Bound To The Broken Alpha (Amy and Daniel) novel Chapter 12

12 /173

**Chapter 12: You Are Going To Regret This**

**AMY**

Clara’s grin stretched across her face like a Cheshire cat, filled with mischief. “I came here to congratulate Amy, of course! Such delightful news shouldn’t be kept from me. Plus, I thought I could lend a hand with some of the fashion choices. You know I have an eye for these things.” Her tone was light, but the underlying challenge was unmistakable.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, opting instead to fix my gaze on her, bracing myself for her next move. Clara was notorious for her ulterior motives; she never made an appearance without a hidden agenda. How in the world did she even find out where I was, and what possessed her to show up now?

Mrs. Carter opened her mouth, likely to dismiss Clara, but the latter swiftly stepped forward, her confidence radiating. “Actually,” she announced, her voice rising to ensure everyone in the room heard her loud and clear, “isn’t it a bit peculiar that Amy is receiving all this attention when everyone knows her wolf isn’t stable? Do you really want her representing the Northern Pack if she loses control right in the middle of the ceremony?”

The atmosphere in the hall shifted dramatically, the air thick with tension. Every seamstress, every helper, froze in place, their eyes darting toward me as if I were a ticking time bomb. My chest constricted painfully, and my wolf stirred restlessly within me, ready to retaliate against the insult. Clara had a knack for making a scene, and this was no exception.

What made her actions even more despicable was the fact that she had no business being here in the first place.

Mrs. Carter’s expression darkened, her patience clearly wearing thin. “Enough, Clara. Leave,” she commanded, her voice low but firm.

Yet, Clara remained undeterred. She crossed her arms defiantly, her smile razor-sharp as she locked eyes with me. “Go ahead, Amy. Prove me wrong. Show everyone that you can maintain control. Or maybe, just maybe, you’ll snap right here in front of us all.”

My nails bit into my palms, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. The urge to lunge at her, to wipe that smug smile off her face, surged within me, yet I struggled to restrain myself.

I met her gaze, my voice barely above a whisper but laced with intensity. “You’re going to regret this.”

Clara tilted her head slightly, unfazed. “We’ll see about that.”

My wolf roared inside me, and for a terrifying moment, I felt the shift tugging at my very core. My vision blurred, and I could almost feel my claws threatening to break free. I forced myself to breathe deeply, fighting against the primal instinct, but I knew I was teetering on the edge.

Before I could act on my rising fury, Mrs. Carter moved with purpose. She strode directly toward Clara, gripping her by the arm and leaning in close. I couldn’t hear the words exchanged, but whatever Mrs. Carter whispered seemed to momentarily disrupt Clara’s confidence, her smirk faltering.

Clara glanced at me, her eyes ablaze with animosity. The way she looked at me sent a shiver down my spine. If looks could inflict wounds, hers would have left me bleeding right there.

Mrs. Carter straightened up, releasing her grip on Clara without a word. She turned to the seamstresses, her authority palpable. “Back to the fitting,” she ordered, her voice steady yet commanding enough to restore order. The women quickly resumed their tasks, pretending as if the confrontation had never occurred. It was clear they respected her—and perhaps feared her.

Then, her gaze landed squarely on me. “Amy,” she said, her tone unwavering, “to carry the Carter name, you must learn to stand up for yourself. Respect is not given freely; it must be demanded, or it will slip right through your fingers.”