The broken Alpha - Healed by innocence

Her duty

*Callista*

I am married. I am someone's mate, wife and Luna.

I stare at the wide band of filigreed silver on my finger, not surprised to find it doesn't fit properly. Bending my finger to keep the ring from slipping off, I fear nothing in my life will ever feel right again.

People I have never met introduce themselves, the men smiling broadly as though their happiness for my husband knows no bounds, the few she-wolves wiping tears from their eyes as though they know I am doomed to unhappiness. All call me Luna Moonshadow. I am not comfortable with the name, but I can't dredge up the courage to ask them to call me Callista.

Men congratulate Chase, pumping his hand, while she-wolves kiss his cheek, yet he never lets his eyes stray from me. My mind has turned into a freshly painted blackboard, erased clean of all previous thoughts and shared knowledge. I seem unable to remember the simplest of statements. He is my mate now, and I have no idea how to uphold my end of the vows we exchanged… how to honor him.

When my mother became incapacitated, my world shrank until it encompassed little more than her bedroom, my family, and works of fiction. Until this moment, I didn't realize how ill-prepared I was to become a Luna.

Like vultures anticipating their prey's final breath, my brothers stand on the other side of the unfurnished parlor, their arms folded over their chests, their gazes locked onto Chase as though they are waiting for him to make a mistake. I pray that he won't.

Music begins to slowly drift across the room. People shuffle back, leaving an empty space in the center of the floor. At the far edge of the circle, a white-haired man plays a fiddle.

Chase extends his hand toward me. "Would you honor me with a dance?"

I lift my gaze to his and quickly lower it. "No. I mean... I don't know how to dance."

"It's not hard. I'll guide you." He says softly.

I shake my head briskly. "Please, not in front of all these people."

"Give me your hand." He says.

Wishing the floor would suddenly c***k open and swallow me, I curl my fingers until my nails dig into my palms.

"Trust me," he says quietly.

I think I hear an edge of desperation in his voice, and only then do I realize how he must appear to his friends, his family… holding his hand toward me while I blatantly ignore it. Since no one else is dancing, I assume everyone expects that the bride and groom will dance first, no doubt alone, the center of attention. Without looking at him, I take a deep ragged breath and slip my trembling hand into his. Strong and coarse, his fingers close around mine.

"We're going to step outside for some fresh air," he announces in an authoritative voice as he addresses the gathering. "Enjoy the music."

I fear I might weep with relief as he guides me through the doors. As soon as I step onto the veranda, I release his hand and walk to the far corner. “Thank you.”

The music floats through the open door, laughter and voices mingling with the soft strains. My mate’s footsteps echo around me as he nears. My mate. Dear Goddess, what have I done?

“I suppose your father told you that I was a mean-hearted bastard.” He says.

I spin around, my eyes wide. Chase Moonshadow studies me, his face grim.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, he did.” I admit.

“What else has he called me?” He asks.

I swallow. “A thief.”

He raises a dark brow as though amused, and I am unable to stop myself from throwing the rest at him. “And a cheat.”

“Yet he gave his blessing for your marriage.” He mumbles.

Humiliation swamps me as tears spring to my eyes. “Because you offered him something that he valued more than he valued me.” I turn away, squeezing my eyes shut, fighting back the burning river of shame. “I’m not certain I can forgive you for that.”

“I don’t need your forgiveness. You can hate me, for all I care, but it won’t change the fact that you are now my wife and my Luna.” He says.

I flinch at the cold, ruthless reminder. He curses harshly, and I wonder if he might strike me. With his large, powerful hands, he would be able to inflict a great deal of damage in a very short time.

“I don’t imagine you ever expected your wedding to go exactly as it did today,” he says, his resonant voice enveloping me like a mist at dawn. “I’m sorry for that.”

I dare to look at him. “Sorry enough to let me leave?”

“No.” He says. “Also I do not believe that would be doing you any favours.”

I won’t beg, but dear Goddess, I want to fall to my knees and plead with this man for mercy and freedom.

His gaze drops to my lips, his hazel eyes smoldering with an emotion I can’t identify. I don’t think he is angry, but my wariness increases.

“Where did you learn to kiss?” he asks.

I run my tongue over my tingling lips, and his eyes darken further. “Books. I read a lot of books.”

He nods slightly. “I reckon the she-wolves in those books always pucker up to kiss.”

“Yes, they do,” I answer, wondering how he has drawn that conclusion from my simple statement, only one answer quickly coming to my mind. “Perhaps we have read the same books.”

“I doubt it,” he says, his voice low. He cradles my cheek. “Don’t pucker sweetheart.”

Before I can protest, he covers my mouth with his. I had barely noticed when he had kissed me before, but now I realize his lips are warm, pliant. I hadn't expected that of a man as hard as he is rumored to be.

His beard is soft, reminding me of the fur of a puppy I once owned, a puppy Rowan had killed for the fun of it, as he said.

Chase slowly rubs his thumb along the tender flesh beneath my chin. “Relax your jaw,” he whispers against my mouth, his breath strangely sweet and warm as it fans over my cheek. Another thing about him that I had not expected.

“Why…” I learn the answer before I have fully formed the question.

His questing tongue slips between my parted lips and waltzes in rhythm to the lilting music I still hear in the background.

Bold. Strong. Like the wind before a storm, a tempest sweeping across the horizon.

“You couldn’t even wait until your guests left to taste her again,” Rowan says, his voice rife with disgust.

Chase draws away from the kiss. Mortified, I would have stepped away from him but his hand tightens on my neck.

With anger blazing within his eyes, Chase looks at Rowan. “I don’t think anyone would find fault with a husband stealing a kiss from his new bride.”

“Well now, you would be the one to know about stealing, wouldn’t you?” Rowan asks.

I'm close enough to see Chase’s nostrils flare. He reminds me of a raging bull. For a moment, when his lips had touched mine, I had almost forgotten that he is the man my family hates, the man who had broken Rowan’s arm, the man who had revealed exactly what I was worth to my father. I start shaking, suddenly feeling cold where I had only moments before felt warmth.

“Please let me go,” I whisper, wishing I didn’t sound like a starving beggar willing to settle for crumbs.

Chase looks at me, no anger shining in his eyes, and I wonder how he changes his emotions so quickly. His callused hand slides away from my neck.

When he returns his attention to Rowan, the anger accompanies him. “Because your sister deserves fonder memories of her wedding day than we have given her so far, I will overlook that remark. You wanted something?”

“A private moment with my sister.” Rowan huffs.

Chase shifts his gaze between the two of us as though he trusts neither of us. I don’t know why that knowledge hurts.

“I need to tell our guests to move the celebration outside so they can enjoy the beef my men prepared. If your sister isn’t standing in this spot when I get back, my fence will remain where it is.” Chase says coldly.

“Then you would be going back on your word.” My brother growls.

Chase takes a menacing step toward Rowan. Rowan flinches.

“Man to man,” Chase says, his voice low, “you know I want more than words exchanged before I will pull my fence back. Don’t try to cheat me out of what is now mine by right.”

He shoulders his way past Rowan and disappears into the house. I wrap my arms around myself and press my back against the cool adobe wall. “I can’t stay here, Rowan,” I whisper.

He crosses the small distance separating us, his eyes hard. “You have got no choice, Callista.”

I long for someone to put his arms around me, to hold me close, to comfort me, but my family consists of men who never express themselves with anything but their voices.

Rowan clamps his fingers around the veranda railing instead of holding my trembling hand. “Believe it or not, I did come out here to talk to you.”

He appears to be on the verge of delivering bad tidings, and I wonder if my father is more ill than I realize. “Is it Father?” I ask.

“No, but since he is not here and Mother is dead, the chore falls to me, and I don’t want you going to Moonshadow’s bed not knowing what to expect.”

A scalding heat rushes through my body, my heart thundering. “Rowan”

“It’s gotta be said, Callista, for your sake. It will go a lot easier on you if you don’t fight him. Just crawl into his bed, lift up your nightgown, and lie as still as you can.” He says.

I squeeze my eyes shut to block out the images his words bring to mind. “I can’t do this,” I whisper hoarsely.

“If you don’t, you will kill Father’s dream, and probably him along with it. Is that what you want?” Rowan huffs.

I open my eyes. “We have moved before. Why not find land that has more water?”

“For f**k’s sake! We thought we had the land and water when we moved here, but that bastard you married stole it from us. Now we have a chance to get it back if you do your duty.”

My duty. I force myself to nod and wonder where I will find the strength.