Nothing was worse than watching your mate stand at the altar with another she-wolf, about to exchange vows of loyalty and devotion.

The worst part? They weren't even real mates.

The second worst? I should have been somewhere else, ready to run if anything went wrong. But I couldn't move—because Elijah had promised to grant me my freedom at Catherine's coronation.

And the absolute worst part? My presence in the great hall felt like a joke.

All eyes were on me, some filled with amusement, others with barely concealed mockery. I may have been a court jester.

I clenched the piece of paper Vincent had given me, understanding its meaning....