The Alpha’s Plus Size Obsession novel Chapter 3

Mary Ann

The morning of the wedding dawned too bright, too cruel. I stood in front of the full-length mirror in one of Ironclaw’s guest suites, my reflection staring back like a stranger.

The gown was beautiful, ivory lace that flowed over my curves instead of fighting them, with delicate beading along the sweetheart neckline and a soft train that whispered against the floor. It should have made me feel like a Luna. Instead, I felt like a lamb about to be offered as a sacrifice.

My mother fussed with the veil behind me, her fingers trembling as she pinned it into my dark curls. Tears slipped down her cheeks no matter how many times she dabbed at them. “You look stunning, my sweet girl,” she whispered, voice thick. “So strong. So beautiful.”

I turned and pulled her into a hug, her smaller frame shaking against my softer one. “Mom, don’t cry. Please. It’s just a wedding.”

But we both knew it wasn’t. This was goodbye to the life I’d known. She held me tighter, her scent—warm vanilla and pack home, wrapping around me like a final comfort. “I know you’re scared. I wish I could fix this.”

A soft knock sounded at the door. My father stepped in, dressed in his formal Alpha suit, looking every bit the proud leader even though his eyes were heavy. He stopped when he saw me, swallowing hard. “Mary Ann… you’re radiant.”

He came over and took both my hands. “Listen to me. This alliance is necessary, but you are not trapped. If he hurts you, if you’re unhappy in any way, you come home. Pack or no pack, war or no war. You are my daughter first. Always.”

His words cracked something inside me. I nodded, blinking back the burn in my eyes. “I know, Dad. I’ll be okay.” I wasn’t sure I believed it, but saying it helped.

The ride to the neutral ceremonial grounds on Ironclaw territory felt endless. When we arrived, the air hummed with tension. Wolves from both packs filled the space, Moonstone on one side, Ironclaw on the other watching like this was some grand performance.

My heart hammered as I stepped out of the car, the hem of my gown brushing the grass. I kept my eyes fixed on the ground, on the delicate white petals scattered along the aisle. I couldn’t look up. Not yet. Not at him.

The ceremony passed in a blur of ancient words and pack traditions. I walked the aisle on my father’s arm, every step heavier than the last. When we reached the front, he squeezed my hand once before letting go. And then there was only Modric.

I kept my gaze lowered, staring at his polished black shoes, the sharp crease of his trousers, the way his hands flexed at his sides. I could feel his presence though tall, commanding, radiating that same overwhelming energy from our Academy days. My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, whining and pacing in a way she never had before.

The officiant began the vows. My voice shook as I repeated the ancient words of binding, promising loyalty, protection, and partnership. Modric’s voice was steady, deep, almost cold as he said them back. Each syllable wrapped around my heart like chains.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify