"Betrayed by the Alpha, Chosen by Fate"

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Elowen’s POV

Alistair sat there, Imogen stood over his lap, her laugh like a knife-cut in my ears. I was so near I could hear what he was saying to her--the empty words and phrases he had used to breathe upon my flesh. Close enough to hear his mouth take hers, close enough to hear her little sighs as his hands went under her dress.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

Worst of all was my mother, who stood close by, pouring the wine into his cup like a show-slave. He wished everybody to view her cowering and motionless, as though she had never been anything anymore.

Anger stacked up within me, angry, bloody. I shook my head back and fought to breathe steadily.

Thou art slow, old woman, slowest work, said Alistair, without glancing at her.

She continued to hold her head low and refilled his glass, which seemed to her to be the hundredth time. Her eyes flicked to me--wary not to cause a reaction, begging me not to do it.

Imogen smiled and stretched out her glass in feigned sweetness. “You forgot mine.”

Mom filled it very rapidly, and she was mumbling about how sorry she was, which she was not. The lips of Imogen curled in a smirk as she tilted the glass down a bit. The wine over her plain blue dress.

“Oops.” Her hand went up to her mouth in feigned astonishment.

My fists tightened. “You did that on purpose.”

The eyebrows of Imogen rose in an expression of innocence. “Sorry… and who are you again?”

I stalemated with the words, scratching to get out. I am his true mate. But I said nothing.

Snap, snap, Elowen, the voice of Alistair cut off, like a whiplash. “That is your Luna. Watch your tongue.”

I got to my knees, kneeling by my mother to pick up the pieces of glass, when Alistair said his word into the room.

“Sit.”

All the nerves cried to me to defy him. Then I caught a glimpse of the eyes of my mother, pleading with me to do so, pleading with me not to cause her pain. Now I swallowed my pride and sank into my chair. My eyes got foggy, but I suppressed the tears. I had sworn to myself that I should never see Alistair again crying, and I meant it.

I am sorry, Luna, my mother said in a kind of voice. “I’m sure the glass slipped.”

Imogen sneered and away she turned.

My throat lump increased. I fancied fleeing out of that hall, but I felt that this was the game of Alistair. He wanted me here. He wanted me to watch.

All around, there were wolves with their mates, laughter and joy lifting in the air as the Moonlit Gathering went on. Of what should have been mine, a warning.

“Will you dance with me, my love?” Alistair inquired, rose, and extended to Imogen.

She giggled. “Yes, my Alpha.”

He brought her onto the dance floor, and he did not forget to turn his head in my direction. You might mix, Elowen... none would take you, I think.

The words sank like knives.

I looked about to see my mother, but she melted into the crowd, busy with the other omegas.

My heart tight, I pushed past bodies to the door. The hall seemed infinite; the door was too distant. Some pushed me about, and their elbows are so sharp against my ribs that I thought that they were taking pleasure in it.

Then the music faltered. The dancers stilled mid-step.

I stood paralyzed in confusion till I caught the cause.

Two men had entered the hall.

Visitors came and went the whole evening, yet these two were not the same. I could feel it--the pressure of their presence forcing down into the air--even before the crowd dispersed, even before I drew in their faces. Their beauty was impressive, unnatural, yet it was something bigger. Power clung to them like armour.

I recognised one of them. I had heard of him before, painted and told in secret. Alpha Garrick of the Duskbane Pack.

Near him was his Beta, Rowan, a man of less threatening aura.

They moved forward, and the hall became quiet. Nor, even as they approached, did Alistair, though great as he was, seem less.

Alistair stepped into their path and said, Welcome, Alpha Garrick. You had not been told you would honour us with your presence.

But Garrick didn’t pause. He didn’t glance at him. He passed Alistair as a shadow on the wall.

Straight toward me.

I couldn’t move. His body was close to my body, heat and danger combined. He was such a man as I had never seen--there was strength in every stride, and there were eyes that were not attracted by fear only but by something still more, a magnet.

I stepped aside, with a heart that throbbed. Why was he coming to me?

Then towering above me, he paused. His smell enfolded me--luxurious, acute, devouring. I could hear my mind screaming to move, but my body wouldn't.

His voice was deep, gritty, and sure. “Mate.”

The world tilted. No. That couldn’t be.

I shook my head, but ere I could move away, his hands clapped round me. Strong, unyielding. He drew me to himself, and his eyes were fixed upon mine with the challenge of compelling me to deny it.

Then his mouth crushed mine.

I felt shock, but all the gasps that shook the hall. He had warm lips, slow, taking my breath. I stood still, stiff, and could not kiss her in any way; could not do anything but wait the tempest of whispers that gained upon us.

He drew aside and leaned near, so that only I could hear.

“Kiss me back, Elowen.”

The words set fire to my veins.