#Chapter 42

I can’t quite catch my breath. I’ve cocooned myself on my couch in the fuzziest faux fur blanket I own with a cup of Mora berry tea in hopes that soothing Blaze will help comfort me, too. But the truth, as I watch my own wedding on TV – the joke of a wedding, I remind myself, that Aaron only organized to boost his ratings – is that I had to talk myself out of going. The blanket is wrapped around me because it’s cozy, but also so I don’t have to look at the white dress I put on. I wipe a hand down my face that has half my make-up on it. I was between the eye shadow and the eye liner when I finally decided not to attend. I’m honestly not completely sure why I wanted to. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense that Henry Whitmore is my new mate. If he already knew we were mates, that would explain why he keeps asking me out even when I say no. It explains why he vowed to protect me, even up against the Werewolf President. It was like I was in a daze. Like I woke up