Everyone knew I was supposed to marry Dylan Mercer, heir to Ironwood Pack. Then my own brother, punishing me for upsetting his precious adopted sister, pointed at a random server and named him as my future husband. Dylan could have stopped the humiliation. Instead, he insisted the promise stand. So I looked at the stranger and said, “Fine. I’ll marry you.” Everyone waited for me to come crawling back. Two weeks later, twelve black cars bearing a silver crescent pulled up to take me to my wedding...
