Wicked lessons from the Alpha

A bit of a lesson

*Faye*

The coach rattles through the streets, its interior engulfed in a thick and heavy silence, mirroring the settling fog. Hunter occupies the seat opposite mine, and as I gaze out the window, I sense his eyes fixated on me.

"You cheated," I utter softly.

"So did you." He points out.

I make no effort to deny it, for cheating and lying are distinct transgressions.

"Then I shouldn't be obligated to fulfill the favor," I assert.

"Would you have shown such magnanimity if our roles were reversed?" He asks.

My sigh bears impatience and a tinge of anger. I had anticipated him to conduct himself as a gentleman, not a scoundrel. Yet, I shouldn't be taken aback. The rumors I have heard about his moral compass losing its way apparently hold truth. And curse him, even if I had won unfairly, I would have demanded his compliance with the favor.

"No, you are absolutely right. We were evenly matched, regardless of the outcome." I admit.

Casting a sidelong glance at him, I rub my hands up and down my arms. "I appreciate your discretion in withholding my desires from them."

He shrugs off his jacket, leans across the space between us, and drapes it over my shoulders.

"So warm," I murmur, inhaling the scent of cigar, whiskey, and something deeper, darker, uniquely him. "It carries your essence."

He shakes his head. "Don't try to divert me from my purpose here. Rid yourself of this absurd notion that I could assist you in any way on your quest for a profound love. You must know the qualities you seek in a man. Finding love is a personal journey, Faye."

"I understand," I sigh, nodding and glancing back out the window. "Alpha Bentley then, I suppose."

"What about him?" His words carry tension.

I give him a small smile. "I believe his affections are genuine. He has expressed that I am beautiful, that he dreams of me each night."

"But so do I." He says.

My heart pounds, and I snap my head around to gaze at Hunter's silhouette. I yearn to see his eyes, but they remain concealed in the shadows. He moves, effortlessly and swiftly, until his hand tenderly caresses my cheek… a gentle touch that almost feels nonexistent, yet still manages to sear my skin.

I inhale his rugged, masculine scent, the distance between us barely perceptible.

"You are incredibly beautiful," he murmurs, his voice a low rasp that sends delightful shivers coursing through me. "I have contemplated confessing my infatuation, but we have been friends for so long that I feared you might find it amusing..."

"No, never," I assure him.

His voice wrapping around me. "In my dreams, we are atop a hillock, lying on the cool grass, our bodies so close that they generate a warmth akin to the sun shining upon us."

"Hunter!" I gasp.

"Were Bentley's words as sweet?" He asks.

I shake my head. "Not quite, but close enough."

"And you believed such nonsense?" He asks.

I freeze, not daring to even breathe. "Do you think he lied?"

He leans back. "All men lie, Faye, to acquire what they desire."

Hunter's sweet words held no meaning. What a fool I have been to be enticed...

I lash out, delivering a forceful punch to his shoulder. "You scoundrel!"

His laughter resonates, dark and rough, as he settles back into his seat across from me. "You deserved that. Within a week, you have ruined two of my evenings."

"Why? Because I presented you with a challenge tonight? No one plays cards as skillfully as I do." I say.

"No one cheats as skillfully as you do." He huffs.

"Except for you." The knowledge irritates me because, like Lupo, he has always allowed me to win. Yet, in this instance, I believed I had surpassed him. The scoundrel. "So tell me, when it comes to Bentley, how can I distinguish truth from lies?"

He shrugs. "If the words are overly sweet, they are insincere."

"Always?" I ask.

He nods. "Always."

"So, if a man tells me I am beautiful, should I dismiss him as a suitor?" I feel confused.

"It would be wise to do so, although there may be exceptions." He says.

"Do you tell women they are beautiful?" I ask.

He nods again. "Constantly."

"And you never mean it?" I want to know more.

His harsh sigh reverberates within the confines of the coach. "The words are meant to make a she-wolf feel cherished, to seduce her. To make her believe that she alone holds my interest… and for the moment, she does. But she won't keep me for long."

"So, you will break her heart." I mumble.

"I am honest, Faye. The women in my life have no false expectations." He points out.

I huff slightly. "I believe you are mistaken about Bentley."

"Ask around. I'm certain you will discover he has used those words on others." He simply says.

"Oh, yes, let me be seen as a fool," I retort, rubbing my arms beneath his jacket. A sudden chill seizes me once again. "What else should I be wary of?"

He breathes in slowly. "False flattery is often poetic, absurd, and overly flowery. At least mine is."

"You never flattered Jessamine?" I ask.

"We shall not discuss my courtship of Jessamine. Ever." He half growl.

I pull away slightly. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize for it. Just heed my words." He mumbles.

"As you wish. Let's return to the matter at hand… the lesson you intended to teach. I feel like such a fool. Here I am, with numerous men declaring their affections, yet I struggle to discern their true intentions. Even though you urge me to trust my own heart."

He shakes his head. "Bentley is not..."

"As you refuse to assist me, I'm uncertain if I should value your opinion on the matter." I say.

"It's not my opinion. It's a fact." He counters.

As the coach turns onto the circular drive, the horses slow down. Soon, the driver brings the vehicle to a stop. A servant opens the door, and Hunter steps out before handing me down. He offers his arm, and I take it as he escorts me up the stairs.

"How can you be so certain about Alpha Bentley?" I inquire.

"I know Alpha Bentley," he replies.

Turning to face him, I reach up without thinking and brush the thick strands of dark hair away from his forehead.

"Can a man not change?" I ask.

"You deserve better than a man who needs to change," he asserts.

Chuckling softly, I allow my hand to lightly rest on his shoulder, feeling the firmness, the stability, the strength. "Now I am skeptical of all compliments."

"I would never deceive you, Faye." He promises.

My hand slides down slightly, coming to rest on his chest, where I can feel the steady beat of his heart. However, he seems oblivious to it.

"Yet, you did deceive me in the coach," I point out.

"That was merely a lesson, one I hope you took to heart." He says.

I sigh. "You are a dreadful teacher. It's as if you have taken a switch to my palm."

"It is not my intention to harm you, but to protect you from harm." He says softly.

Releasing a quick breath, I step back. "So, in the future, I won't take flowery words to heart." I glance up at the eaves. "Unless, of course, I know the person to be a poet."

"Not even then, Faye." He mumbles.

"We shall see what my heart tells me. One more question." I say.

"There's always one more question with you," he grumbles.

Ignoring his irritability, I continue. "Do you think you might consider attending the Midsummer Eve's celebration hosted by my family?"

"Probably not." He sighs.

I nod, biting my lower lip, debating. There is always so much left unsaid between us. "I remember watching you dance with Jessamine at the Midsummer Eve's ball, the summer before you got married," I begin. He becomes so still, I am unsure if he is even breathing. "Does it hurt when people mention her?"

"Sometimes. It's equally difficult when no one mentions her," he replies.

"I am always here to listen, Hunter." I tell him.

He gazes down at his shoes. "We were so young, she and I. We met at the very first ball I ever attended. I have never been to one without her."

Tears sting my eyes and my chest tightens with a painful ache as he admits this. "You expect to feel a void."

He lifts his gaze to meet mine. "I don't know what I will feel."

Nodding, I swallow hard. "I haven't experienced the same level of loss as you have. I can't fathom the depth of your pain. But I have endured loss, and I've discovered that it's easier to carry on when I focus on what I have to be grateful for."

He turns to face me fully. "What loss, Faye?"

I shake my head. "I ould rather not discuss it."

"Does it have to do with the man you loved? The one who married someone else?" He asks.

A quick bubble of laughter escapes me as I lie, for it is simpler than revealing the truth. I regret stepping onto this path and wish to leave it as swiftly as possible. "Yes, silly really. To compare the two. Goodnight, Hunter. May you sleep well."

I am aware of his gaze following me as I enter the residence. I am grateful that he doesn't pursue the conversation, although a part of me wishes he had called me back, wrapped his arms around me, and insisted that I tell him everything.