The Alpha's Reluctant Wife

Chapter 10: Chiara

I smiled at Connor as he approached us, but deep inside, my heart was pounding. Lance looked unaffected, though. Perhaps slightly angry, with a slight furrow between his brows and lips quirked down. Other than those reactions, he seemed wholly calm.

I wished I could be as composed as him. My hands were already starting to shake again, and I had to repeatedly pinch my skin to ground myself. There was a prickling feeling on my neck, as if someone was watching me. It's as if Adrian was staring at me with disappointment.

'Who do you belong to?' His voice inside my head asked.

'You belong with me. Too broken for anyone else other than her Alpha. I own you, Chiara. You're mine. Mine, mine, mine—'

"Madam?"

I jolted out of my trance and found Connor staring at me worriedly. The mismatched colors of gray and blue in his eyes were more prominent in the early morning sun. He wasn't looking at me like I was a traitor set for the gallows. He wasn't readily dragging me towards the compound and telling Adrian what I'd done.

"Maybe the Madam needs some rest," Lance spoke softly. His hand was raised to touch me, but he stopped midway and dropped it on the marble bench. Instead, he let Connor help me to my feet.

"I agree. I agree," Connor said, steering me out of the hedge maze. "This is all your fault, Rogue."

Lance and I both tensed up.

"You didn't scare and chase her around the maze, did you?"

My shoulders slumped, and I heard Lance chuckle. "What am I, a bully? Connor, you think too lowly of me."

"You didn't give me any chance to think otherwise."

"Rogue found me sitting on the bench," I interrupted them while glancing at Lance to check if he knew what I was building on. "Watching the fight earlier... I don't think I've seen anything like it. I apologize for my sensitivity. I just needed a breather, Connor."

Connor's eyes softened. It wasn't like how Lance looked at me. There was a fire in the Rogue's gaze, a flame that could escalate from warmth to scalding hot. Lance's eyes get hooded, his lashes fluttering minuscule before the edges crinkled in a slight smile—

Why was I comparing him to Connor?

Why was I even thinking of him?

"Oh, no. Oh, no. We'll get you settled in your room, then you can rest," Connor said. "Rogue, let's go. I'll continue your briefing after."

The three of us went back to the mansion, and by the time I closed my door, all I could see was Lance's smile as he waved goodbye.

***

Thankfully, the following days were uneventful. Adrian came back from his trip none the wiser. Connor had no idea what had truly transpired in the hedge maze.

As for my new bodyguard, Lance maintained his professionalism. Or tried to.

Although Adrian rarely let me leave his sight, there were still times when Lance and I would've had to be left together when he went out on business trips. During these moments, Adrian had assigned Connor as Lance's partner. It quickly became Lance's goal to tease and annoy the poor shifter. I often let the two of them mess around while I passed my time or did my duties as the Pack Alpha's Wife.

Our moment in the hedge maze was gradually forgotten, pushed back to the very back of our minds. I didn't know what had come over me back then. My sole agenda was to only use Lance. I needed the tool to break free from Adrian's clutches, and I believed the Rogue would be the one. However, my wolf acted up and carelessly got swayed by the Alpha's charms. It wouldn't happen again. I had to make sure of it.

Despite the lingering warmth in my hand from his lips, I tried to keep my distance from Lance and observe him from afar.

Unfortunately, the peaceful days had come to pass quicker than I'd like. After Adrian freed up his schedule, he set the date for Lance's Initiation Ceremony.

The Rogue had a reputation in the city and far beyond, and word immediately spread about Galway's Pack's acceptance of him. Adrian was met with varying comments. Some packs were glad the Rogue could finally be tamed, while others preferred him dead. Adrian stood by his decision.

Soon enough, it was the night of the Initiation Ceremony.

I stood behind Adrian as he recited the Pack Rites. Before us, all the members of the Galway Pack watched their Pack Alpha take in another member. Lance was kneeling on a raised platform, his upper torso bare for all to see.

My eyes skimmed his muscles, tanned skin glowing orange from the casted fire in braziers surrounding us. His body was covered with multiple scars. Some had long since healed, while others were still fresh and pinkish. However, one scar stood out among the rest. It was a jagged line from his right shoulder to his navel. A single claw mark deep enough that the skin surrounding it still appeared a bit reddish.

As my eyes slid back to Lance's face, I found him staring at me. A pair of black voids held me hostage, unable to look away.

His wounds told a heavy story about his life... a life of danger and brutality. What had happened for him to be branded as a Rogue? What exactly did he do?

Lance's eyes provided no answers for me.

"Do you accept being a member of the Galway Pack?" Adrian asked as he finished reading the Rites.

Lance gulped before nodding. "Yes."

"Do you swear to uphold the Pack's values, contribute to the betterment of our community, and shun all things that could be detrimental to us?"

"Yes."

"Recite your oath."

Lance stood up, pressed his right hand above his heart, and then turned around to look at the assembled members of the Galway Pack.

"I, Lance," he said, voice loud and clear. It shouldn't have been surprising to hear him address himself with his first name only, considering that he was a Rogue, but it still made me wonder if the rumors were true.

"Accept the gracious offer of Alpha Adrian Galway, and swear fealty to his pack, to pledge my life and loyalty to it, and to protect and defend it with all my strength," Lance continued.

"By the Goddess and my authority, I declare you part of the Galway Pack." Adrian motioned for one of his betas, and a man stepped forward carrying a hot branding iron. The metal showed the Pack's symbol, the head of a wolf crowned in golden laurel. The beta positioned the hot iron on Lance's lower back and then pressed it against his skin.

Lance's muscles tensed, but he didn't make any sound even as his skin sizzled from the burn. The gathering was silent, shifters watching the scene undecided whether to celebrate or despair. This was their Pack Alpha's will. They had no right over the matter, no right to protest.

The Rogue Wolf had a new scar, a new owner, and a new vow.

Whether it would lead him to a new life, nothing but time could tell.