Wanted by My Fiance's Uncle

Chapter 2: Shattered Dreams

Maria’s POV 

"What do you mean, Alan’s going to be my future husband?" I asked, even though his words had been crystal clear.

He sighed. "I’ve spoken with the pack elders, and they all support the decision. An alliance through marriage with the Golden Moonlight Pack will be invaluable to our pack."

I took a step back as he moved closer, his tone softening. "Don’t you see, Maria? This is beyond you. This isn’t about what you want but about the pack and what’s best for it."

“Mother would never want me to marry someone I didn’t love. She would want me to chase my dreams and be free,” I said.

The mention of my mother seemed to stun him for a moment, as if he was picturing her presence right there in the hallway, but almost immediately, his stern look returned. “Your mother is gone, and you will do as I say. You cannot keep living like you’re in some fantasy world, this is real life, and sometimes we must make hard choices.”

I stared at my father, almost like he was a stranger. "No, Father," I said, shaking my head. "I can’t. I can’t marry Alan. I barely even know him, and even though we grew up together, he’s still a jerk." My voice dropped low, and I looked my father straight in his eyes. "And I would rather die than marry someone like him."

“You insolent little girl!” My father yelled, “Do not forget your place, you are my daughter, and I am Alpha! And you will marry whomever I say you will marry. Have I made myself clear!?”

I stared at him, a little frightened by his tone of voice, and I took a step back. My father saw this, and his voice softened. He sighed and reached out a hand to me, but I pulled away. “I’m sorry, Maria, but you must understand I’m trying to do what’s best for you and our pack. You know I care about you.”

“Well, if you really cared, you’d let me pursue my dreams!” I yelled back.

His face tightened as he rubbed his fingers across his balding head. "You need to stop reading that… that poison," he muttered. "It’s affecting the way you think. I shouldn’t have let your mother fill your head with all these ideas. Why can’t you focus on things that are productive? Why must you fight me on this?"

"Because it’s my life!" I shouted, my fists clenched.

"Our pack is your life!" he snapped, straightening his shoulders and narrowing his eyes at me. "My decision has been made. You will marry Alan of the Golden Moonlight. And you will do so willingly, bringing no shame to me, this pack, or your future husband."

I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and bolted down the hallway, the weight of his words chasing me like a storm cloud. When I reached my loft, I slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the floor.

I grabbed the nearest book and opened it, though the words blurred behind tears. The freedom I read about in these stories felt impossibly far away. I had always dreamed of becoming a novelist, capturing the world’s beauty and chaos with my pen. But in our pack’s suffocating traditions, she-wolves were expected to stay home, care for their husbands, and raise the next generation of werewolves. My dreams were just that…dreams.

The next day, a knock on my door interrupted my thoughts. I opened it to find a maid standing there, wringing her hands.

"Well?" I asked impatiently.

"Lady Maria," she stammered, "you’ve been invited to town for dinner."

"By whom?"

She gulped, her eyes darting nervously. "By Prince Alan of the Golden Moonlight."

My brows creased in anger at the mention of his name, and I immediately slammed the door shut in the maid’s face. Inviting me to dinner, I’d sooner dine with pigs. When my rage subsided a bit, I opened the door again. The maid still stood there looking even more skittish.

"Tell Alan that I will not be joining him for dinner, and that he can crawl off into a hole and die," I said, even though I knew she’d probably leave the last part out.

She nodded quickly, her cheeks flushing as she turned and darted away.

A few minutes had passed before another knock came at my door. I closed the book I was reading with a sigh.

“What is it now?” I snapped, walking to the door and yanking it open. The maid stood there again, her hands wringing nervously as she avoided my gaze.

"Lady Maria," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "Prince Alan insists that you join him. He… he said you will do well to honor his invitation."

The words lit a fuse in me. “Insists?” I repeated.

She nodded quickly, her cheeks flushing.

“Well, you can march right back to him,” I said, my tone rising, “and tell him that he can insist all he wants. It’s not going to make a damn difference!”

The maid stumbled out of my doorway to deliver my message. Hopefully, this time, Alan would get the hint and leave me alone.

I was finally alone again. If Alan thought I would make this even a tad easier for him, then he definitely would have another thing coming.

I wandered back to my bed and began reading a book I had brought down from the loft. This particular one was a story about a horse that dreamed of running like the wind. I felt at home reading, but my peace was short-lived. Another knock came just as I was getting to the good part. I sighed, assuming it was the maid with another message from Alan.

"I thought I told you to tell—" I stopped mid-sentence when I opened the door to see my father’s scowl.

His voice was low and sharp. "What is this I hear that you turned down an invitation to have dinner with Alan. Is this true?”

“Yes, it is,” I said without averting my gaze “And that’s how it’s going to be...”

“It is disrespectful and unruly to reject an invitation from your husband-to-be, " my father said, and I could feel his patience wearing thin.

"Well, maybe he should get the hint and stop sending invitations," I quipped.

"Enough!" My father’s roar was like thunder. "You will get dressed and meet Alan for dinner. You will talk to him, and you will act happy. Or so help me, I’ll tie you to a pole and have you carried there. Do I make myself clear?"

I glared at him, my jaw tight, but I didn’t answer. He didn’t wait for a response. He slammed the door shut and stormed off, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.

I sighed heavily as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My father wasn’t one to mince words. Tie me to a pole and carry me to dinner? I couldn’t stay here. If I did, he would find a way to make good on his threat.

I pulled on a simple dress, brushing through my hair as quickly as I could. The thought of dining with Alan, of pretending to be happy for my father’s sake, made my stomach turn. But I wasn’t going to meet him at the restaurant.

Instead, I walked past the agreed location and headed straight for the movie theater in town. It was a small, cozy place that played human-made films. Tonight’s feature was about a strong, fearless woman who defied the world’s expectations. I slipped into the darkened room just as the movie started, letting the sounds and sights of her story pull me away from my own.

She was everything I wished I could be, bold, courageous, unyielding. In one moving scene, she stood up to her oppressive husband, shouting her defiance, and then walked away to chase her dreams. The crowd in the movie clapped, and I felt tears sting my eyes. If she could stand against her fate, why couldn’t I?

The next morning, I awoke to sunlight spilling into my room. I was still in my pajamas, my hair a mess, and my face untouched by the day’s routine. I stretched lazily, thinking I might finally enjoy a quiet morning.

That peace shattered when I heard the maid’s timid voice outside my door. “Morning, Lady Maria. You have a visitor.”

I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head. A visitor? At this hour? “Who is it?” I mumbled, my voice muffled by the fabric.

There was a slight pause before she answered, “It’s Prince Alan, my lady.”

My heart sank, irritation flaring in my chest. Alan? What was he doing here? Not that it mattered. I wasn’t going to see him.

“Tell Alan that I don’t want to see him,” I said flatly.

I was settling back into bed, relieved to have avoided the ordeal, when my door flew open with a loud crash. My head snapped up, and there he was, Alan, standing in my doorway like he owned the place.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Alan, and how dare you barge into my room like that?” I snapped, clutching my sheets to my chest. “I’m in my nightclothes, for crying out loud!”

“Nice to see you too,” Alan said with a smirk. He walked toward my bed, and I shifted away as he approached.

“Don’t act like this is wrong, Maria, Isn’t a husband allowed to see his wife whenever he deems fit?”

His words left me momentarily speechless. The hubris of this man was astonishing. I had to get him to leave somehow. “What exactly do you want, Alan?” I asked.

He stopped just at the edge of my bed, regarding me with a sinister look. “So wonderful of you to ask. Now, what I would like to know is why you didn’t show up when I invited you to dinner the other day? Do you have any idea how long I waited at the restaurant?”

Ah, so that was why he was here. I crossed my arms over my chest, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought I told my maid to tell you to crawl into a hole and die.”

The words had barely left my lips when he grabbed me by the wrist and pushed me back against the bed. His strength was overwhelming, his grip firm enough to make me wince.

“You dare speak to me in such a manner?” he growled, his voice loud and menacing. I was scared he was going to do something rash.

But as fear coursed through me, so did anger. Who did he think he was to treat me like this? Like I was some object he could control?