Chapter 3：Ex’s Wedding

Ivy’s POV

I sit naked in the bathtub as the Omega maid scrubs my skin pink, staring straight ahead. 

It’s Veronica and Erick’s wedding day–the day they’ve chosen to solidify my final humiliation. 

The maid gives me one last scrub, hauls me out of the water, wraps me in a towel, and dabs rose oil onto my skin. Wordlessly, she drags me towards my miserable rotting mattress of a bed, where a lacy bra and skimpy miniskirt have been laid out for me. 

I stare at the clothing in shock. “Where’s the rest of it?”

The maid shakes her head sadly.

My stomach plummets. The maid starts to dress me, and I struggle at first, but it’s no use. When the maid is done stuffing me into my clothes–little more than underwear, really–I look into the rusty old mirror before me. As I’m distracted by the plunging scooped neckline of the bra, the maid clamps shackles around my wrists and ankles. 

Even though I’ve already lost touch with my inner wolf thanks to the wolfsbane, it’s not enough.

Veronica never misses a chance to humiliate me. 

By the time I make it into the banquet hall, Veronica and Erick have already wed. 

The moment I walk into the banquet hall, I smell the most wonderful scent. Almost intoxicating–as though it’s drawing me towards something.

But what?

The maid nods once to me, then shuffles off, leaving me standard near the altar. 

Veronica’s gaze lands on me, and her lips twist into a wicked smile. She looks beautiful, which I hate, and the wedding dress she’s wearing looks an awful lot like the one I was supposed to wear. 

I hate her. 

My attention shifts to Erick seated next to her with his arm wrapped around her waist. No matter how much I hate Veronica, Erick is the object of my vengeance. I’ll see him fall by my hand, or I’ll die trying. 

I think Veronica can see the loathing in my gaze, because she taps her knife against her wine glass and stands up, drawing everyone’s attention to her. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have with us Ivy Bell, the daughter of the late Alpha Bradley Bell of the Obsidian pack!” She calls out.

Jeers and whistles fill the room, a mockery of applause. 

“As punishment for her traitorous ways,” Veronica continues, looking at me with a cruel glint in her eyes, “Ivy will be a public maid. Anyone can taste her any time.”

My mouth falls open as the crowd erupts into thunderous applause. A hundred leering eyes slip over me, slimy with their intent.  I want to protest, but I know it’s no use. I need to survive first if I want to ever avenge my father. I look up at my once-best friend’s evil face, anger and fear filling my heart. 

How much more can she do to me?

Whatever aromatherapy they’ve got at this wedding seems to be helping, though. Every time I catch a hint of that wonderful, intoxicating scent, my tense nerves seem to relax a bit.

I spent the rest of the wedding reception pouring drinks. As I do, though, strange men approach me, whistling and running their hands along my body. I shudder, but don’t dare object. It makes me feel sick, though. 

As I pour champagne into a slender flute, a drunk Thunderclaw werewolf walks over to me and wraps his arm around my waist, rough hands wandering over my delicate, exposed skin.

“Hey!” I protest, writhing and struggling to escape. “Don’t touch me!”

“You’re public use, aren’t you?” He murmurs in my ear. The scent of alcohol emanating from him damn almost burns.

He starts to drag me out of the hall. “Let’s go to my room, baby,” he urges. 

“Let go of me!” I snap. 

He laughs, slamming me roughly against the wall and leaning in to kiss me. My stomach drops, I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to dissociate from whatever’s going to happen to me, when–

“Ah!” The werewolf shrieks. 

My eyes snap open just in time to see him get lifted up into the air, neck caught in a chokehold. 

“You… you…” the drunk werewolf struggles to say, but he can barely make a sound. 

I look up to see a tall, handsome man holding my assailant in a chokehold. The stranger is indescribably stunning–his eyes are hazel, almost gold, and shimmer with unknown depths. His hair is tousled and black. He’s dressed in a lean, elegant black suit that does his abundant musculature just about every possible favor. As he studies the guy in his grasp, his jaw is taut, and I can’t help but admire his gorgeous chiseled features. 

He smells just like that wonderful scent in the wedding hall. 

Who is he?

I watch, stunned silent, as the stranger tosses the drunk werewolf aside like he’s trash. He hits the floor with a sickening crunch, sliding several feet along the polished marble until he hits the wall hard. He moans silently, writhing on the floor as though his bones have been broken. 

“Get lost!” The stranger commands. 

My assailant struggles to his feet with great difficulty, glaring resentfully at the stranger before leaving in obvious disgrace. 

I watch him go and exhale a sigh of relief. Once he’s gone, my attention returns to the stranger–my rescuer–with curiosity and caution. He’s not from my pack. I’ve never seen him before. And he has a noble aura that no member of the Thunderclaw pack could ever have. His every move exudes authority, making me want to submit. 

“Thank you,” I whisper quietly.

The stranger stares at me for a long moment, then leaves without a word.

The moment he leaves, the weight of what happened crashes over me. To avoid punishment, I return to the hall. As I do, I can see the drunk werewolf talking to Veronica, who looks at me with hatred. My heart sinks.

She knows. 

Soon, Veronica makes another announcement. “We’ll be selecting some of the maids to send to the Omega Auction,” she says, standing up. Her gaze locks on me. “Including the traitor and ex-Alpha’s daughter, Ivy Bell.”

The hall erupts into murmurs. Shivers arc along my skin. An auction? An Alpha-blooded she-wolf being publicly auctioned at the Omega Auction–it’s a massive humiliation for me as well as my entire pack. 

“Don’t worry,” Veronica says, sauntering over to me and leaning in close. “Alpha S will like you.”

Alpha S?

Who is he?