Planning a wedding is exhausting. Planning the same wedding ten times is downright disabling, but I still do it with joy and stubborn hope in my heart. And Just like the first, third, even the eighth time, I truly believe this was the time Dante and I would finally get married.

It has been four years since we decided to get married, and every single time there was one excuse or another, canceling, postponing, or quietly letting the plans rot away like a forgotten fruit.

But I didn't give up. I know, eventually, I’ll win over his pack. They hated me from the start because I am a rogue wolf. That is the standard attitude toward rogues. They didn’t want their alpha tied to someone like me, especially when they were still holding out hope he’d meet his fated mate.

But Dante is already past thirty, and once a wolf crosses that line, finding a fated mate becomes wishful thinking at best.

Hardly anyone waited past twenty-one for a fated mate. I didn't. I never even hoped someone would want to marry a rogue wolf like me, someone willing to take in my family too, until Dante. He gave me hope. He filled my life with warmth and laughter and gave me a home after years of wandering the wild with nowhere to land.

So no matter how many times his family pushes the wedding back, I know I am going to marry him.

Maybe it would be easier if he isn’t the alpha. Maybe they would accept me if he’d been just one of his cousins. But this is the life I have, whether I like it or not.

By the time I finally get home from work, my whole body feels like it has been dragged through a metal grater. My muscles burn, my feet throb. The boot and backseat of the car are stuffed with wedding supplies, fabric, boxes, bags sliding into each other with every turn. No one helped.

Dante is too busy at the shop to spare the time, but I don’t mind running errands alone. I tell myself I don’t.

As soon as I drive into pack land, a small stretch of territory gifted to the Red Fang pack by the friendly Pure Moon pack, I notice how unnaturally quiet it is.

Usually Roberto and Alejandro are at the court, playing basketball and shouting over each other. Mariana is nearby, bouncing the baby on her hip, while their father drinks openly in the daylight like he doesn’t care who judges him.

Today, no one is there.

I drive toward the house Dante and I share with both our families. It is a one-story building, cramped and barely big enough for all seven of us, but we’ve made it work for five years.

The people I expect to see at the court are gathered in front of the house instead.

Roberto has his arm slung over his younger brother Alejandro’s shoulder. Dante stands stiffly on the porch. My mother clutches one of the wooden porch posts, pressing herself against it like she is trying to disappear into the grain.

“We cannot continue like this,” I catch the end of Dante’s mother’s voice as I step out of the car.

My heart leaps straight into my throat, then slams back down, beating too fast. Dante’s black eyes meet mine from across the yard.

Something is wrong.

My stomach drops. I clench and unclench my fists, my palms damp.

Not again.

“What’s going on?” I say, keeping my face light as I step into their mist.

Dante’s mom, Celeste, turns those sharp, mean eyes on me. Her wrinkled mouth tightens as she opens it, then closes it again, like she is biting back something poisonous. His father stands beside her, but when I try to catch his gaze, he turns away.

Roberto and Alejandro give me pitying looks, followed by their parents, and Mariana, Alejandro’s fated mate, who won’t meet my eyes at all.

My sisters aren’t there. They were probably told to get lost since they aren’t pack members yet.

I avoid looking at my mother. I already know her eyes will be firing warnings at me, silent commands to behave. She has a way of making me defensive, and right now, that will only make things worse.

“What happened?” I ask as I walk up to Dante. “Did someone die?”

“Nothing happened. You’re late today,” he says dryly.

That is normal for him, his bluntness, but what isn’t normal is that he seems to have forgotten I’ve gone out to get the remaining things for the wedding scheduled for Friday.

“I had, I had to get some things,” I stammer, my nerves slipping. “Did someone die?”

Everyone is standing right in front of our house, so logically, no one has. The Red Fang pack is small to begin with, ever since they’ve been chased off their original land years ago.

But maybe it is the Pure Moon pack. Maybe they have sent word for us to evacuate.

The thought makes my chest tighten. Dante doesn’t have a steady job right now. This house is the only thing in his name. My restaurant sits on this land too, our only source of income on some days.

I pray it isn’t that.

“It’s nothing,” Dante says, taking my hand.

My breath comes out of me in relief.

“Then why are your mom and dad standing outside?” I ask, glancing at his parents. They live here, yet they stand below the porch, staring up at us with those tight expressions.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

My fingers tense in Dante’s grip, already bracing myself. They’re canceling it again.

“We have important things to discuss,” Celeste says in that tone that reminds you exactly where you stand beneath her.

“No, we don’t,” Dante replies. Then he turns to his uncles and aunt, Simon, Jacks, and Gabriella. “Tito, please return to your homes. Nothing is happening here.”

They don’t move.

They don’t look as grim as his parents, but it is obvious they are part of whatever this is. I stay silent. Outsiders aren’t welcome in pack matters, and it is already a miracle I have been allowed on pack land for this long.

It doesn’t help that once I become Dante’s mate, I will be their Luna, someone they will be forced to respect.

The hatred I have endured since falling in love with Dante… no woman should have to carry that. But I do, because I love him. Truly. I want to spend my whole life with him.

“Dante,” his mother snaps, “we can’t keep dragging this issue out forever. You know what the right thing to do is. So hurry up and make the right decision.”

“I’ve already made my decision,” Dante says.

He releases his alpha aura without warning.

It hits me like a wave. My knees buckle, terror racing through my veins. Rogue wolves are weak to alpha pheromones, it sends panic flooding through me.

Dante notices immediately and pulls it back.

“Everyone should go back to their homes and forget all about this,” he says coldly. “I won’t say it twice.”

I stare at him, stunned by his harshness.

Dante isn’t gentle or soft-spoken, but he has never used his power to shut things down like this. His black eyes are locked on his parents, his jaw set beneath his beard. He looks dangerous.

“You can avoid it today,” Gabriella shrills, “but not forever. We won’t let you throw this pack into any more jeopardy.”

She turns away, her husband guiding her off. Roberto and Alejandro follow. One by one, everyone disperses.

No one explains a damn thing.

As soon as his parents go inside, I turn to Dante.

“What happened?” I ask quietly. “Are they against it again?”

“It’s not-- ” He stops abruptly, his gaze flicking over my shoulder.

I turn to see my mom still perched against the side of the porch. Reading the tension instantly, she pushes herself upright and goes inside. Only then are we truly alone.

Night has fallen. The porch light clicks on, casting a pale glow between us. My heart is still pounding, like it hasn’t gotten the memo that the danger has passed.

“So,” I say, folding my arms. “What happened? Why is everyone so tense?”

Even as I ask, part of me doesn’t want the answer. It is always a week before the wedding. Always after the money has been spent and the plans are set.

Dante rubs his hands down my arms, soothing, and I nearly melt into him. My legs ache from a full day on my feet, hours at the restaurant, then running around town buying wedding things I somehow never manage to get all at once.

“You look tired,” he says softly, giving me that half smile. “Why don’t you soak in a bath, and I’ll massage you later.”

“Diverting,” I laugh, lifting a brow. “It must be really bad.”

“No, it isn’t.” He kisses me, and I lean into it, meeting each press of his lips.

“Is it the wedding?” I kiss him again. “They want to cancel it again?”

He freezes before the next kiss.

His gaze slides away, just slightly, and every instinct in me goes on high alert.

“What?” I ask, stepping closer.

“It’s nothing. We don’t need to move the wedding,” he says, shaking his head once. Then he steps back. “Come on. Let’s get you into that bath.”

“Wait, ugh. I still need to get the things from the car,” I say, already dreading the thought of hauling everything inside tonight.

“Go get your bath. I’ll handle it,” he says.

My smile comes back instantly.

“Thank you. You’re the best,” I say, kissing his jaw, his beard scratching my lips. “I’ll be waiting for my massage.”

I walk backward into the house, light and giddy, thinking maybe, just maybe, all the stress has been worth it.

But instead of teasing me like he usually would, Dante only gives me a weak smile and a nod.

That isn’t like him at all.

I turn, and nearly collide with Celeste.

She stares at me with such open bitterness that I almost apologize out of reflex, before remembering I haven’t done a damn thing wrong.

“Why are you just getting home?” she snaps. “Where is dinner? You left this house at six in the morning. Did you even do anything before leaving?”

Her eyes narrow.

She knows exactly what I do every morning: cleaning, cooking, packing lunch for my sisters before heading out. I don’t respond. With Celeste, answering only pours gasoline on the fire.

“I’ll make dinner,” my mom says quietly from behind her.

“No one asked you,” Celeste spits. “You tell your daughter to fulfill her role in this house if she wants to keep living here. Otherwise, she can pack her things and leave. Tonight.”

“Don’t worry, Celeste,” I say calmly, forcing a smile while scoffing inside. I am not going anywhere. Whether she likes it or not, I am marrying her son. “I’ll make dinner immediately.”

I give her my sweetest, deadliest smile and walk into the kitchen. My mom hurries after me.

“That’s all you’re good for, wretched rogue,” Celeste hisses behind us.

I clamp my hand over my mom’s before she can turn around and give Celeste one of her looks, the kind that says I will suffocate you with a pillow in your sleep.

“It’s okay,” I whisper.

My mom is small, fragile-looking. I take after my father, tall, but curvy, while she is thin to the point of frailty, her eyes always darting. She wasn't like this when I was younger. Life in the wild, protecting us from other rogues and vicious packs, has broken something in her. She sees danger everywhere now.

I wish I could afford therapy for her. I can’t. So she lives like this, suspicious, tense. And angry enough, she really would smother Celeste with a pillow.

“Are you okay?” I ask softly, noticing the redness on one side of her cheek.

“I’m fine,” she says, brushing past me. “But you’re not. You’re about to be kicked out of this pack. You need to do something.”

“What?” I turn to her, blinking.

She looks out the window, toward the driveway where my car sits.

“Look. He’s not there,” she says, pointing.

I step closer and lift the blinds.

Dante isn’t by the car.

“What?” My heart skips. “Where did he go?”

“To another woman,” my mom says quietly behind me.

I spin around.

“What?”

“Dante is cheating on you, mi hija.”

My mouth falls open.