My wedding is next week, but my fiancé brought his ex-girlfriend, who also happens to be his first love.

I thought this must be a dream.

I never imagined I would see the two of them standing side by side again.

"She's pregnant with my child. I want to call off the wedding and our engagement, Rose."

With a face I had never seen before—one I didn't recognise at all—he coldly declared it was over.

"I'm going to marry Sarah soon, before her belly starts to show." Again, without a shred of emotion, he said this to me as I stood waiting.

My heart felt like it stopped beating. The air around me suddenly turned cold, freezing every cell in my body.

"Wh-what?" That was all I could manage. My voice sounded hoarse, foreign even to my ears.

Sarah, his ex, the woman who had always been a shadow in our relationship, looked down slightly, placing a hand on her still-flat stomach. Whether she felt ashamed or guilty, I couldn't tell.

"You heard what I said, Rose. "I'm sorry," said my fiancé, David. His voice was flat, like he was reading a grocery list. "I hope you can understand. Sarah needs me, and my child needs its father."

"Understand?"

I repeated the word bitterly, as if poison were slowly spreading on my tongue. "I'm supposed to understand that my fiancé is calling off our wedding because he got another woman pregnant?"

My eyes burned, but the tears refused to fall.

I stared at David's face, the one I had loved so deeply. The man who had once been my home was now causing me unimaginable pain.

"Rose…" He tried to touch my hand, but I recoiled. His touch now felt repulsive.

"Don't touch me," I whispered.

My voice was almost inaudible, but it was enough to make him straighten up.

"Rose, please—"

"Enough!" I glared at him sharply, holding back every tremor in my chest to keep from breaking into sobs. "You don't even have the right to ask me to understand, David. I gave you everything, David. You destroyed all my love, my time, and my dreams as if they were insignificant. I raised my trembling voice, unleashing a wave of anger I could no longer contain.

David lowered his head, perhaps out of guilt, or maybe not. Meanwhile, Sarah just stood quietly besides him, as if she knew she had already won.

"Three years is not a short time, David. I kept thinking about a beautiful future for us. But—" I couldn't finish my sentence. I wiped my face roughly with my hand as the tears finally streamed down my cheeks.

Suddenly, Sarah spoke. Her voice was soft, yet piercing.

"Rose, I am truly sorry about all of this. It shouldn't have happened. But it has. I'm begging you, let David go."

I shifted my gaze from David to Sarah. A mix of pity and burning anger swelled in my chest.

She was apologising, yet her calm gaze showed she had gotten what she wanted. There wasn't a trace of regret or guilt in her eyes.

"Let him go?" I laughed, a hollow laugh that sounded more like a sob. "Don't you think that's ironic, Sarah? You've already taken him, and now you're asking me to let him go. Was that your plan all along?"

David raised his head. "Rose, stop. Sarah has nothing to do with—"

"Nothing to do with it?!" I cut him off sharply. "She's pregnant with your child, David! Right before we get married! That is the heart of all this! Don't you dare try to protect her after what the two of you have done to me!"

David's breathing grew heavy. He looked a little more emotional now.

"I know your situation is bad, Rose. Even worse than that. But I can't abandon my child. I have to take responsibility; no matter what, he is my pure bloodline," he said, his voice now slightly pleading, as if trying to make me see the goodness in his actions.

"Responsibility?" I took another step back, pointing at Sarah, who was still standing quietly. "You already had a responsibility to me, David! The responsibility was marrying me next week! It was a responsibility that had cost me three years of my life!

I reached into the pocket of my dress and pulled out a small velvet box. The engagement ring, which was meant to symbolise our commitment, was in the box.

I threw it. I threw it not towards him but onto the floor, between their shoes.

The small object spun and came to a stop. The sudden silence felt deafening.

"Take this," I said, my voice flat and cold again, all my emotions drained, leaving behind a frozen emptiness. "Cancel everything. I never want to see you again, David!"

David stared at the box, then back at me. A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, as if he thought I would beg or scream longer.

"Rose, I—"

"Leave! "I cut him off. "Take her and your child, who needs a father, out of my house, out of my life. Right now!"

Sarah touched David's arm. "David, maybe we should go," she whispered softly.

David gave a stiff nod. He took a deep breath, his gaze avoiding mine. He bent down quickly, picked up the ring box, and, without another word, he turned around.

They walked towards the door, Sarah a step behind him. Just before Sarah stepped out, she glanced back slightly, and what infuriated me the most was the small, almost smirk-like smile she gave me.

***

I decided to go to the Crimson. I usually avoided The Crimson, a nightclub downtown, due to its excessive crowds and noise. But tonight, the crowd and the noise were exactly what I wanted. I needed the blaring music to drown out the noise in my head.

Half an hour later, I was there. The smell of alcohol and sweat and the pounding house music immediately greeted me.

I sat at the bartender's table and ordered straight vodka. One glass. I continued to order two glasses until I could no longer recall the number of times I requested a refill. The burn in my throat helped, at least a little, to numb the stabbing pain in my chest.

I looked around at the bustling crowd until I decided to head down to the dance floor. Honestly, I was just moving to the rhythm, closing my eyes, and letting my body be taken over by the beat. I didn't care who witnessed my awkward dancing. I just wanted to get rid of all thoughts of David, the wedding, and the betrayal. I desperately wanted to forget, even if just for an hour.

After dancing for a while, my legs suddenly felt weak, and my head spun. I decided to go to the restroom to splash water on my face. Half-drunk, I staggered through the sea of people.

Suddenly, my body crashed hard into something—or someone.

"Ouch!" I gasped. My balance completely vanished. I stumbled backwards, resigned to hitting the cold floor.

However, before I could meet the floor, a pair of strong, muscular arms quickly wrapped around my waist. With a firm tug, he pulled me upright. His powerful grip propelled my body forward, pressing it against his broad chest.

At the same moment, someone from the dancing crowd bumped into my back quite hard from behind. The push sent my head lurching forwards.

Smack.

Time seemed to stop. In that tumultuous instant, my lips made contact with his. It was just a brief touch, an accident caused by a stranger's push, yet it felt like a jolt of static electricity shooting through every nerve in my body.

***

I jolted and immediately pulled my face back, but he didn't let go of my waist. I looked up, breathless, my heart pounding not from the alcohol anymore.

The man was incredibly tall. His body was perfectly built, feeling solid and muscular beneath my hands. His face was almost flawless, with a strong jaw and prominent cheekbones.

His eyes were like molten gold. They stared at me intently, without blinking. A powerful aura of dominance radiated from him, something so foreign yet strangely familiar to my instincts.

But what surprised me the most was his scent. A crisp, incredibly masculine scent. It wasn't just cologne; it was like a unique signature aroma that suddenly awakened a primal longing deep within me.

"Careful," his deep, rumbling voice sounded right above my head, vibrating through my chest.

"I'm sorry," I said hoarsely. I tried to pull away, embarrassed by the accidental kiss, but his grip on my waist actually tightened slightly.

"My apologies," he replied, his voice husky. "I didn't see you."

"It's fine," I whispered. I couldn't look away from his golden eyes. There was an invisible tether making it hard to breathe.

The man tilted his head slightly, his gaze dropping to my lips for a moment before returning to my eyes. His expression turned more serious. He leaned in, bringing his face closer to the crook of my neck.

"What scent is this?" he asked in a low whisper. He wasn't asking about his scent but about mine.

My cheeks burned. "I... I don't know," I answered truthfully, my throat tight.

He didn't release me. He kept staring as if reading my very soul. My drunkenness vanished instantly, replaced by a sharp awareness.

This man was different. The strength, the scent, that gaze—he was no ordinary human.

Could he be one of them? An Alpha from another pack, blending in among humans like me?

"Your scent is very unique," he murmured again, his finger tracing a slow circle on my waist, sending a wave of heat that made me almost want to pull him back for a real kiss.

"I have to go," I said hurriedly, trying to regain control before I did something embarrassing.

He took a step back, releasing his hold, but his eyes remained locked on mine.

"Wait," he called out just as I had taken two steps.

I turned around.

"What's your name?"

"Rose," I answered curtly.

A faint smile touched his lips. This time, it seemed more predatory, yet utterly captivating.

"Rose," he repeated, as if tasting the name. "I hope we meet again."

I didn't reply. I just gave a quick nod and hurried off towards the restroom, my heart still racing wildly.

Behind the locked bathroom door, I leaned back and tried to catch my breath. My heart was pounding in a way I'd never felt before. I touched my lips, which still felt warm.

"Who was that man? He was so different," I whispered to my disheveled reflection in the mirror.

***

After a grueling few days, I finally managed to contact and cancel all the catering orders and the decorator and return the wedding dress via express courier.

The process was exhausting and humiliating. I had to hold back tears while explaining to the wedding planner that the wedding was off.

My phone rang incessantly with calls from relatives wondering what was happening. It seemed David hadn't told them our wedding was canceled. But I didn't have the energy to explain it all. For now, I just needed time to breathe.

I had just taken a sip of my coffee when the apartment buzzer rang.

"Who could be disturbing my peace now?" I finally got up and went to open the door.

It turned out to be a courier delivering a thick, elegantly cream-colored envelope.

I took it without suspicion. The envelope felt heavy, the paper was high-quality, and in the corner, a familiar monogram was embossed: D & S.

My hands instantly turned cold.

My heart began to race erratically. A disgusting mix of fear and curiosity washed over me. I tore the envelope open, hoping it was just an apology letter from David or maybe a refund.

Inside was a luxurious folded card, tied with a thin silk ribbon. I opened it.

Inside, in beautiful calligraphy, it read:

With boundless joy, we invite you to witness the union of our love.

David Alexander & Sarah Eleanor

January 30, 2026.

Grand Ballroom, The Sterling.

I fell silent.

That date... was supposed to be our wedding date!

They were truly mocking me. This wasn't just a wedding invitation; it was a personal taunt.

Tears I thought had dried up threatened to spill, but I quickly blinked them away. I wouldn't cry for them.

I stared at the card again. Taking a deep breath, I clenched my jaw. My mind worked furiously, piecing together a plan.

I would go with my head held high, and I would be the most beautiful woman in that room, outshining the bride herself. You're wrong if you think I'll be broken.

I'll make their wedding celebration truly memorable with a little surprise.

***

The Grand Ballroom of The Sterling shimmered under the glow of magnificent crystal chandeliers. The scent of lilies and roses filled the air, a luxury that should have been mine tonight.

I stepped inside, letting my high heels click a steady, confident rhythm against the marble floor.

Gwen had indeed performed incredible feats. I wore a sleek, deep black silk dress that hugged my frame perfectly—a color symbolizing mourning for my past and a bold statement for my new self. My hair fell in elegant waves, and my makeup was sharp, making it clear I wasn't here to mourn.

"Rose?"

The voice made me turn. David stood there, wearing the tuxedo I knew so well because I had helped him pick it out weeks ago. David appeared stunned, his gaze scrutinizing every aspect of my appearance.

"You actually came," he said, his voice slightly trembling.

"Of course, David," I replied with a thin smile, the kind that didn't reach my eyes. "I wouldn't want to miss the happiest day of your life."

Sarah appeared beside him, wearing a white wedding dress that looked a bit snug around her midsection. Her face paled when she saw me. "Rose... thank you for coming." Her polite smile was visibly strained.

"You're welcome, Sarah. You two look very... compatible," I said calmly.

I could feel the guests' eyes beginning to focus on us. The majority of them were the same friends I had expected to attend my wedding.

"Rose, I'm glad you're being the bigger person," David whispered, a note of smugness slipping into his tone, as if he was proud of having left me.

I just gave a small laugh. "Don't get too confident, David. I'm here to deliver your wedding gift."

"Gift? You didn't have to—" Sarah tried to interject, but I cut her off.

"Oh, but I prepared something very special. You'll love it. Consider it my appreciation for your honesty," I said before turning and leaving the confused couple behind.

I melted back into the crowd, took a glass of champagne, and positioned myself strategically. My heart pounded, not from fear, but from adrenaline. As a werewolf, my senses suddenly picked up something incredibly strong.

I stiffened. That scent again. My gaze swept across the crowded room, searching for the man from the nightclub. How could he be here? However, the emcee's speech diverted my attention.

"And now, let's witness the beautiful journey of this happy couple through a short video."

The lights dimmed. The giant screen behind the stage lit up.

At first, it showed photos of David and Sarah. But then, abruptly, the image changed. David's voice echoed through the entire room via the speakers.

"Rose, I love you. Will you be my wife?"

On the screen, a recording played of David kneeling to propose to me in a flower garden a year ago. My figure was neatly blurred, but those who knew us recognized me. The shocking part was when the camera slowly panned sideways, revealing Sarah standing in the distance, watching the moment with a face full of hatred.

Murmurs began to ripple through the guests. David and Sarah froze on the stage.

Then, the video cut to footage from a week ago—CCTV footage from my apartment, with the audio enhanced and cleaned up.

"She's pregnant with my child. I want to call off our wedding, Rose." David's cold voice rang out with perfect clarity.

"I'm going to marry Sarah soon, before her belly starts to show."

The screen showed David standing tall and unapologetic, while Sarah stood beside him, looking down and holding her still-flat stomach. Although my face remained blurred, the heartbreak in that scene was palpable throughout the room.

"Turn it off! Turn it off!" David yelled, his voice shrill with humiliation.

His face was crimson. Sarah began to sob, covering her face with her hands.

The guests' whispers grew into a loud buzz, some openly sneering.

"How cruel to steal your friend's fiancé."

"Pregnant already? What a cheap woman."

I stood in the middle of the crowd, raising my champagne glass high toward a frantic David on the stage. He glared at me with eyes full of rage and shame, but I only returned a cold stare and a small, knowing smile.

"Congratulations on your wedding, David and Sarah," I murmured softly, then finished my champagne in one gulp.

I turned to leave the room. My task was complete; I had given them a surprise they would remember for years in their social circles.

However, just as I reached the dimly lit exit, a large, warm hand gently yet possessively caught my arm.

I jolted, coming face-to-face—or rather, face-to-chest—with a powerful, broad torso. I looked up, and there he stood. He was the man with the intoxicating golden eyes.

"A remarkable performance, Rose," he whispered, his voice low and husky, sending an electric jolt through my entire body.

"You... what are you doing here?" I asked, my breath catching.

He didn't answer. Instead, he lowered his head, bringing his face close to my neck, inhaling my scent deeply as if worshipping something there.

"I said we'd meet again, didn't I?" he murmured. His other hand now rested on my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. "And now that you're finished with that trash... can we talk about this incredibly sweet scent of yours?"

I found myself immobile. He knew. He knew I wasn't entirely human.

"Who are you, really?" I whispered, my hands unconsciously gripping his shirt.

“Xavier.”

***