fists, wincing at the sting of cuts and bruises. My body ached, throbbing with pain I couldn't remember earning. Something wasn't right. How did I end up here? Suddenly, I heard muffled voices above me. The steady sound of a crowd. A ceremony.

My blood ran cold. A pack gathering? But why? I strained to listen, my body frozen in fear. Then, a familiar voice echoed through a microphone, clear and triumphant.

Felen, my stepmother.

"Tonight, we celebrate the sacred union between Shadowfang Pack and Bloodmoon Pack! A bond sealed by the Moon Goddess herself. Let us welcome Elyra to the stage!"

My breath caught in my throat. No. That wasn't my name.

I struggled against the chains, my pulse hammering. Someone else was taking my place. Someone was pretending to be me.

"NO!" I tried to scream, but my voice was weak, barely audible. My throat was raw, my body too battered to fight.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold back the panic climbing its way up my chest. How? How did this happen? Tears burned the back of my eyes as another name was called.

"Alpha Deric!"

A roar of approval followed. The mate bond flared inside me, hot and stinging, only to be replaced by a searing agony that shattered through my soul. My mate was bonding with someone else. The connection was breaking. My body convulsed, my bones aching as if they were about to snap under the weight of betrayal.

And still, no one heard me. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, but the pain was unbearable. Every second felt like my soul was being ripped from my body. I wasn't just forgotten; someone trapped me here to take my place.

Twelve Hours Ago.....

"Please, can I send Martha instead? The tailor called me earlier for the final fitting," I asked, keeping my voice careful, measured.

Felen stilled, then slowly lifted her gaze to me.

"Say that again," she murmured.

I hesitated. "I'm sorry-I just thought-"

Her hand shot out, grabbing my chin, forcing me to look at her. Her nails bit into my skin.

"You thought?" she repeated, her voice steel. "And who told you you were even allowed to question me, Elvira?"

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