Betrothed To The Ruthless Alpha

Chapter Four: Morning Rules

I woke up before the sun did.

Old habit. Back home, mornings started early whether you wanted them to or not — chores, training, helping my mother with whatever needed doing before the rest of the pack was even awake. I lay there for a minute, staring at a ceiling that wasn't mine, in a bed that wasn't mine, and let myself forget for exactly three seconds where I was.

Then I remembered, and the three seconds were over.

Raulph's side of the bed was empty. I hadn't even heard him leave. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or annoyed about that. Maybe both.

I got up, found a plain dress in the closet that didn't look like it belonged to a wedding or a funeral, and made my way out into the hallway, hoping I could find the kitchen without asking anyone for directions. I didn't get far.

"You're up early." Scott was leaning against the wall outside my door like he'd been waiting there. Maybe he had.

"Old habits."

"I like that about you already." He fell into step beside me, easy as anything, hands in his pockets. "Most people who marry into this house sleep until noon out of spite. Figure if they're stuck here, they might as well make Dregor pay for the mattresses."

"I'm not most people."

"No," he said, and something in his voice went a little more serious for a second. "You're really not."

I glanced at him sideways. "Is this the part where you flirt with me again?"

"Depends. Is it working?"

"No."

"Damn." He grinned like I'd told a joke instead of the truth. "Worth a shot."

We reached the kitchen — bigger than any kitchen had a right to be, full of staff who all went quiet and straightened up the second they saw me, like they weren't sure yet whether I was someone to be nice to or someone to be careful around. I understood the feeling. I wasn't sure either.

Scott grabbed two rolls off a tray without asking, tossed one to me, and leaned against the counter like he owned the place, which I supposed, in a way, he did.

"Can I ask you something?" I said.

"Always."

"Why are you being nice to me? Really. Not the flirting stuff. The actual answer."

He considered that for a second, chewing, looking more thoughtful than I'd seen him look yet. "Because everyone else in this house is going to make your life difficult," he said. "Parker because he doesn't trust anything he didn't choose himself. Phiona because she's spent two years clawing her way into looking important, and you walked in and made her look small without even trying. My father because he needs this marriage to work and he's not always great at remembering there's a person attached to the politics." He shrugged. "Figured somebody should be easy to be around. Might as well be me."

"That's surprisingly honest."

"I have my moments." He nudged my shoulder with his. "Also, you're funny. And you made Phiona speechless at dinner, which nobody's managed in about two years. I respect that."

I found myself almost smiling, which felt strange this early, in this house, after everything. "What about Raulph?" I asked. "Where does he fall on your honesty list?"

Scott's grin faded, just slightly. "Raulph's complicated."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I've got." He finished his roll, brushed the crumbs off his hands. "Look — my brother isn't cruel for the fun of it. Whatever you think of what happened with Raphael, that's not who he is, deep down. But he learned a long time ago that being soft in this family gets you eaten alive. Parker would've torn him apart for hesitating that day in the woods. So he didn't hesitate. That doesn't make it right. It just means there's a reason, even if you don't want to hear it."

I didn't say anything to that. I wasn't ready to hear it, not really, and some stubborn part of me didn't want an explanation that made Raulph easier to understand. Understanding him felt like a betrayal of Raphael, even if that didn't make sense.

"Anyway." Scott straightened up, the easy grin sliding back into place like a mask he was more comfortable wearing. "You've got training this afternoon. Did anyone tell you that?"

"Training for what?"

"Silver Moon wives learn to fight. Not because we expect you to go to war, but because Dregor doesn't like weak links standing next to his sons in public. Raulph's supposed to be there, but knowing him, he'll send someone else and disappear into whatever brooding hole he keeps himself in most days."

"Sounds about right."

"Don't take it personally. He does that to everyone." Scott headed for the door, then paused, looking back at me with something almost gentle under the usual charm. "For what it's worth — I meant what I said last night. Don't let this place turn you cold. You've got more fire in you than anyone who's walked through those doors in a long time. Be a shame to watch this house put it out."

Then he was gone, whistling something under his breath, leaving me alone in a kitchen full of staff who still hadn't decided what to make of me.

I sat with that for a while — his warning, his honesty about Raulph, the strange comfort of being the first interesting thing to happen in this house in years, according to two different brothers now. I didn't know what to do with any of it yet.

I finished my roll, and when one of the kitchen staff finally worked up the courage to ask if I needed anything, I asked her where I could find the training grounds instead. If Silver Moon wanted me sharp, I intended to make sure I was sharper than they expected.

Whatever this house had planned for me, I wasn't going in unarmed.