Chapter Three
1143 Words
The banging of Alpha Leo in my room woke me up from my afternoon nap. With my heart racing, I sat up on the bed and held my pillow to my chest. During more than three years of marriage, he had never, so far as I can remember, set his foot in my quarters, much less my room. But here he was now—his face twisted in rage—and I knew that some amazing thing was going on.
A-Alpha Leo, G-good afternoon, bowed his head, without being able to look at me, desperately trying to understand what I had done to make him angry.
What are you up to in the bed, you wench? Leo snarled, and his voice dripped with venom. You forget we have a party to go to!
I blinked in confusion. "What party?" I could hardly raise my voice above a whisper in fear that talking too loud would start him off even more.
"What do you mean, 'What party?!'" He banged his fist on the wall, and I flinched. Why did the goddess match me with such dumb people? You are not only ugly, but you are also completely useless!
The three-hour ride to Mysticrock Pack was choking. I darted to and fro in my mind and tried to recall whether plans had been made, whether there was any mention of a party. Nothing.
I barely got myself together when Leo grabbed me by the arm and lifted me off the bed, and his grip was so strong that I stumbled. It was as iron as iron, and when I next touched his hand, I could feel the stinging pain of his palm against my face. I swung my head fiercely to the side as the slap banged through the room and reverberated at the walls.
Then a throbbing pain shot through my cheek, and it was hot and almost unbearable at once. The tears followed with hot and wet streams of water running down my body, blending with the agonizing pain that now throbbed at the spot where his hand had struck me. The salt of the tears scalded the tender flesh, and the pain was still even more sharp, as though the humiliation itself was hacking into me.
My heart and lungs were constricting, and I had to pull myself to look up at the man who was meant to be my mate, my protector, my Alpha. I tried to find something—anything—in his face that would give me a clue of remorse, a wisp of guilty feeling, or the remotest indication that he had not intended it.
But there was nothing. His eyes were fiery with rage and hard and cruel, as though smiting me had done him no service but scratched an itch. His mouth was set hard, his countenance hewn out of naked scorn.
"Tonight is the alliance night with the new Lycan King!" he barked.
"No one told me," I whispered.
What do you mean nobody told you? His voice thundered. Beatrix answered that she told you! Now you want to play like she did, huh?
There I opened my mouth but had no words. There was no point. Leo would never take my word against hers. Beatrix wrapped him around her small finger. This was hers all right—she wanted me to hurt, and she had.
The last few days I had heard whispers of pack members talking about the new Lycan King and how he was holding an alliance ceremony. There were treaties between werewolves and Lycans with the previous king, but the new king rejected them as pointless. He would opt to only form an alliance with one werewolf pack and give them the mandate to control all the others and report to him.
The talk was scandalous—that Rowan, the new Lycan King, had overthrown the former king in one combat alone. History had never witnessed such a feat. In contrast to werewolves, the leaders of whom were born to the throne by the virtue of their blood, the Lycans were also able to secure their right to the throne solely through military power, by killing the king.
"You have an hour to get ready!" Leo flashed out and threw the door behind him.
When there was no more talk, Lisa came out of the corner. "What now, Olivia?"
"We get ready. And pray we do not aggravate him still more, I said to myself, pushing myself up out of the bed.
I took a quick shower and dressed up in a gorgeous red dress, which an omega had prepared. It fit my shape and showed fairly good cleavage. My hair was also arranged in an updo fashion, which had no strands sticking out. I did not dare to stare in the glass too long—Leo would always find me ugly, no matter what I did.
As I came out of the door, Leo looked down his nose at me. "What are you wearing?"
"W-what do you mean?" I asked—shaking at the heart.
Why not put on the black gown I sent you over? His annoyance was acidic.
I froze. Of course. That gown had not been his—it had been brought over by one of the minions of Beatrix. She had set me up again.
"I'll change—"
"No need. You know we are late," Leo grumbled and headed towards the car. You can't dress up at all, and you should make a good first impression.
I gulp back my sigh and walk after him.
The three-hour ride to Mysticrock Pack was suffocating. Leo did not give me the slightest heed and giggled like a schoolboy over every word Beatrix wrote. I had nothing but Lisa to comfort me, and she mumbled little nonsense to keep my mind off the pain in my chest.
Once we got there, we saw the massive gates standing there in front of us with the guards of Lycans sweeping the air with their presence alone. The Lycan Packhouse was the only one with a fortress, and the surrounding homes were designed to protect the werewolves.
The reason is that the purpose of the Lycan King is to protect his people, said Lisa to herself.
"That is reasonable," I said to myself and looked at the intimidating building.
The automobile came to a halt outside the gates.
Name yourselves, boys," one of the guards bellowed, and his massive figure exuded naked power. It was the very sound of his voice that made me skip.
I'm Alpha Leo of the Silver Mere Pack... Leo stuttered. He was taken aback by the tone and rattled of nerve. I have never seen him foam at the mouth.
And it was no wonder. An ordinary Lycan was nothing compared to even an Alpha werewolf.
- Writer
