Chapter 2: The Grey-Eyed Alpha
842 Words
POV: Ronan
The Thornfield gates looked worse up close than they had in any report.
Rust ate through the iron bars. Weeds grew thick along the wall where guards should have kept a clean perimeter. My driver slowed the car to a stop, and I stepped out into air that smelled like rot and fear. Even the ground here felt wrong under my boots, like the whole territory was holding its breath.
I had come a day early on purpose. A leader who cannot handle a surprise visit is not a leader worth trusting with a trade deal. I wanted to see Thornfield the way it really was, not the polished version Garrick would try to show me tomorrow.
What I saw only confirmed what I already suspected. Weak leadership. A pack rotting from the inside out.
Guards scrambled toward the gate, shouting for their Alpha. I ignored them and walked straight for the main hall, my second, Bricklen, falling into step behind me. My wolf paced restlessly under my skin, on edge the way he always was in unfamiliar, poorly run territory.
I had not trusted anyone fully since my last mate showed her true colors five years ago. She had smiled in my face for two years while selling pack secrets to my enemies. I found out the same week I was supposed to mark her. Since then, I kept my guard up everywhere I went, and my heart locked away where nothing could reach it. Business was simple. People were not.
Garrick came rushing out to meet me, straightening his jacket, sweat already beading on his forehead. "Alpha Ronan. We, ah, we were not expecting you until tomorrow."
"I know," I said. I did not explain further. Let him sit with the discomfort.
"Of course, of course. Please, come in. We can begin discussing terms tonight if you'd like, get a head start." He gestured toward the doors, forcing a smile that did not reach his eyes.
I studied him as we walked. Thin frame. Sharp, nervous eyes that would not hold my gaze for more than a second. His heartbeat was already too fast for a simple greeting. Something about him set my instincts on edge before we had even discussed a single trade term.
We stepped into the main hall, and the smell hit me first.
Rain and pine, fresh and impossibly clean against the decay around it. It cut through every other scent in the building like a blade through fog.
My wolf slammed against my ribs so hard I nearly stumbled.
I had never felt anything like it. Every instinct in my body screamed toward that scent, pulling me forward before my mind had caught up with what was happening. Beside me, Bricklen shot me a startled look, clearly sensing my sudden tension but not understanding the cause.
I forced my expression flat and scanned the hall.
There, in the far corner, knelt a girl.
She was scrubbing the floor with hands that looked raw and cracked, a heavy grey collar locked around her thin neck. Her clothes hung off a frame that was far too thin, and even from here I could see the faded edges of bruises along her wrist. Dark curls fell forward, hiding most of her face, but I caught a glimpse of hazel eyes flicking up toward me for just a second before dropping back to the floor.
The scent was coming from her.
My whole body went still.
In twenty-eight years, I had never once scented a fated mate. I had stopped believing it was even real for me, after everything with my last mate. But there was no mistaking what I felt right now, standing frozen in a rotting hall while my wolf howled inside my chest, desperate to cross the room and pull that trembling girl into my arms.
"Alpha Ronan?" Garrick's voice broke through the haze. "Is something wrong?"
I forced my eyes away from her, forced my breathing steady. "No," I said, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. "Let's discuss the treaty."
But even as I said it, I could not stop myself from glancing back toward the corner one more time.
She was still watching me now, frozen mid-scrub, her hazel eyes wide with something between fear and confusion. Like she could feel it too, whatever this invisible thread was that had just wrapped itself around my chest and pulled tight.
Garrick followed my gaze and scowled. "Get back to work," he snapped at her. "Now."
She flinched, dropped her eyes, and bent back over the bucket.
Something inside me went cold with fury I did not fully understand yet.
I turned toward Garrick, my voice level and controlled despite the storm building underneath it. "Who is that girl?"
Garrick's jaw tightened. "No one important, Alpha. Just pack labor. Don't waste your time on her."
I held his gaze a moment longer, watching the way his pulse jumped under his collar.
He was lying.
And I intended to find out exactly why.
- Writer
