This was it.
The moment Sloane had dreamed of for years. Ryland and she were finally going to be a family.
"Are you ready, Sloane?" Her sister Celeste said, and she nodded with a smile.
She barely registered the faces of the pack members watching her. The beta, her father, watched with a proud smile on his face. Sloane couldn't be happier, knowing she made him proud.
Her gaze flickered back to Ryland, and she could only see him standing tall at the altar, waiting for her.
But she didn't notice the way his shoulders stiffened.
She didn't realize his eyes weren't on her at all, but on the figure behind her.
When she reached him, she lifted her hands, placing them in his, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. This was real.
She was his.
The elder stepped forward, cleared his throat, then raised his hand, signaling the start of the sacred vows.
"On this blessed night, under the eyes of the Moon Goddess, we gather to witness the binding of two souls, two hearts, two wolves destined to walk as one…"
Sloane shivered in anticipation, she squeezed Ryland's hands. But his grip felt cold.
Why wasn't he looking at her?
The elder continued, "As the Alpha and his fated mate stand before us, let it be known that this bond is eternal, unbreakable…"
Sloane's mind was already drifting toward the future. She imagined Ryland marking her. She imagined the two of them with their baby, the one growing inside of her… their pup. The future was so bright.
"With the blessing of the Goddess, we now begin—"
BOOM.
The doors to the hall exploded open.
Screams tore through the air as dozens—no, hundreds of pack members flooded into the hall screaming.
Sloane gasped, her head snapping toward the commotion. A man shoved past her, blood splashed across his face. A woman sobbed, clutching a child to her chest as she stumbled forward.
The scent of fire hit her first. Then blood.
Panic surged in her, her lips trembling. "Ryla—" she turned to face him, her hand hung midway. Ryland was gone.
Sloane's heart pounded hard in her chest, her face pale. "Ryland!" She screamed.
A warrior near the entrance fell to the floor, a dagger buried deep in his throat. The sound of his body hitting the floor sent a chill up Sloane's spine.
More screams. More bodies. Shadows surged through the open doors, figures dressed in black, tattered clothing, their eyes shining with hunger.
Rogues.
~~~~~~~~~
Smoke filled the air, turning every breath into a struggle. Sloane shoved past panicked pack members, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Screams echoed from every direction, but she could only hear one thing… her own voice.
"Ryland!" She screamed.
Her eyes darted around, searching for him. The pack hall, once filled with people smiling and staring at her, had now become a battlefield. Warriors clashed with the rogues, blood filled the floor like a stream. Bodies lay still, unmoving.
The fire spread fast, burning the wooden doors and tables.
She had to get out.
No. She had to find Ryland.
Sloane turned sharply, nearly colliding with a woman carrying a whimpering child. She grabbed the woman's arm. "Have you seen Ryland?"
The woman's eyes were wide with fear. "I-I don't know!" she stammered before running toward the exit.
A sharp crack split the air, and part of the ceiling collapsed, Sloane stumbled backward, shielding her face from the heat. Her lungs burned, her vision blurred with smoke.
Then, she heard it a cry.
Weak and muffled, coming from somewhere beyond the flames. Sloane's chest tightened. She turned toward the sound, her heart seizing when she saw her.
Celeste.
Her sister was trapped under a fallen beam, her face streaked with tears, her dress torn. She clutched at the debris pinning her legs, struggling, her sobs barely audible over the chaos.
Sloane's body moved before her mind could catch up. She dropped to her knees beside Celeste, gripping the beam, muscles straining as she tried to lift it.
"It's okay," she choked out. "I've got you."
Celeste's tear-filled eyes met hers. "Sloane, I-I-can't move…."
"You will," Sloane gritted, forcing her fingers under the burning-hot wood, ignoring the pain. She had to get Celeste out. She had to.
The heat pressed against her back, stealing what little air remained. Sloane gritted her teeth, using every ounce of strength to lift it. It barely budged.
Celeste let out a sob, eyes squeezed shut. "I don't….I don't want to die here."
"You won't," Sloane rasped. "I won't let you."
She adjusted her grip, bracing her feet against the ground, when a burning rafter above them snapped, and before Sloane could react, it came crashing down.
She flinched, expecting impact, expecting pain, but instead, the beam that had trapped Celeste was struck, breaking apart, freeing her.
Celeste gasped, scrambling back, no longer pinned. Sloane exhaled in relief, until she realized she was the one now trapped.
A sharp pain shot through her leg. When she looked down, horror filled her. A piece of debris had landed across her lower body, pinning her in place.
No, no, no. Not like this.
Celeste was free. But Sloane… she couldn't move. The fire was closer, its heat licking at her skin.
Her lungs ached, and her vision blurred.
She was going to die here.
A sob tore from her throat. She'd never reach Ryland. She'd never give birth to their child.
Her baby.
A strangled cry left her lips as she clawed at the debris, her strength fading, her body trembling violently as she pressed a shaking hand to her stomach.
She barely registered the sound of rushed desperate footsteps, someone rushed in through the thick smoke, and she saw him. Her heart clenched.
"Ryland…" she choked out. He was here. He will save her.
With what little strength she had left, she lifted her hand weakly, reaching for him.
Ryland's gaze landed on her, his face pale as he took in the sight of her. The blood staining her dress. The wreckage trapping her in place.
His jaw tightened.
For a second, a fleeting second… Sloane thought he was going to come for her.
But then his eyes shifted past her.
To the figure behind her. Celeste.
The fear in his face melted away, his eyes no longer filled with shock or fear. Only relief.
Ryland rushed forward, brushing past Sloane like she was nothing.
Like she didn't exist.
Sloane's breath caught as she watched him drop to his knees in front of Celeste, his hands cupping her face, his touch so gentle, as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
"I'm here. I've got you," he murmured. His voice filled with warmth. Love.
Her chest ached, the pain worse than the fire surrounding her.
Ryland's hands trembled as he pulled Celeste close. "I won't let anything happen to you," he vowed. "I should have chosen you from the start."
Sloane's throat tightened.
No.
No, this wasn't real. This wasn't happening.
Her lips parted, her voice weak, desperate. "Ryland… please…"
He didn't even glance at her. Didn't acknowledge the mate he'd abandoned, the child they had created together.
Didn't see the way her fingers clawed at the ground, reaching for him, pleading for him.
Instead, he swept Celeste into his arms, like she was his entire world.
Sloane's vision blurred, her strength fading, but she tried one last time, her voice nothing more than a broken whisper.
"Ryland… our baby…"
That made him pause.
For a moment, hope flared in her chest.
Then he looked at her—only briefly, his gaze flickering to the blood that trickled down her legs.
He turned away without a second glance.
Sloane's lips trembled, a wrenching sob escaping her as she watched Ryland walk out of the burning hall. Celeste clung to him, like he was her salvation.
And Sloane…..
Sloane was left to die.