The Wolfless Omega: The Alpha's Runaway Bride

Chapter Four

Raine's Perspective

Marta, dressed in an old-fashioned maid's dress, had somehow appeared behind me. Her gaze swept over the slip in my hand, then fixed on my face.

Her tone was slow, and those ugly eyes narrowed, full of shrewdness.

I desperately forced myself to stay calm. My mind raced, and I put on an expression of someone who had been misunderstood.

“Marta, what are you talking about? I've always been this diligent at work—don't you know?” I sighed. “I just want to do a good job. The ceremony preparation has too many things, and I ask a few more questions to avoid mistakes. After all, if anything goes wrong, it would embarrass our pack.”

Her beady eyes rolled over my face several times but didn't pursue it further.

She tossed out “Mind your own business, do your own job well, and don't make mistakes” before turning and leaving.

I pouted at her back, cursing inwardly: sour old hag.

But what happened today also made me more cautious. Too many people in the pack disliked me, so I needed to be even more careful in the coming days.

That night, Ronan rarely let me stay by his side.

When I arrived at his room, he had just finished bathing, wearing only a black satin robe that revealed his fair, full chest.

Everywhere he walked was filled with the scent and moisture of his bath. His flaxen hair was still dripping, and his refined, sculpted face looked somewhat fragile.

He sat on the sofa with a listless expression. I approached with a towel and carefully dried his hair.

I had noticed his face had looked bad since he came in, and my movements were more careful than usual, afraid of provoking him.

It was said to be about the ceremony preparations. The Crestmoon Pack held high prestige and was an arrogant group, constantly sending word every few days—rules and clauses, all demands.

“Raine, pour me a glass of wine.” His tone with me was softer than usual.

“Yes.” I moved to pour him a glass of red wine.

As soon as he took the glass, he tipped his head back and drained it.

His hair was already dry, and I stood there watching him down glass after glass.

The room fell silent for a long while.

I spoke helplessly: “Alpha, you've had a lot to drink tonight. There's still much to do tomorrow. You should rest early.”

“Hm?” He tilted his head to look at me, his forest-green eyes seeming misted. “…Don't rush me. I'm really too tired.”

“Sorry, Alpha, I didn't mean it that way,” I replied.

He did seem somewhat drunk, sinking entirely into the sofa, his eyes dazed, his voice soft at the edges when he spoke to me.

I went to the cabinet and fetched him a blanket, gently draping it over him.

Just as I was about to pull my hand back, he caught my wrist.

He held my hand and pressed his cheek against it. “Raine, stay and talk with me. I just want someone to talk to.”

I sighed, letting him be, and crossed my legs, kneeling properly at his feet.

“I'm listening,” I said, looking up at him.

He released me, placed his hands obediently on his abdomen, and rested his head against the sofa.

“Sometimes I feel I'm not an Alpha, but a machine. Born to fulfill the pack's mission.” He stared at the ceiling blankly, as if talking to himself.

“My parents died in a border war. I was only fourteen then, thrown into the storm, forced to become the pack's Alpha. From then on, I had to lead our people, look ahead and behind, and wait for a political marriage.”

“With supreme glory came loss. I lost my parents, my freedom, my likes and dislikes.”

“In my third year as Alpha, I had to lead the gammas to guard the border. In that war, we were ambushed by the enemy. The soldiers around me were nearly wiped out. Every bone in my body felt broken, my blood seemed to drain away. I thought I would die there, but strangely, I felt a sense of relief.”

“Later, the pack's reinforcements rescued me. After the victory, I was surrounded and admired again.”

“Raine… can you understand me? After all these years, I'm a little lonely. I think… I can confide in you.” His voice reached my ears in fragments.

I understood, yet I didn't want to understand.

Ronan was even three years younger than me.

I often sensed a scent of sadness emanating from Ronan.

I gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window at the endless night—no moon, no stars, only a despairing blackness.

My parents, my freedom, my likes—hadn't I lost the same?

And those trafficked like me—hadn't they too?

Their fates had been far more tragic.

I was lost in thought for a long time and forgot to reply.

The hall sank into a strange silence.

When I turned back, Ronan had already fallen asleep against the back of the sofa. He rarely showed such vulnerability in front of others. What people usually saw was a young but powerful Alpha.

I stared at his sleeping face for a long time. So peaceful and serene, utterly unguarded. He possessed the strong, beautiful body of a young man, soft hair messily covering his lashes, a straight nose, and lips both red and soft.

I was entranced again.

All the ways he had treated me over these five years—the inexplicable indulgence, the moments when he dropped his guard late at night—all surged up at once.

Even a mad thought emerged in my mind.

If there were no Sable, no upcoming marriage, no endless scheming, would I have continued like this with Ronan?

But the moment that thought appeared, it was extinguished like a basin of cold water.

No. Absolutely not.

This wasn't where I belonged. I needed to go home!

In seven days, I could use the chaos of the ceremony to leave this place. That was the only thing that mattered.

I silently repeated to myself: seven days from now, life or death—this one gamble.