EMMA
I would rather eat poison than sit at the table with them, but they had not given me a choice. Anxiety clawed at my insides, and the tight dress wasn't making it any easier. I had outgrown many of my dresses because my aunt and I had no money to splurge on dresses.
I trailed my hands over the hem of my dress. It looked more like a nightgown than a dress fit to be worn to a formal pack dinner in honour of my mating bond with the triplets. My sweaty fingers curled around the doorknob. I pushed it open, stepped out into the corridor, and strolled into the dining area when a disturbing vision appeared before me.
It was a repeat of the scene at Vera's mating ceremony.
I looked around, eyes bugging at the hostile faces of the small crowd who hissed and booed and cursed me.
The air was filled with cries of "witch" and "Bastard."
