Accidentally Fell For My Ex's Uncle. The Dark Alpha novel Chapter 1

"If I had known I was about to kill a bride and get forced into marriage with a cursed alpha, I would've stayed at home".

"Are my tits out?"

Zaya barely glanced over. "A little. Fix the left one."

I yanked up the neckline of my dress for the third time. It was too tight, too low-cut, and stole from my sister who apparently had the body of a Victoria's Secret model. I did not.

"Remind me why we're doing this again?" Jade whispered from behind the hedge.

"Because Marcus said I couldn't come to his uncle's wedding," I said, wobbling on heels that were definitely a mistake. "Something about it being Moonstone Pack only."

"So we're crashing another pack's wedding to prove what exactly?"

"That I'm not some embarrassing girlfriend he has to hide because I'm from Riverside Pack." I peeked through the gap in the bushes.

The ceremony was already starting. White chairs, string lights in the trees, at least two hundred guests in expensive clothes.

Jade snorted. "Or he's going to be pissed and dump you in front of everyone."

"Then at least I'll know where we stand."

"You're insane," Zaya muttered, but she was grinning. She lived for this kind of chaos.

If I'd known what was about to happen, I would've turned around right then.

I spotted Marcus in the third row. Dark hair, broad shoulders, wearing a suit that probably cost more than my rent. We'd been dating for eight months.

The guy who currently had his arm around another girl.

My heart stopped.

"Is that Sophie?" Zaya's voice went up an octave.

"No." I leaned closer, squinting. "That can't be Sophie. He said only Moonstone Pack could attend. She's from Landravers pack, but he swore they were just—"

Marcus leaned over and kissed her. On the mouth. For way too long.

"That's definitely Sophie," Jade confirmed.

"Oh my god." My stomach dropped into my feet. "Oh my god, that's Sophie. He's—they're—"

"Okay, new plan," Zaya said quickly. "We leave. Right now. We go home, eat ice cream, and you block his number—"

"He LIED to me." My voice cracked.

"Remi, we need to go—"

"I can't believe this. I borrowed these torture heels. I’m sneaking in like some kind of deranged stalker—"

I stepped back, gesturing wildly. My heel caught on something.

A root. Or a rock. I didn't know. Didn't matter.

I was falling.

"REMI—"

I grabbed for the hedge. The branch snapped in my hand.

And then I was rolling.

Down the hill. Through decorative flowers. Over what might have been a speaker and what I think was the cake table because something creamy slapped my face on the way down.

My dress was ripping, my hair was in my face, and all I could think was this is how I die. Death by heartbreak and bad footwear choices.

I hit the aisle runner with a thud that knocked the air from my lungs.

For one beautiful, horrible second, everything went silent.

I was face-down on white fabric. There were shoes nearby. I lifted my head.

I was at the altar.

The bride was three feet away, mid-vow, staring at me with her mouth open.

"What the—"

I tried to get up, but my hand was tangled in something. White fabric. Lace.

The train of her dress.

"Wait, I'm sorry—" I yanked my hand free.

And then the train ripped.

The bride stumbled backward with force.

Her heel caught on the torn fabric.

She fell.

Everything happened in slow motion. Her arms windmilling. Her head tilting back. The sickening crack when her skull hit the stone pavement.

Then silence.

She wasn't moving.

"Oh my god," someone whispered.

A man rushed forward. He knelt beside her, pressing fingers to her neck. Checking for a pulse.

He looked up at the groom. His face was pale.

"She's... she's not breathing."

My ears started ringing. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.

Someone in the crowd laughed. "Well. That's a new record."

"She didn't even make it an hour," another voice added. "Didn't even get marked."

"Poor Nero. Six times. Has to be some kind of curse."

My brain was short-circuiting. Six? What did that mean?

“Remi?” Marcus stepped forward, still holding Sophie’s hand like she was his emotional support slut. “What are you doing here?”

I blinked up at him. Frosting dripped down my cheek. “I should’ve tripped on you instead.”

Strong hands grabbed my arms. Hauled me to my feet.

I looked up.

The groom was standing in front of me. And he was... jesus. He was beautiful. No, that was the wrong word. Devastating.

The kind of face that made you forget your own name. He was tall—taller than Marcus, taller than any wolf I'd ever met.. Sharp jaw.

Dark hair that looked like he'd run his hands through it too many times. And his eyes—silver. Actual silver, glowing faintly. Alpha eyes.

My wolf stirred. Interested. Very interested.

Not now, I told her. We literally just killed someone.

I forgot where I was.

I forgot what I'd just done.

All I could think was: Holy shit, he's hot.

"Are you LISTENING to me?"

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