Marry the Beast, I Want the Alpha

11

Morticia's POV

"Morticia," Father calls out and I straighten up my spine. I always had the knee-jerk reaction to be at my best whenever this man is around.

"Father." I gave a small curt bow. We didn't do hugs. We weren't that close. He only saw me as a tool. An item to bring him wealth and power and of course, sold me out to a loveless marriage. Sometimes I hated him. Most of the time.

"I hope you're living fine?" He asks and I nod.

"Of course, father I am. Jacob is nothing short of kind. He has been with me throughout the process of the marriage." I lie through my teeth because of course that's what he would like to hear, and I say what he doesn't want to hear. I'm doomed.

"That's good to hear. I hope you aren't giving your husband trouble?"

Husband... That's all he cares about. My husband, not me. "Yes, father. I am no child to disturb my husband. How are you and Mama faring?"

"We're doing just fine," She said. "Alpha Garrett is contented with you, he gifts our pack.!" I tried to chuckle but it came out hollow.

"Stay with your mother Morticia, I'll be seeing the others." He said then left me and my mother who spoke to other women her age while I just remained empty and hollow;

★

The ceremony of betrothal had also flown by, like a void in an empty theatrical piece of a celebratory procession, behind polite smiles, hollow congratulations, and meaningless phrases. Having ceremonies, they all stood around to celebrate, the sound of cheers and jest being carried all across the night. Yet, amid the crowd, I had felt utterly alone.

Jacob had lived up to his role, playing the dutiful fiancée with a practiced lightness. But the moment the formalities ended, he had vanished.

I knew where he had gone—or rather, to whom. He didn’t even bother making excuses anymore. He may have assumed that I didn't see or cared whether I did. In either case, his absence routed me as an object adrift, a specter at the margins of a party I didn't want.

I quit the party revelry and moved to the garden. The fresh night air was a welcome relief from the stale night air, and the soft light of the moonbeam fell upon the petals in an otherworldly silvery wash.

I let out a heavy sigh as I sank onto a stone bench, my gaze fixed on the roses swaying gently in the breeze. The garden has always been my sanctuary and place of retreat, a safe from the pressure and responsibility of the adult world.

Yet this evening, not even the beauty of the flowers could ease my pained heart.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

I spring at the sound of the voice and I turn around to find Jake a couple feet away with his hands tucked into the pockets of his black pants. Being present was impressive, even just observing at night, his entire upper body (long torso, sturdy shoulders, and long neck) and sharp lines well hidden in roguish gloss of the moon.

“Jake,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing out here?”

He shrugged, stepping closer. “Needed some air. Thought I’d find a bit of quiet.”

I offered him a faint smile. “You’ve come to the right place.”

He paused for just a second and then sat down beside me, keeping an appropriate distance. The ensuing paucity of words, however, was not uncomfortable, but rather oppressive with unsaid.

“I saw Jacob slip away earlier, Jake said finally, his tone carefully neutral.

My heart ached, but I tried to hide the pain. “Did you?”

Jake looked over and his piercing gaze seemed to cut to the very core of me. “You don’t have to pretend, Morticia. You know as well as I do where he’s gone.

I stuttered and caught my gaze looking down to clasped hands in my lap. “It’s not my place to question his… whereabouts.”

“Maybe not,” Jake said, his voice softening. “But it’s not fair to you either.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Fairness has nothing to do with it. This marriage was never about love. It’s about alliances, politics, and power. My feelings don’t matter. They never have.”

Jake's jaw constricted, he looked up, and his hands gripped tightly. “That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve better.”

His speech made a stricken feeling in my gut, and I turned to him, looking for something in his face, an answer, maybe, or reassurance. “What if this is all I’m meant for? An app for my dad, a hostage in a game I didn't sign up to play? I would not want to marry a person with whom there is no closeness, Jake, but there are no options.

Jake turned back to me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes—something raw and unguarded—but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“You always have a choice,” he said quietly. “Even when it feels like you don’t.”

I shook my head and a ball fell in my chest. “I can’t walk away from this. If I had, it would dishonor my family, my pack. I can’t be that selfish.”

Not being selfish, Morticia, is taking care of yourself," Jake said, quite firm and clear. “It’s survival. You have the right to happiness and to be loved and respected just as you are —and not because of what you can do for someone else.

His words were like poultice to my aching heart, and I could not hold back the tears that started forming at the edges of my eyelids. “But what if that’s not possible? What if I’m destined to live a life of duty and nothing more?

Jake paused, and his look softened as he brought his hand contact to mine. The touch was soft, almost shy, but it stimulated a sensation of thermal distribution through me.

“You’re stronger than you think, Morticia,” he said. “And you’re not alone in this. When you could use a friend to lean on, I'm here. Always.”

The authenticity of his sound brought to my eyes a rush of tears, and quickly I cast aside my eyes embarrassed by my emotional truth. “Thank you, Jake. That means more than you know.”

For a while we simply sat silent, becoming entangled in the crisp night air as a cocoon. For the first time in a long time, I felt a glimmer of hope—not for the future I was trapped in, but for the possibility of finding solace amid the chaos.

Eventually, Jake stood, his movements deliberate and measured. Take a nap for a while," he said, in a soothing voice.

I nodded, rising to my feet. “You too.”

As I turned to leave, I felt his gaze linger on me, and I couldn’t help but glance back. For a moment, our eyes met, and something unspoken passed between us—a connection that defied reason.

“Goodnight, Morticia,” he said softly.

“Goodnight, Jake,” I replied, my voice barely audible.

Developing my way to the packhouse, my heart was lighter, but my mind was still in a state of a frenzy of feelings. Jake’s words echoed in my ears, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, I wasn’t entirely alone.

As I lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, it wasn’t Jacob who occupied my thoughts, but the alpha who had shown me kindness I hadn’t realized I needed.