So, getting inside the Alissano house was not an option, at least not for him. But what if someone else could get inside the Alissano residence, stop the wedding, and steal the bride away? Even if Gideon couldn’t have her for himself, he might be able to arrange it so she didn’t have to marry that ass, Victor Rinaldi, or spend the rest of her life in servitude to a man she hated, forced to submit her will to that of another.
Gideon scrubbed a hand across his jaw. He knew just the person he needed. Someone who would be willing to spirit Kay away if the price was right.
Gideon stared at the single drop of dried crimson on his wrist. His blood, he mused. It was a small price to pay for Kay’s safety.
All he had to do now was figure out how to free Verah and then persuade her to do what he wanted before it was too late.
Shit. Who was he kidding? His odds of getting inside the Rinaldi compound weren’t any better than his odds of getting into Alissano’s.
Her wedding day. Kay stared at her reflection in the mirror. She recalled Gideon remarking that she was the most unhappy-looking bride he had ever seen. He should see her now, she thought glumly. She looked even worse, if that was possible. There were dark shadows under her eyes, caused by a week of restless days and sleepless nights.
Her stomach growled loudly, a reminder that she had refused breakfast and lunch; but how could she be expected to have a hearty appetite on this, the worst day of her life?
There was a knock at the door, and then her mother peeked inside. “Kiya, you’re not even dressed yet!” Dorothy entered the room, a frown creasing her brow. “You need to hurry. The ceremony starts in thirty minutes.”
“Mom, can’t you get me out of this?”
“I’m afraid not.” Dorothy removed Kay’s gown from the hanger. It was long and white, simple in cut and design, with a floor-length veil. “Keeping your father waiting will only make things worse.”
“How could they possibly be worse?” Kay muttered. She pulled the gown over her head, then turned her back so her mother could fasten the long row of cloth-covered buttons. She didn’t know who had chosen the dress. She didn’t care. “My father is forcing me to marry a man I despise with no regard for the fact that I’m already married to someone else. Someone I love. Someone I will always love.”
“You may come to love Victor.”
Kay snorted. “That will never happen! He’s nothing but an arrogant ass.”
Dorothy released an aggrieved sigh, then squared her shoulders. “Kiya, we don’t have time for this. I knew it was a mistake for Russell to let you leave the pack. Now, brush your hair and put on your shoes and your veil. Your father will be here in a few minutes.”
Kay stared at her mother, shocked as much by her words as the tone of her voice. Blinking back her tears, she ran a brush through her hair, set the veil in place, stepped into her satin pumps, then sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded tightly in her lap.
Dorothy moved toward the door. Pausing, she glanced over her shoulder. “And try to smile.”
Kay shook her head after her mother left the room. Smile, ha. What did she have to smile about?
All too soon, her father knocked on the door. “Kiya?”
“Come in.”
His gaze swept over her. No doubt to make sure she was presentable. It didn’t matter that he was forcing her to marry a man she despised. No, what mattered was that she make a good impression on the pack.
Stubbornly refusing to take his hand, she swept out of the room, her head held high.
She stopped outside the dining room, where the wedding was to take place. Fresh flowers, candles, and a long white runner made the room look more like a chapel than a place to eat. The tables, laid with a variety of cold cuts and cheese, had been pushed against the walls to make room for a piano. A woman Kay didn’t recognize played softly. The invited guests were seated, chatting quietly. A white arch stood at the far end of the room. Victor waited beneath it. Her mother and Victor’s parents occupied the front row, along with Aunt Greta and Uncle Brett.
Kay flinched when her father came up behind her. “Ready, daughter?”
“I will never be ready.”
Taking her hand firmly in his, he said, “We will proceed, nevertheless.” At his nod, the piano player began to play the wedding march. The guests rose and faced the aisle. All of them smiled at Kay as she passed by, except for Selene Thomas, who glowered at her.
Before Kay could wonder at the woman’s sour look, they reached the arch. Her father placed her hand in Victor’s, then took a step forward and turned to face them.
“As Alpha of the Shadow Pack, I hereby dissolve my daughter’s previous union to one not of our blood or our faith. With that matter no longer an issue, and with the authority that is mine by right of blood, I now give my daughter, Kiya Marie Alissano, to Victor Rinaldi, to be his life mate according to the laws and dictates of our pack. Victor, do you swear to honor and protect this woman and no other all the days of your life?”