Nathan doesn’t contact me for a full week.
The preparations for my mating ceremony have hit crisis mode. Mother, Clare, and Tara fret over the morning-after celebration. Everything from the guest list to the centerpieces have to be perfectly correct to hopefully erase the stain of What I Did.
I try my best to participate, if only to keep up the pretense that I’ll be marrying Ashton.
His threats haunt me. Nightmares of desperately trying to run from him, only to be dragged back to the pack kicking and screaming have me waking up in a cold sweat nightly. I’m constantly exhausted and on-edge, and people are noticing.
“The bags under your eyes,” Mother says at dinner one night, making a quiet tutting noise in lieu of finishing the thought.
“I haven’t been sleeping well.” Because of you, b
