The Alpha's Chosen Bride

The Waxing Moon

“You don’t even know him!” Patricia pleaded in a voice that seemed desperate and confused, even as she looked around the enormous, beautiful home that she had been escorted to the evening before.

She had thought Sergio had finally come to his senses, but as the evening wore on and the lawyers began putting documents in front of her to sign, carefully explaining that her marriage was over, that her husband no longer wanted her, but if she wished to keep her son, it would be best if she signed the settlement that was extremely generous without argument. When she saw the millions of dollars, the homes, the cars and even the security detail that would protect her and her son for life, she resigned her hopes and signed her name.

It wasn’t that Patricia had greed in heart. She knew Sergio was buying her off, but this was better than him coming to her smelling of other women’s perfume in his hair, the long days when he neither came nor called and the laughter of the women who had once been her friends when she said that Sergio would come to his senses.

Her humiliation had been complete, but now she had to take back what she could for her son and for herself. What she couldn’t understand was why her sister was insisting that she accompany her to some chateaux in France with the man who had the reputation of being the devil himself. Her sister was about to make the same mistake she had made and trust in the lies.

There was something strange about that family, something different. It made the men irresistible and the women strangely possessive. She knew because just a small taste of Sergio and her usual sensibilities had gone out the window. She had given in to everything he wanted, hadn’t even thought of the career she was throwing in the toilet and when he mentioned marriage, she had leapt with joy into his arms. No thoughts of what might follow, no questions as to why he had asked, it was only joy that finally she knew that she meant enough to him that she could give him the ultimate gift a woman can bestow-herself. She had given him a son.

Later, her joy became ash in her mouth as she wept over all the women he was with while she was swollen with his child, sick and near death with her blood sugar sky-high and her kidneys failing.

Somehow she survived her son’s birth. To this day, she could remember the look of disappointment in his eyes as the doctor had told him she would live. Her tears had dried now and she was ready to live again. He would take nothing more.

Fear cramped her guts as she was watching Solange do the same thing with his brother, a man she knew was a million times more powerful. He would use her and throw her away like a dirty napkin and her heart was breaking for her. She could feel the pain he would cause Solange sear through her entire body like a great wave of burning fire, knowing it was hers alone now, but Solange would share that pain.

Solange pulled into the driveway to Patricia’s new home, already armed with the passcode for the gates. She recited to herself the words that she would use to comfort her sister, prepared herself for the wraith-like woman her sister had become since marrying Sergio. She would take her shopping with the credit cards that now lined her very expensive new wallet. Dante had spared no expense when he had her kitted out as his bride. She had walked into the closet in his room to find an enormous space, one lined with his suits and ties. The other side of the large space was complete with all women’s clothes.

At first, rage had run through her like a tide of fire, frightening her with the way it actually burned behind her eyes. Then behind her a small voice interrupted her silent tantrum with a soft, “Excuse me, Miss Fairchild. I’ve been instructed to finish bringing in your clothes and shoes. Mr. Giamanco would be most unhappy with me if you were to be unhappy.” Solange turned to see a girl not much younger than she, carrying in boxes of designer shoes. She smiled with such pleasure at Solange as she slipped by, putting the shoes into perfectly built in boxes; all the colours coordinated with the clothes. It was like a rainbow of designer gilt.

The turned and grinned at Solange and then squealed, “I never thought my cousin would finally fall in love, but here it is and I don’t care that you’re human. You’re so lovely, inside and out. I would know, of course, I’m an empath, so I can tell these things immediately.”

Solange had been dumbstruck. Human? Well, what else was she supposed to be? Then she shrugged inwardly. Every family had that one person who was touched a bit and she seemed sweet. Before she could say anything, the girl grabbed her in a hug and said, “We’re going to be great friends! I’m Eleni, and I’m the stylist of the family.” Then, she wrapped an arm around her waist, and with a surprisingly strong grip, led her through the closet, showing her all the things she had chosen for her.

It was obvious that she did indeed have style, because despite the girl’s young age, she was impeccably dressed and her hair fell down her back in perfect waves of ebony. The clothes she had chosen were clothes that Solange only dreamed of owning. The two girls had delighted in going through all the designs, squealed in delight over the shoes and matching outfits.

It was heaven for a girl who had forever been chained to thrift stores and sales racks. This was a dream come true.

The two girls had a wonderful day and were only interrupted by a surprise visit from Dante. Only oddly, Solange had felt him in her blood well before he leaned nonchalantly on the frame of the closet door, smiling indolently at the two girls. It was as if for a moment nothing else existed at that moment but him. She could feel his heartbeat pumping in her own blood and she had the strangest urge to run and bite him. She put her hand to her own mouth in sudden shock at her strange urge and Dante laughed, as if he knew what she was thinking. Then she laughed too, unable to hide her complete joy at the sight of him, and ran to his arms in abandon.

He lifted her and her legs wrapped around his waist, his mouth seeking hers with fervent abandon. Their bodies melded together, his hands twisting into her hair as he devoured her, not just with his mouth, but with his entire being. Their passion was so erotic, so incredibly undeniable that Eleni stared with open shock. Never had she seen such an unbreakable bond between two souls, the joining of their entire beings lighting and sending tendrils of fire all around them. The heat that emanated from their joining singed her, and her heart understood for the first time what she had been lacking in her own soul--a mate. It was a beautiful and undeniable sight.