The Alpha’s Curvy Mate Was Never Meant to Be His Bride

NAYELI VOSS My phone vibrated so hard it nearly slid off the table. I picked it up and saw an unknown international number. Normally, I would ignore it, but I tapped the green icon anyway and brought the phone to my ear. "Nayeli Voss?" a sharp, formal voice asked without waiting for a greeting. "Speaking," I said, leaning back in my office chair. "How can I help you?" "My name is Marcus, representing the Cael estate," the man said, his tone dry and completely devoid of warmth. "We require a full event management team for a private, highly high-profile mating ceremony, a wedding, by human standards. The budget is five hundred thousand dollars, but there are strict conditions." I almost choked on my own spit, but I forced my expression to stay completely neutral. Five hundred thousand dollars was enough to expand our company, upgrade our self-defense studio, and clear out our remaining debts in one single move. "Five hundred thousand?" I repeated, keeping my voice calm. "What kind of conditions are we talking about?" "A total non-disclosure agreement, a full month-long buyout of your company, and immediate relocation to the Cael territory for the duration of the planning," Marcus replied smoothly. "A private plane is waiting at the local airfield. If you agree, the contract and half the payment will be wired to your account within ten minutes." I looked across the glass table at my cousins, Talia and Marisol, who were both watching me with wide, curious eyes. My best friend Bianca was leaning on the doorway, her arms folded over her chest. "Give me two minutes," I told the man on the phone, setting it face down on the desk. "Was that a client?" Marisol asked, her eyes lighting up with instant excitement. "Please tell me it's someone famous." "Some guy named Marcus representing the Cael family," I said, crossing my arms over my dark green top. "He wants to buy out our entire schedule for a month and pay us half a million dollars to plan a high-profile wedding. But we have to fly out today." Talia frowned, her sharp eyes narrowing as she pulled up her laptop. "Cael territory? I've heard of the regional name, but it's mostly private land and dense forest. Why the absolute secrecy? And why fly in a human team on such short notice?" "Half a million dollars fixes our overhead for the next two years, Talia," Bianca pointed out from the doorway, though her expression remained wary. "It sounds slightly sketchy, but as long as we keep our guards up and travel together, we can handle a bunch of rich, arrogant snobs." "I don't care how rich they are," I said, standing up and grabbing my keys. "They're paying for our expertise, not our submission to anything. If any of them try to talk down to us, they'll find out very quickly that I don't shrink for anyone." Marisol grinned, clapping her hands together. "So we're going? On a private jet?" "Pack your bags," I said, a slight smirk playing on my lips. "We have a massive wedding to organize." ~ Three hours later, the private jet touched down on a secluded tarmac surrounded by towering pine trees and dark, jagged mountains. The air outside was noticeably colder, carrying a strange stillness that immediately put my teeth on edge. A line of black SUVs was parked near the hangar, with men in identical black suits standing beside them like statues. "Okay, this feels less like a wedding and more like a high-level government operation," Talia muttered under her breath as we walked down the jet's steps, carrying our bags. "They're just rich people playing dress-up," I said, pulling my jacket tighter around my shoulders. "Don't let them intimidate you." A tall man with cold grey eyes stepped forward and opened the door to the lead SUV. He didn't smile, and he didn't offer to take our luggage. "Miss Voss. Follow me to the main estate. The Alpha, Mr. Cael is expecting you." We loaded our gear into the back and climbed into the luxurious seats. The drive took us deep into the thick, shadowed forest along a private road. There were no streetlights, no street signs, and no signs of normal human life. After twenty minutes, the tree line opened up to reveal a massive, fortress-like estate made of dark stone and reinforced glass. It was grand, imposing, and completely void of any welcoming warmth. "Welcome to the Cael Pack House," the driver said as he brought the vehicle to a smooth stop in front of the grand entrance. "Pack house?" Marisol whispered, glancing at me. "Is that just a fancy regional term for an estate?" "Must be," I said, though a strange, prickling sensation began to form at the back of my neck. We stepped out of the vehicle and walked up the wide stairs. The doors swung open before we even reached them and standing in the center was a man who looked tall and overwhelming. He was at least six-foot-two, with broad, powerful shoulders, dark hair cut neat and tight, and eyes so dark and icy they barely looked human. He wore a tailored black suit that did nothing to hide the power rolling off him. The moment his eyes locked to mine, the air in the room seemed to vanish completely. The tall man froze in place, his jaw tightening so hard I heard a faint click. His dark eyes dilated, flashing a strange, golden hue for a split second before he forced his posture to remain rigid. A low, barely audible sound rumbled deep in his chest, a sound that sounded terrifyingly like a wild animal trying to restrain itself. I stopped right in my tracks, my instincts flaring up instantly. I gripped my bag strap tighter, staring straight into his cold, shocked face without backing down. "You must be Mr. Cael," I said, keeping my voice firm, loud, and completely calm. "I'm Nayeli Voss, the lead planner." He stared down at me, his gaze dragging slowly from my eyes down to my full curves, then right back up to my face. His nostrils flared as if he were taking in a deep breath of air, and his hand tightened until his knuckles turned bone-white. "You're human," he said. His voice was a deep, rough tone that vibrated straight through the floors. "Last time I checked," I replied, tilting my head up slightly and offering a cold smile. "Is there a problem with that?" Before he could answer, the soft click of heels echoed down the grand staircase behind him. A stunning woman with blonde hair, porcelain skin, and a designer dress glided in, looking at us like we were dirt trailing on her expensive rug. "Rhydian, darling," she said, her voice dropping into a sweet, practiced purr as she reached his side and wrapped her delicate hand around his arm. "Are these the hired servants for our ceremony?" Rhydian didn't look at her. His icy eyes remained glued to mine, dark with a dangerous, chaotic storm he was clearly trying to hide. "They are the planners, Evelina," Rhydian said, his voice cold and clipped. Then, he stepped forward, closing the distance between us until his towering frame cast a shadow right over me. "And they will be staying in the main house, under my direct supervision." I held his gaze, refusing to step back or break eye contact. "We don't need a babysitter, Mr. Cael. Just give us the schedule and let us do our job." Rhydian leaned down slightly, his deep voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper that sent a sudden spike of heat down my spine. "You don't understand where you are, Miss Voss. In this house, my word is absolute. And you are not leaving my sight.”