“If anyone has a reason to stop this marriage, may he speak now or forever remain silent.” The bishop addressed the crowd inside the cathedral.

After a minute of silence, the bishop decided to proceed since no one talked.

Amelia let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Something unceasingly in her mind keeps telling that something is about to go wrong somewhere. She just hopes it’s all part of the wedding anxiety.

Just as the bishop was about to continue with the wedding a loud voice echoed through the cathedral.

“STOP.’

As the bishop stood in the dimly lit cathedral, an ominous voice emerged from behind like an overwhelming cascade of darkness, resonating with a force that seemed to engulf the sacred space, leaving the clergyman utterly silenced in its wake.

Amelia Enasto, clad in an elegant white gown, found herself at the midpoint of the grand aisle, her steps toward the altar abruptly halted as an unforeseen force gripped her. In that suspended moment, the air seemed charged with a palpable tension, and her heart echoed loudly in her ears, each thud resonating with the weight of anticipation and an unspoken mystery that hung in the sacred atmosphere of the aisle.

He knows.

A fleeting and icy thought raced through Amelia Enasto's mind, a sudden chill that penetrated the warmth of the moment. Her delicate hand, resting on her father's arm as they proceeded down the aisle, betrayed a twitch of unease, almost instinctively inching towards her stomach in a protective reflex. Fortunately, her self-awareness intervened at the eleventh hour, allowing her to arrest the movement just before it fully manifested. In that delicate ballet between internal disquiet and poised composure, the journey to the altar took on an unexpected undercurrent of suspense.

A sense of impossibility gripped Amelia as she grappled with the revelation that someone seemed privy to a secret she guarded fiercely. It was inconceivable; not even Alpha Asher, her poised fiancé, could be aware. The weight of that undisclosed truth was her burden alone, and she was certain she hadn't inadvertently let it slip.

While Amelia navigated this internal turmoil, Asher, standing at the altar, exuded an air of regal confidence. His tall figure, draped in a meticulously tailored morning suit, presented a picture of sophistication. However, his usually composed demeanor was marred by a subtle frown directed towards her, presumably provoked by the mysterious owner of the dark, terrible voice that had permeated the sacred space. The juxtaposition of the impending nuptials and the unforeseen disturbance created a tension that lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the otherwise joyous occasion.

But Lia didn’t turn. She knew who owned that voice already.

As the enigmatic voice reverberated through the cathedral, a chilling fear gripped Amelia's heart, its presence akin to a crouching prey animal, hidden in the depths of her being. The weight of the undisclosed secret pressed down on her, exacerbating the unease that had taken root. The thought echoed in her mind like a relentless refrain: "You should have told him."

The internal conflict raged on, a tempest of emotions colliding with the solemnity of the occasion. Her gaze remained locked with Asher's, his frown an unspoken query that deepened the sense of urgency within her. The dilemma of whether to unravel the carefully guarded truth in the midst of their wedding day loomed large, casting a shadow over the anticipated celebration. The delicate dance between the fear gnawing at her and the regret echoing in her thoughts added an unforeseen layer of complexity to what should have been a moment of pure joy.

The silence in the cathedral was complete, every one of the hundreds of people in attendance staring at the ornate oak doors.

‘This wedding is canceled,’ the voice said, the weight of authority in his tone crushing everyone flat. ‘The woman, if you please, Enasto.’

Beside her, Lia’s father, the previous King’s most trusted advisor, swung around, his whole body stiff with surprise. ‘Your Excellency?’

‘Damien?’ Asher said at the same time, taking a step forward from the altar. ‘What is the meaning of this?’

There was no reply.

Footsteps came from behind her and someone took her arm in a gentle, but very firm grip. A royal guard.

No.

Amelia trembled as denial coursed through her and she’d ripped her arm from the guard’s hold before she could think better of it, her heart nearly beating its way out of her chest.

Amelia's eyes met her father's gaze, and she sensed the shock etched across his features. The perplexity in his eyes mirrored her own bewilderment. After all, she was Amelia Enasto, the carefully chosen bride and Mate of Asher Gray, the esteemed heir to the throne of the Lunar Eclipse Pack. Why, then, would the ominous presence of the royal guard be closing in on her with an urgency that defied the auspiciousness of her wedding day?

The weight of her identity, entwined with the nobility of the Lunar Eclipse Pack, added an extra layer of complexity to the unfolding mystery. Her father, a figure of authority within their pack, now stood at the intersection of familial concern and the profound sense of duty to protect the honor of their lineage. The air in the cathedral crackled with unspoken questions, and the collective gaze of the attendees shifted from the bewildered bride to the increasingly tense tableau at the altar.

As the royal guard's approach remained shrouded in an unsettling silence, the discrepancy between Amelia's esteemed status and the inexplicable threat of their arrival intensified, casting an eerie shadow over the once-celebratory atmosphere. The unexpected intrusion had thrust not only Amelia but the entire Lunar Eclipse Pack into a whirlwind of uncertainty, the answers to which remained elusive in the hallowed space of the cathedral.

‘Lia?’ There was confusion in her father’s blue eyes as he looked at the guard and then at her.

Of course he’d be confused. But she hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell him the truth. His disappointment in her would have been more than she could bear.

He’ll find out anyway now.

Yes, he would.

Lia stayed silent, staring out through the fine gauze of her veil, tension crawling through her.

Perhaps if she didn’t move this all might go away.He Might go away,

Damien was drawing closer, anger written all over his handsome face. His groomsmen were standing at the altar, muttering among themselves while the bishop looked on disapprovingly.

Whispers, amplified by the magnificent acoustics of the cathedral, moved like a wind through the assembled aristocracy of Lunar Eclipse.

A scandal in the making. They’d think all their Christmases had come at once.

Then the whispers died, another profound silence falling.