Alpha’s Lone Mate

Chapter 3

The day was adorned with a brilliant sun, a sky painted in bright blue, and clouds that sported a friendly and fluffy appearance. It was the sort of day when my father would indulge us with ice cream from the local shop. We'd relish our sweet treats while sharing jokes. My father, who owned a mechanic shop, often had his hands full, yet he always found a way to make time for us.

Upon his return home, covered in grease from a day's work, my brother and I would rush to embrace him. We adored our father; he was simply the best.

Our cherished moments were usually reserved for weekends, particularly Sundays when the shop remained closed. Sadly, in recent times, those moments had become a rarity. My mother, who once joined us on these occasions, had now become scarce.

Recollections of our past Sunday traditions stirred something within me, coaxing me to venture out for a walk, which I did.

With the house and the shop now under my brother's purview, he worked diligently to cover the bills, while I took up the mantle of household chores, including cooking, cleaning, and minor repairs. It was a busy routine, but one I didn't mind. I considered it a fair trade, given the circumstances.

However, my brother's treatment of me had shifted. He often acted as though I were invisible. On the rare occasion I tried to engage with him, he would ignore me or pretend I didn't exist, only breaking his silence to issue orders, like requesting a freshly ironed shirt.

I had come to a realization: Crescent Pack, our home, held no significant future for me. My resolution was firm; upon graduation, I would be off to college, yearning for a change, a chance to break free from these confines. I yearned for a place where I could be true to myself, away from the constraints that had confined me here. It was as if I had been categorized into a box that was not my own, no matter how hard I tried to escape it, I remained trapped. The taunts and labels they pinned on me—weak, loser, unwanted, snake, rat, and lame—had begun to penetrate my psyche.

As I neared a park bench, my heart stirred, acting strangely, as it often did in his presence, something I had noticed since we were children. It wasn't that I had a crush on him; it was just something about his aura, an aura that exuded power and made me feel small.

In his contemplation, he sensed my arrival and looked up, causing me to halt in my tracks. I froze and stared down at him.

"Am I in your usual spot?" he inquired, breaking the silence.

His voice, deeper than I recalled, always managed to catch me off guard—soft, yet resonant, a comforting timbre.

Clearing his throat, he reminded me he was waiting for an answer. My awkwardness was evident, and I felt guilty that he had to witness it.

"Um, yes," I finally managed to say.

I cringed at my awkwardness, wishing I could have given a more composed response.

"No problem," he replied, rising from the bench. However, before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "No, it's okay. The bench is big enough for both of us."

Together, we settled into an undisturbed silence, reveling in the tranquility of our surroundings. I had known Melvin, the future Alpha of Crescent Pack, for many years. He was my brother's closest friend, though I hadn't seen much of him lately.

"Are you excited about becoming Alpha soon?" I asked, unsure why I had initiated a conversation I didn't particularly want to be part of.

He was one of the few individuals who hadn't treated me differently after my father's disappearance and my brother's increasingly hostile behavior. Not that he had ever been friendly with me, but he had always seemed indifferent, as if my presence didn't matter to him.

Hence, I was taken aback when he suddenly asked, "Are you coming to my party?"

My mouth dropped open for a moment. I hesitated before stammering, "I-I..."

It was Saturday, the day he would officially become the Alpha, and the same day my brother would assume the role of Beta. I knew about the party but was certain my brother didn't want me there.

He arched an eyebrow, puzzled by my reaction. "I didn't know you were having a party," I lied, wanting to avoid answering his question.

A conflicted expression passed over his face. "My father is officially giving me the title this Saturday. I turned 21 last month."

Saturday was also my birthday, and for a moment, I contemplated telling him. However, I stopped myself, convinced he wouldn't care.

"Congratulations," I said instead, trying to offer my best wishes.

"You don't seem very thrilled," I pointed out.

He inhaled deeply and locked his intense gaze on me. After a pause, he shifted his eyes away, bit his lower lip, and shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he murmured, rising from the bench.

"Will I see you at the party?" he asked, forming the question with a sense of uncertainty.

I blinked at him. "Actually, I don't think I'll be attending."

Confusion and curiosity knitted his brows, and he looked at me with a questioning expression. "Parties aren't my thing," I said, partially revealing the truth.

While I didn't mind people, it often felt like they didn't like me, at least not in this pack.

He made a reasonable suggestion: "You could still come to help out. You don't have to participate in the party. You do enjoy assisting with preparations, and this way, you can support your brother."

I anticipated that my brother wouldn't refuse such an offer.

I mustered a grateful smile, but he didn't return it. He merely nodded and walked away. Nevertheless, I couldn't help but wear a pleased expression.

Had I just received an invitation to one of the most significant parties in the pack?

The urge to leap with joy was intense, but I suppressed it. I couldn't afford to provide others with yet another reason to taunt me.

After several futile attempts at concentrating on my homework, I gave up and descended the stairs. I wasn't entirely certain of my intentions—perhaps I had expected to confront them and demand they cease their mockery. However, as soon as my foot touched the wooden floor, all conversation halted, and every head in the room swiveled in my direction.

I was frozen in place, feet seemingly glued to the ground, and my heart raced.

Discomfort engulfed me as the room's occupants observed me. In total, there were eight people present, including Melvin, my brother's closest friend.

The future Alpha, as if breaking the ice, spoke first. "Good thing you're here."

"Excuse me, sir... Alpha?" I stammered.

"I've brought you something for Saturday," he stated, extending a package toward me.

Initially, I was bewildered, as were others in the room. However, it quickly dawned on me that he was referring to the dress he had mentioned earlier.

Swiftly, I stepped up to him, ignoring my brother's piercing glare, and accepted the package . My gratitude was expressed, albeit meekly.

The room filled with comments and questions, some out of surprise but without overt malice.

One girl, however, couldn't contain her curiosity: "She's attending the party?"

"I thought you could do better," a male remarked, followed by chuckles, though another promptly slapped him for his insensitivity.

I felt exceedingly uncomfortable and sensed a need to explain.

"What is wrong with you?" another girl chimed in.

"Why do you need her?" a boy added.

I realized that I didn't know all their names, though they occasionally visited our home.

My brother's voice cut through the room, demanding, "Will you all just shut up?"

Silence descended, and all eyes were now either on my brother, Melvin, or me. I focused on my feet, avoiding the inquisitive gazes.

I felt compelled to offer some clarification, sensing a misunderstanding.

"I'll be helping out," I said timidly, wishing to explain.

"Of course, that's the reason. Why else would anyone invite you?" one of the girls remarked, her tone not particularly harsh.

"Shut up, Kenner. No one asked for your opinion," Melvin said in a bored manner, rolling his eyes.

Despite myself, I almost smiled, but I refrained, knowing it wouldn't help the situation. I locked eyes with Kenner, who, embarrassed, had turned as red as a tomato. For a moment, I felt a twinge of pity, but that feeling quickly dissipated as she shot me a malevolent look that promised trouble later.

Confounded, I wondered, what had I done to deserve such hostility?

"I'm going back to my homework. Thanks again," I mumbled, feeling small in their presence.

I spun around and hurried upstairs, disregarding the occasional snide comments from the girls.