Wolfsbane- Chapter One in the Warren Pack Series

Chapter Thirty-Six

A VERY important chapter guys! I hope to see at least two comments ;) 

Wolfsbane

Chapter 36

Branwen

"Ahh, there you are." Michael walked into the dressing room wearing a deep gold dress shirt, smiling down at me, strapped to the hairdressers' chair. 'So you don't mess your dress' my mother had said after dismissing all chance of escape.

"Sweetheart, she looks the picture of you in your gown." He tugged her forward and kissed her deeply, and I turned away in disgust. It wasn't a marriage, he was draining her of her own sanity for his needs, and she blindly followed in awe.

"Now the marking itself won't take place until the highest peak of the moon, but we can do everything else right now. Men, bring her to the throne room." He turned on his heel.

"You said you turned your back on her, why are you holding a ceremony in Luna's name?" I asked.

He paused, a hand on the doorframe, "Because, little pup, women have been known to die without her blessing, and you're just too valuable to waste. It's not like I've got any more children lying around."

I pressed my battered nails into my palms, hard. A growl escaped my lips, and he laughed, patting my head condescendingly.

"Well, that wasn't very ladylike now, was it?"

The two soldiers pulled me to my feet after the handcuffs were removed, and I turned to glare at my mother one final time. She returned the stare blankly, and I saw her reach for the clear needle my father had passed in their kiss.

Ah...anything to get high.

I started to drag my feet one we reached the stairs, and the guard scoffed, pulling me harshly.

The man standing to the right of my father was in his late twenties physically, so he must be at least nearing his forties like Michael was. I felt bile rise in my throat as I was tugged down the makeshift aisle, my eyes spiking with tears.

Give them time...

My clumsy steps echoed off the stone floor, my dress, white and glowing in the rising moonlight and the flames of the torches, contrasted with the deep red stains that lay there. I held my head up high, and tried to look past the gleeful grin of my father.

The Groom turned, and looked me up and down with a smile almost as sickening as the man who stood before him, and I noticed how he kept clenching his fists, hardly able to contain his excitement. Grizzly stubble coated his chin, and his shaggy black hair fell past his shoulders, his dark eyes glinting as he looked me up and down.

I would have been sick if I'd eaten anything in the past two days.

I was finally at the end, standing at the altar with the two most repellent people I'd ever met. Michael reached for my hand, and I shuddered. His hand engulfed mine, cold and firm as he pulled me closer.

"I, Michael Christopher Warren, freely give my daughter Branwen Elizabeth Warren to this man in the mating of their choosing."

Even hearing him say my own name made me feel unclean.

"She's a spitfire, Michael." The Groom laughed at my grimace.

"You'll soon knock that out of her. She thinks she already has a mate."