Exchanging Vows: The Swapped Wife Is a Top Shaman

Chapter 22: Chapter 22

Ivy’s Point of View

A servant appeared at the door. "Beta Edwin, the Luna requests everyone’s presence for the midday meal."

My mother quickly dried her eyes and smoothed down her hair. My father straightened his clothes, tugging at his collar like it was choking him. We all knew better than to keep Alpha Roland waiting. Even a few minutes of tardiness would be seen as disrespect.

The walk to the dining hall felt longer than I remembered. Every corridor brought back memories. Some good. Most painful. The corner where Seraphina had once tripped me in front of visiting dignitaries. The staircase where her friends had "accidentally" spilled ink on my dress before an important ceremony.

This place had never been kind to me.

The dining hall was already full when we arrived.

Alpha Roland sat at the head of the long table, looking every bit the powerful leader he believed himself to be. His robes were made of the finest silk, embroidered with the Crescent Moon Pack’s crest in silver thread. He surveyed the room like a king surveying his subjects.

Luna Camilla occupied the seat to his right, dripping with jewels and false smiles.

Bastian sat on the Alpha’s left side, dressed in Silvermoon black and silver. He looked comfortable. At home. Like he belonged at the head of the table rather than near the bottom where my family was relegated.

And Seraphina was glued to him as always. Her hand rested on his arm possessively. Her smile was radiant. She was playing the role of devoted wife perfectly.

The elders filled the seats closest to the main family. Gray-haired men and women who had served the pack for decades. Important. Respected. Valued.

And my parents?

They were shoved near the end of the table. Almost at the very last row. Like afterthoughts. Like servants who had been grudgingly allowed to dine with their betters. My mother’s face was carefully blank, but I could see the tension in her shoulders. The way her hands gripped her napkin too tightly.

Finn and I were placed even further back. Our seats might as well have been in the hallway. My brother’s jaw was clenched with suppressed anger. He was young, but he understood the insult perfectly.

I sat down without complaint. I had endured this treatment for almost twenty years. The pointed looks. The whispered insults. The casual cruelty disguised as tradition. The way people’s eyes would slide right past me like I didn’t exist.

But today it felt different. Heavier. More suffocating.

Maybe because I had tasted something different at the Silvermoon Pack. Luna Helena treating me with respect. Alpha Alaric acknowledging my worth. Guards bowing before me and calling me Young Madam.

Going back to being invisible was harder than I expected.

I looked at my father, sitting stiffly in his low-ranking seat. His back was straight, his expression carefully neutral. He had been enduring this for over forty years. Four decades of being pushed down. Overlooked. Dismissed. Watching his younger half-brother rise to power while he was kept in the shadows.

Please say yes to my plan, Father. Please.

I wanted so badly for him to be free. For all of us to be free. To never have to sit at the end of a table again, eating scraps while others feasted.

The meal began. Servants brought out dish after dish. Roasted meats glistening with fat. Fresh vegetables arranged in colorful patterns. Delicate pastries dusted with sugar. The best the Crescent Moon Pack had to offer.

Not that any of it reached our end of the table. By the time the platters got to us, they were half empty. The choicest cuts of meat had been taken. The freshest bread had been claimed. We got the leftovers.

I picked at my food without tasting it. Watched the main family laugh and celebrate. Listened to them toast Seraphina’s good fortune and Bastian’s promising future.

Like my wedding night humiliation was just a minor inconvenience. A bump in the road on their path to glory.

Seraphina caught my eye once across the table. She smiled sweetly and leaned closer to Bastian, whispering something in his ear. He laughed and kissed her cheek.

The display was clearly meant for me. Look what I have. Look what you lost.

I looked away. She wasn’t worth my attention.

When the meal finally ended, the servants cleared the plates and brought out more wine. The atmosphere grew more relaxed. More raucous. Voices rose as cups were emptied and refilled.

Alpha Roland was already flushed from drinking. His voice grew louder. His gestures more expansive. He loved an audience, and today he had a captive one. Every elder, every family member, every servant was there to witness his glory.

"A toast!" He raised his cup high, wine sloshing over the rim. "To my wonderful son-in-law, Bastian Ashford!"

Everyone raised their cups obediently. Even I lifted mine, though the wine tasted like ash in my mouth.

"This young man is a true blessing to our pack," Alpha Roland continued, his words slightly slurred. "Handsome. Capable. Destined for greatness." He beamed at Bastian like a proud father looking at his favorite child. "He is the future Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack. And through him, our two packs will be united in harmony!"

Bastian smiled modestly, dipping his head in acknowledgment. Seraphina preened beside him, basking in the reflected glory.

I wanted to vomit.

’Dominic isn’t dead yet,’ I thought bitterly. But everyone’s already given his position away.

"With Bastian leading the Silvermoon Pack, our alliance will be stronger than ever," Alpha Roland declared, warming to his subject. "The Crescent Moon Pack and the Silvermoon Pack, working together as one. A new era of prosperity and power for both our peoples!"

More cheers. More toasts. More nauseating displays of sycophancy. The elders nodded along like puppets on strings. Luna Camilla smiled her frozen smile. Seraphina looked like she might burst from happiness.

I stared at my untouched wine, fighting the urge to throw it in someone’s face.

Then Alpha Roland’s gaze swept down the table. Past the elders. Past the lesser families. All the way to where my father sat in his humiliating position.

"Edwin!"

My father looked up, startled.

"Come here and pour wine for our honored guests." Alpha Roland gestured impatiently with his cup. "Don’t just sit there like a useless lump."

The hall went quiet. Conversations died mid-sentence. Every head turned toward my father.

Pouring wine was a servant’s job. Everyone knew that. It was menial work, beneath even the lowest-ranking pack member. Something you ordered slaves to do, not family.

And Alpha Roland was ordering my father, his own half-brother, his Beta, to do it in front of everyone.

My hands clenched under the table so hard my nails bit into my palms.

This wasn’t just a casual insult. This was a deliberate humiliation. A public reminder of exactly where my father stood in the pack hierarchy.

Nowhere.

My father sat frozen in his seat. I could see the conflict on his face. The shame burning in his cheeks. The anger he was trying so hard to suppress. His hands trembled slightly on the table.

My mother reached over and touched his arm. A silent plea. Don’t make it worse.

Seconds ticked by. The silence grew heavier.

"Well?" Alpha Roland’s voice sharpened with impatience. "Are you deaf, Edwin? I gave you an order. Or have you forgotten who is Alpha here?"

Still, my father didn’t move. Something had shifted in his eyes. Something that looked almost like defiance.

Alpha Roland’s face darkened. His hand tightened around his wine cup until his knuckles went white.

Then he hurled it to the ground.

The cup shattered against the stone floor. Wine splashed across the tiles like blood. Shards of ceramic scattered in every direction. The crash echoed through the silent hall, making several people flinch.

"HOW DARE YOU DISOBEY ME!" Alpha Roland roared, rising from his seat so fast his chair scraped against the floor. "I AM YOUR ALPHA! WHEN I GIVE A COMMAND, YOU OBEY!"

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