Marked By the Pureblood Alpha (Deanna and Luis) novel Chapter 42

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Chapter 42 The Ceremonial Gown Fitting

Chapter 42 The Ceremonial Gown Fitting

Deanna’s POVI

1 stepped back and slapped Jake’s hand away

His reaction hit me hard.

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The rush of emotions–hurt, excitement, sadness was gone in an instant, like a bucket of ice water had been poured over me

I didn’t care to press him anymore, not like before.

What was the point?

If Jake wanted me to try on a ceremonial gown, fine.

I’d go along with it.

But he better not regret it later.

Without another word, I pulled open the car door and sat down, making sure there was a center console between us on purpose.

The whole drive, I kept my eyes on the scenery outside the window. Not once did I look at the man sitting beside me.

We arrived at LA Bridal Studio.

A was one of the most famous wedding designers in the werewolf world.

She had built her brand based on her name and was known for creating gowns and entire mating ceremonies. Everything was

ustom. A single gown started at millions.

very she–wolf in high society wanted her designs–an exclusive gown, a perfect ceremony.

Only the strongest and wealthiest packs, like Mooncrown, Olsendreich, and Frostbliss, had future Lunas worthy of wearing an LA

own.

leing able to reserve one was a symbol of status and power.

followed Jake inside.

wo rows of assistants stood waiting respectfully.

he manager, a she–wolf named Lily Eland, came forward and led us into a private fitting room.

he center platform held a gown, pure white and still, almost glowing under the lights.

he top was a simple strapless bodice with thin straps. The skirt flowed in layered waves, silk threads shimmering with lace, orming textures as soft as clouds and light as air.

ake turned to me. “Do you like it?”

tugged at the corner of my mouth, letting out a mocking smile. “You really want me to try this gown?”

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Chapter 42 The Ceremonial Gown Fitting

His brow tightened. “Deanna, why else would we be here?”

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Lily stepped forward and introduced, “Mr. Olson, Ms. Wiley, this gown is made from pure silk taffeta and satin. The cost is close to five million dollars. Each piece we make is one of a kind, impossible to copy, and meant to be kept forever.”

Jake cut in. “Deanna, isn’t this grand enough? So stop being upset about that ceremony with Peggie. It wasn’t real. I only did that to fulfill her wish.”

I lowered my eyes, not answering. I just looked at the white gown.

It was stunning–pure, elegant, and extravagant. The kind of gown that could hold every she–wolf’s dream of a perfect mating

ceremony.

Jake and I had been engaged for two years.

Our mating ceremony should have happened a year ago.

But Peggie hadn’t found a heart donor.

Jake insisted we wait until after her surgery, so she wouldn’t be upset.

He knew Peggie felt more for him than she should.

Yet he brushed it off, covering all his indulgence and care for her with one word–responsibility.

Today, as I looked at the ceremonial gown, all I felt was the weight of old hurts, bitter compromises, and memories of being forced to give in.

Nothing else.

Just then, Jake’s phone rang.

He glanced at me, then tilted his chin toward Lily, signaling her to take me to the fitting room. Without a word, he turned away and answered the call by the window.

I was ushered into the fitting room by several assistants.

The space was huge–big enough for ten people.

They crowded around, ready to help me change. My whole body stiffened. “Leave. I’ll do it myself,” I said coldly.

They exchanged nervous looks. Finally, they had no choice but to back away.

At the door, one of them added carefully, “Ms. Wiley, call us if you need anything.”

Silence quickly filled the room. Alone, I stared at the wedding gown, my thoughts spinning faster and faster.

Thirty percent of the company shares–I couldn’t just let them slip away.

But Philip, that old fox, cared about nothing but profit.

Even if I refused, if he and Jake made a deal, he would push me to agree to this.

In the world of werewolves, democracy was always a joke. To the elders, marriage wasn’t about love. It was just another tool for

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