CHAPTER FIVE: WHAT TF DOES HE MEAN?

1272 Words
Tyra’s POV “I cannot believe I am actually doing this,” I muttered, shoving the last of my clothes into the suitcase. The zipper caught halfway, snagging on a piece of lace, and I yanked it with a jagged force that made my knuckles ache. “Three weeks. Just three damn weeks. Then I am out”. I looked into the mirror beside the bedroom door, and for a second, I did not recognize the woman staring back. I looked scattered, pale, and far too harried. A crazy contrast to the clean and sterile room behind me. I had built the place to keep the world out. No wolf scents. No dominance. No hierarchy. And certainly no room for the agonizing feeling that had been clawing at my insides since I had agreed to return. My chest tightened as I breathed in the scentless, filtered air of my apartment. “Just the ceremony,” I told myself, the words a hollow mantra as I sprayed my scent suppressor. “I will go, play the dutiful daughter, and leave immediately.” But as I heard the light knock on my door, a wave of dread settled in my stomach. “Tàitai Tyra, the car is waiting,” my housekeeper’s voice called out. “The driver says the jet leaves in forty minutes.” "Tell him I will be down when I am ready!" I hissed out, my voice sharp with a defensive edge I could not quite blunt. "It is a private jet, for goddess's sake. Why will I have a tight deadline?" The reality of the Forrest influence was everywhere, from the Rolls-Royce waiting downstairs to the high-altitude luxury of the jet that carried me across the ocean. For fourteen hours of the flight to America, I sat in that cabin, the vibration of the engines humming through my bones like the phantom touch from my dreams. Every time I closed my eyes, I either felt the heat of those unseen men, their hands mapping my skin until I woke up slick with sweat and shivering with a need that felt like an insult to my intelligence, or my father’s body jerking as the bullets slammed into it. By the time the wheels finally touched the tarmac in Montana, I felt like I had been through a wringer. Only for me to be blinded by paparazzi lenses flashing like strobe lights as soon as I stepped off the plane. “Dr. Valerius, is it true you are moving back permanently?” “Do you still consider yourself a Forrest?” I ignored the press, kept my head down, and followed the path the security team Lucius sent carved through the crowd and climbed into the waiting car. My pulse raced as we drove away from the busy city into the calmer, more rural areas where the one percent of the state’s wealthy had their country estates. The words wolfless defect and stain on the lineage echoed in my mind like an earworm as I watched the buildings melt away into the ancient, suffocating green of the Crescent Moon territory. As we crossed the security gates into the thirty thousand acres of pack land, the air changed. It became heavy, thick with the scent of pine, earth, and the unmistakable musk of hundreds of wolves. My skin began to tingle, a low-voltage current jumping under my surface as we pulled up the gravel driveway to the estate. I stepped out of the car immediately it stopped, straightened my shoulders, and quickly headed for the Alpha family’s villa, ignoring the way heads turned and the whispers that trailed behind me like smoke. My mother’s voice drifted from one of the sitting rooms as I stepped into the foyer. Only to freeze the moment I reached the living room doorway. Alaric and Osric were standing with their backs to me, their figures towering as they discussed something in low tones with their parents. Even from behind, Alaric looked like armor made of flesh and bone, while Osric was just as impressive; he radiated a sharp, golden warmth unlike his twin’s coldness. I gulped as that familiar, maddening tug unfurled deep in my chest as I looked at them. Almost like an ache of recognition that made my knees feel weak. I wanted to run before they noticed me. I wanted to find a hotel and never look back. But as I turned to leave, Alaric’s nostrils suddenly flared. He stiffened, his shoulders locking into a rigid line. “Why didn’t you tell me she was coming today?” He asked his parents without even bothering to turn around and acknowledge me, his voice low and sharp like he was angry. My breath caught. The familiar words of rejection hit harder than they should have. But I was so not going to take his rudeness this time around. Lucius blinked, startled at his tone. “Alaric—” “Don’t.” He turned slightly, his glare like frost as he stared at me. “You should have warned me”. I ignored the tightening in my chest as I met his eyes and stepped forward. “This is my f*****g home too!” I snapped, my voice fierce and angry. “If you do not want me here, you can f**k o—” A low, primal growl cut me off. It was so deep, it vibrated through the floorboards and straight up my spine. Osric had turned, his usual blue eyes flickering into a molten, amber-gold. His chest rose and fell in ragged heaves as he inhaled sharply, his wolf surging to the surface. He looked like a predator that had finally found its prey. “Ossy?” Lucius whispered, his brow furrowing in confusion. But Osric ignored him, turning, his gaze locked on me, pupils dilating. He sniffed again, then in a blur of motion, he was in front of me before I could even blink, the space between us gone in a heartbeat. The air around him pulsed with heat and power. “Osric,” Alaric barked, his voice laced with warning. But Osric paid him no mind and leaned forward, his nose brushing the sensitive skin of my neck as he took a sharp, purposeful breath. I stayed perfectly still, my heart stuttering in my chest, terrified that any movement would trigger a total shift. “Wh-what is he doing?” I whispered to my parents urgently. “Get him to stop.” Osric’s chest rumbled again, a deep, possessive growl that made my own body betray me. My p***y gave a sharp, wet throb, a humiliating response to the sheer dominance radiating off him. My mother gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh goddess—” Lucius’s face drained of color as he stared at his son. “No way...” Osric’s voice came out rough, a raw, non-human rasp that seemed to tear through the very air. “Mate”. The word was a thunderclap. I froze, every muscle in my body locking as the world tilted on its axis. “What... what the f**k did he just—?” I looked past Osric’s shoulder, searching for my mother, only to freeze on the look on Alaric’s face. He was not surprised. He stood with his jaw tight, his eyes hard with an expression of resignation. Lucius noticed the suspicious look on my face and followed my eyes. His brows raised as he looked at his son, his voice low and accusing as the truth settled into the room. “You knew.”
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