Chapter 1: The Third Postponement

After my sister’s marriage ended and she returned to the capital, Gavin Mercer—Alpha heir to the Redoak Pack and an official on the Royal Council—postponed our wedding for the third time.

“Evelyn just finalized her divorce,” he said. “If we get married now, it’ll only upset her. People will say you have no regard for your own sister.”

I was silent for a moment, then I nodded.

The first time, he said he was going to the Lakewood Pack for an advanced degree and stayed there with Evelyn while she recuperated for three years.

After Evelyn got married, he applied for a transfer to the northern border, claiming he needed to build his career. In truth, he was only staying close to her as she followed her husband to his post.

Three years, and then another three.

I had gone from a sixteen-year-old girl to the biggest joke in the capital’s high society.

This time, I didn’t want to wait anymore.

I asked my grandmother to submit my name to the Royal Castle. Princess Helena was leaving for the Highmoor Royal Sanctuary to oversee a three-year national peace service program. She would choose ten women from the various Packs to accompany her, and once they entered the Sanctuary, they would not be allowed to return home for three years.

On the day I left, I sent the papers dissolving our engagement to the Mercer family’s private estate.

Later, I heard that Gavin, a man who was always so calm and self-possessed, stood outside Highmoor’s gates for an entire month, just for the chance to see me.

…

“Celia, I’m afraid our wedding will have to be postponed again.”

“Evelyn just finalized her divorce. This is a difficult time for her. If we get married right away, it’ll just remind her of her own failure. She’s been frail since she was a child—what if the stress makes her sick? People will blame you, too.”

The screen was dim, and I couldn’t make out Gavin’s expression over the video call, but I could hear the gentleness in his voice whenever he spoke of Evelyn.

Every word was for her.

Not a single one considered what a third postponement would do to me.

The truth was, the signs had been there all along.

At the family dinner that day, the moment my mother mentioned my wedding, Evelyn burst into tears. She said she wanted to leave the capital and return alone to Greenhill, the town where we grew up.

She said she had just gotten out of a marriage; she couldn’t bear to watch her younger sister find the happiness she’d just lost.

Gavin immediately said the wedding could be delayed until Evelyn was feeling better.

Patricia Mercer, the current Luna of the Redoak Pack, cut him off on the spot. Gavin apologized to me, too, insisting it was just a thoughtless comment.

But I knew he would make it a reality.

I had been prepared for it, yet hearing him say it out loud still made my chest tighten with a familiar ache.

I gripped the wedding dress I had already altered countless times. Tears blurred my vision, and a few of the pearls I had just sewn on rolled from between my fingers.

When I didn’t answer, Gavin finally sounded uneasy.

“Celia? Do you agree?”

What could I say?

In six years, he’d never changed a single decision for me.

But why should I be the one to keep yielding?

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I asked, “What if I don’t agree? Evelyn’s failed marriage isn’t my fault. Why should I have to bear the consequences?”

Gavin’s voice turned cold.

“Celia Langford, she’s your sister. How can you be so cruel as to insist on a wedding that will only hurt her more while she’s at her lowest?”

“If you insist, I’ll petition the Royal Castle to send two etiquette officers to your home for a formal review of your character. If you’re this selfish, how are you qualified to be the next Luna of the Redoak Pack?”

I lowered my head and let out a small, bitter laugh. At last, my tears fell, spotting the white silk of my wedding dress.

If my own fiancé petitioned the royal etiquette officers to publicly question my fitness to marry him, my reputation would be ruined the moment the news hit the Crown Pack’s social channels.

People wouldn’t ask why Gavin had postponed the wedding three times.

They would only conclude that there had to be something wrong with my character for him to involve the Royal Castle.

He knew exactly what those rumors would do to me, and he still used them as a threat.

I wiped my tears away and said softly, “Fine. Postpone it.”

Gavin visibly relaxed.

“Good. I always knew you were the sensible one.”

…

After the call ended, I pushed the wedding dress off my lap and let it fall to the carpet.

My assistant, Mia, gasped. “Celia, you spent six years making this dress. How can you just throw it on the floor?”

Yes.

Six years.

When I was sixteen, our families arranged our informal engagement, and I sketched the first design for the dress. At eighteen, when the engagement was formally registered, I began sewing it by hand.

For six years, I had altered the cut over and over, stitching on each pearl one by one, wanting it to be perfect.

And I had imagined, countless times, walking toward Gavin in it.

I had known him first.

I was seven that year, and my father was just a low-level clerk at the Royal Council. His salary had to support our whole family and pay for Evelyn’s ongoing medical treatments.

During the Autumn Lights Festival, I begged my father until he finally bought me a small, rabbit-shaped lantern.

The moment Evelyn saw it, she burst into tears and demanded I give it to her.

She had been frail since childhood, and everyone in the family insisted I give in to her. If she wanted something, I was expected to let her have it.

But that lantern was a gift I had wanted for so long. For the first time, I refused, hugging it tightly to my chest.

My mother lost her patience, slapped me across the face, and snatched the lantern away, handing it to Evelyn.

The slap wasn’t hard, but my cheek stung all night.

Early the next morning, I stormed out of the house, wandering farther and farther down unfamiliar streets. By the time I realized I was lost, I couldn’t find my way back.

Just when I was most afraid, I met Gavin.

He wiped away my tears, listened as I haltingly told him what had happened, and then took me back to the festival market and bought me ten rabbit lanterns.

In the beginning, he really did protect me.

If Evelyn had one of something, he would give me two. If there was something Evelyn didn’t have, he was willing to help me find it.

When everyone else took Evelyn’s side, he would stand in front of me and say, “This is Celia’s. No one touches it.”

I had thought he would always choose me.

But I don’t know when that changed—when he, too, began frowning at me and saying, “Evelyn’s in poor health. Can’t you just give in to her this once?”

And, “She’s your sister. Looking after her is your responsibility, too.”

The first time we were supposed to get married, Evelyn was sent to a recovery center in the Lakewood Pack.

As soon as Gavin heard, he postponed the wedding, saying he had been admitted to a local university for a three-year public administration program.

Everyone praised his ambition. Only I knew he had chosen that school so he could visit Evelyn at the recovery center every day.

Three years later, Evelyn met Owen Hale, a border officer from the Northgate Pack. After they completed their marriage registration, Gavin finally brought up our wedding again.

“Celia, Evelyn has someone to take care of her now. I can finally stop worrying. Let’s get married.”

I thought he had truly let her go and joyfully began our preparations all over again.

But a few months later, Owen received orders to report to the disputed northern border. Evelyn decided to go with him.

The night before they left, Gavin sat in his car outside my house all night.

At dawn, he told me he had already applied for a border coordination position with the Royal Council.

So the wedding was postponed a second time.

Once he left, another three years passed.

I used to believe my patience would be rewarded, that one day Gavin would finally let Evelyn go.

I was wrong.

But it still wasn’t too late.

I still had the chance to turn around.