Seventy-Seven

Ashanti

Like a bad joke, Seth Darkwood's second attempt at marrying me was inching closer. The festival had spun for two days. The house was decorated elaborately and the feast could feed the whole Lycan pack.

My extended family was here for the traditional pre-wedding party. The maids adorned the hall with marigolds and jasmine. My aunties' outfits were embroidered with gold threads and my uncles were dressed in long togas and joined the feast as the dancing group performed choreographed dances, entertaining the guests.

I was dying inside and didn't know what to do. Now that all eyes were on me and security was extra tight, there was no hope to escape.

I watched my family and the top members of the Lycan community devour spiced lamb kebabs with biryanis infused with saffron, and an array of dishes and desserts.

Everywhere buzzed with excitement and activity. My bitterness grew so big that it almost exploded as I watched everyone have fun. Uncles gathered in the courtyard, playing