The First Dinner
1057 Words
Lyra's Pov
He's late to our first dinner, and I don't know if it's a power play or avoidance.
I sat alone at the long table in the private dining room, wearing the formal gown the staff had chosen for me. The mark on my neck was fully visible, just like he had requested. The room was beautiful in a cold way. Candles flickered between the plates set for two. Everything felt too intimate and too empty at the same time. I kept my hands in my lap and practiced what I might say when he finally arrived. My heart would not slow down.
Twenty minutes passed. Then thirty. The staff who brought the first course looked uncomfortable. They avoided my eyes and left quickly. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. Was he making me wait on purpose? Was he sitting somewhere in this compound right now, letting the minutes run just to remind me exactly what I was in this arrangement? I thought about standing up and walking out, but where would I go? This compound was his world. I was just the new piece in it.
Margaret appeared in the doorway after another twenty minutes. "Alpha sends his apologies. He has been delayed in meetings."
I nodded like it did not bother me, but inside I felt small. Another twenty minutes dragged by. The food grew cold on my plate. I pushed it around with my fork, my stomach too twisted to eat. This was my life now. Waiting for a man who might be my mate but treated me like a business deal.
The door finally opened.
Theron walked in without rushing. No real apology beyond what Margaret had already said. I stood up quickly, trying to remember the protocol Celeste drilled into me. "Alpha."
He stopped just inside the room and looked at me fully for the first time since the contract meeting. His control was better tonight, but I saw the tiny crack. His red-gold eyes lingered on the mark on my neck. His jaw tightened for half a second before the mask locked back into place.
"Sit," he said, voice deep and short.
We both sat down. The staff served the main course and left us alone fast, like they could feel the tension in the air. Silence stretched between us. Theron ate methodically, not looking at me. Not speaking. The pull between us felt suffocating. My wolf whined inside me, desperate to get closer. I gripped the edge of the table to keep still.
"Are you going to ignore me the entire marriage?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Theron glanced up, cold. "We are not married yet. The ceremony is in three days."
"Semantics," I muttered.
"Specifics matter in contracts."
The ice between us was thick, but underneath it something else ran. Something that had nothing to do with contracts or territories or political advantage. I could see it in the way he held his fork. His wolf was fighting the exact same battle mine was, and losing just as badly.
He asked a few formal questions after that. "Are your rooms acceptable? Do you have everything you need? Is the staff treating you well?"
I answered stiffly. "Yes. Everything is fine."
The silence came back. I gathered what courage I had left. "Why did you choose me?"
Theron paused with his knife halfway to his mouth. His answer came carefully and measuredly. "Political advantage. Your pack's territory borders resources I need."
I pushed a little more. "You could have chosen an unmated woman. Someone without a mark."
His eyes flashed with something sharp. "Does it bother you that I do not care about your mark?"
The question felt loaded. I met his gaze even though my hands were shaking under the table. "Does it bother you that I have one?"
The air crackled between us. He stood up abruptly, chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Finish your dinner. Someone will show you tomorrow's schedule."
He started walking toward the door, clearly fleeing the conversation. My desperation boiled over. "I know it was you."
Theron froze with his back to me. The silence stretched so long I thought he might not respond.
He turned slowly. "What did you say?"
I stood up too, legs shaky but voice determined. "In the forest. The stranger who marked me. It was you."
His mask cracked right there. Raw emotion bled through for a moment. Anger. Pain. Something deeper that I did not have a name for. "You are mistaken."
"I am not," I said, stepping closer. "Your eyes. Your scent. The way my mark burns when you are near."
Theron crossed the distance in two strides. He towered over me suddenly, close enough that I could feel the heat of his body. His hands gripped my arms. The first real touch since the forest. Electricity shot through me. His grip was firm but not painful, like he was fighting himself.
"Listen to me carefully," he said, voice low and rough. "Whoever marked you is gone. I am not him. Accept the contract for what it is."
"Why are you lying?" I whispered, searching his face.
His next words came out anguished, almost broken. "Because the truth would destroy us both."
He released me like I burned him and stepped back. Without another word, he turned and left the dining room. The door closed behind him with a soft click that felt too loud in the empty space.
I stood there alone, shaking. That was not a denial. It was an admission wrapped in fear. He knows. He knows exactly who I am and he is choosing to hide it.
I touched my mark and felt his anguish echo through the bond he was pretending did not exist. Whatever reason he had for hiding the truth, it was killing him as much as it was killing me.
- Writer
