The grand hall of the Steel Pack’s estate glittered under crystal chandeliers, but the light felt cold on Faith’s skin. Hundreds of werewolves in fine suits and shimmering gowns watched her walk down the aisle like a lamb led to s*******r. White roses and black silk draped every surface, beautiful in a ruthless, calculated way. No laughter, no teary-eyed family. Only her mother and father sat stiffly in the front row, their faces pale with relief and guilt.
Faith’s dress clung to her curves—a sleek white gown with a deep neckline and lace sleeves that whispered against her arms. It had been chosen for her, of course. Everything here was chosen for her.
Alpha Ronan Steel waited at the end of the aisle, devastating in a tailored black tuxedo that strained across his broad chest and shoulde
