After two days of Osmond and Elvie together in the forest hunting, I didn’t mind. It was the same as always. But today, my wedding day, everything felt different.
The sun was high, but the mansion felt oddly dark. The wedding day had arrived, but the air was thick with tension. There was no warmth, no joy, just this suffocating quiet between us. Everything felt wrong—no decorations, no family, no friends. It was like we were just going through the motions.
When I showed up in my simple white dress, Osmond and Elvie were already there, chatting with a few pack members who’d come out of duty, not because they actually cared.
No one seemed excited about the wedding—least of all Osmond, who had his back to me, talking away to some pack mates. I expected something grand, something special, but instead, I felt like an outsider in my own wedding.
“Camille,” Osmond called when he noticed me. His tone was flat, not even a hint of excitement. “You’re early. You know it’s not starting for another hour, right?”
“I’m ready. Let’s just get this over with,” I said, my voice deadpan. He looked a bit surprised, but didn’t press it.
I glanced around at the guests—most of them strangers to me, people who came because they had to.
The pack members were off to the side, laughing and whispering, while Elvie sat at the head of the table, looking like she owned the whole event.
The old me would’ve tried harder to win everyone’s approval. I would’ve smiled through the awkwardness, pretended like everything was fine. But not today. If Osmond wanted to marry me like this, with his pack over my family, then fine. I wasn’t going to waste another second trying to please anyone.
Osmond walked over, eyeing my dress with an almost disappointed look. “I thought you’d go for something... fancier. You know, for a wedding.” He said it like I’d broken some unwritten rule.
“I didn’t realize the dress was supposed to make or break our marriage,” I shot back, keeping my voice steady.
Before he could reply, Elvie chimed in from the side, all sweetness. “You look beautiful, Camille!” she said, but her smile was as fake as ever.
I nodded, stiffly, not bothering to engage. My gaze shifted to Osmond as he walked away, chatting with more people, giving me only the barest attention. It was clear I was just a footnote in his world.
After a while, Osmond called everyone outside for the ceremony. I followed the crowd, feeling like I was walking to my own execution. The lawn, the trees—it should’ve been peaceful, but instead, it felt like a stage for a drama I wasn’t sure I wanted to be part of.
A few minutes later, the ceremony started. There were no formal vows, no rituals to signify the bond we were supposed to be sharing. Just an awkward exchange of ‘I dos,’ as if we were ticking boxes. Osmond grabbed the microphone, scanning the crowd, and then he started. His voice was steady but had this weird, familiar edge to it—almost like he didn’t even believe the words coming out of his mouth.
“And I, Osmond, promise to always cherish and protect…” His words faltered for a second, and then I heard it. A slip of the tongue. “... Elvie.”
I felt my stomach drop. But instead of letting the tears come, I smiled. A bitter, small smile.
I walked to the front, heart pounding, and pulled the ring off my finger. Without saying a word, I walked straight to Elvie, who was standing there with a smug look on her face.
Osmond rushed toward me, his face twisting in confusion and anger. “Camille, what are you doing?”
I stopped just in front of Elvie, the space between us now symbolic of everything that had been left unsaid. I held the ring out to her, dropping it into her waiting hand. “This ring was always a bit loose,” I said softly. “Guess it was never really meant for me.”
Osmond’s face turned red, his anger bubbling over. “What the hell are you talking about?” He glanced between me and Elvie, his eyes wide. “Camille, you’re making a scene. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”
But I wasn’t looking at him anymore. I was done.
I turned to Elvie, my words sharp. “You two are perfect for each other. I hope you both find happiness. You’ve earned it—at my expense.”
The crowd gasped, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Osmond snatched the ring back from Elvie’s hand, his face beet red.
“Are you out of your mind, Camille?” he yelled. “You’re ruining everything!”
“Ruining everything?” I repeated, my voice calm despite the rage swirling inside me. “I’m not the one who’s been playing with people’s lives. If this is what you want, fine. You two can have each other!”
Elvie stepped forward, putting on a fake concerned face. “Camille, listen to him. There’s nothing between Osmond and me. You're just being dramatic! Don’t throw everything away like this. Don’t you want to be happy?”
Her words were dripping with fake sympathy. I could see right through it, and it made me sick. But this time, I wasn’t backing down. I wasn’t going to let her manipulate me anymore. With a quick swipe on my phone, the photos flashed across the large screen set up for the wedding. The crowd froze.
There they were—Elvie and Osmond, taken during her so-called “last day of freedom.” The photos were intimate, their bodies pressed close together in the dark of the forest, their hands tangled in each other’s hair, faces full of longing, of something far more than just friendship.
And as Elvie’s face turned bright red, I finally felt something I hadn’t in a long time: power.
