Chapter 10- The winner
1443 Words
Jo stormed ahead of the two fairies, who were chattering nonstop behind her.
If she had known fairies were such gossip machines, she might have reconsidered making that deal.
Mina and Daya were delightful, sure — but exhausting.
Thanks to Dante winning the hunt, a grand feast was being thrown in his honor tonight.
Unfortunately, that also meant Jo was now stuck accompanying him as his chosen maiden.
Keeping his word, Dante had spoken to the former Alpha and arranged for Mina and Daya’s release.
However, the fairies decided to stay a week with Jo until a messenger could be sent to the Fairy Kingdom to retrieve them.
Now she had to figure out how to squeeze two more bodies into the already cramped room.
It had barely been manageable with three — now it would be like living in a sardine can.
Polly’s going to kill me.
And worse — where the hell was she supposed to get a dress for the feast?
Jo groaned inwardly.
As she approached their room, she heard soft sobbing inside.
Instantly alert, Jo rushed in —
only to find Lucy bawling her eyes out on the bed.
"Lucy? What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you again?" Jo asked, panicked, checking Lucy for fresh bruises.
Her old injuries had already healed thanks to werewolf regeneration.
Lucy shook her head, wailing harder.
"It’s so wrong, Jo! It’s not fair!" she cried, clutching the book tightly against her chest. "Daisy’s pregnant, but Drake... he... he marries someone else!"
Jo blinked.
Her heart cracked.
She stared at Lucy, the words slowly sink in.
Book spoiler.
THE book spoiler.
Lucy’s face crumpled in horror as she realized.
"Oh no, Jo. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to — I just... I read ahead while you were gone—"
"Shhh," Jo cut her off, swallowing her heartbreak painfully.
"It’s okay. Just... next time, wait for me, alright?"
Lucy nodded guiltily, wiping her tear-streaked face.
It’s fine, Jo told herself.
Lucy’s been through hell. If a book gives her happiness... it’s fine.
She would survive.
Maybe.
Mina and Daya barged in then, looking around curiously.
"Bit tight in here," Mina muttered, flipping her wavy green hair off her face.
Jo sighed.
"This is one of the bigger omega rooms. It’s all we have."
"It’ll do," Daya said cheerfully, throwing herself onto Jo’s bed and sighing dramatically into the blankets.
Lucy watched them, eyes wide, clearly overwhelmed.
Jo introduced everyone quickly, trying not to dwell on the stabbing pain still twisting inside her chest.
It’s okay, she told herself again.
MUST NOT CRY. BE STRONG.
A knock at the door interrupted her silent battle.
"Jo?" a high-pitched voice called.
Jo stiffened.
Gina.
"Yes?" she answered tiredly.
Gina stepped inside, sneering at the crowded room.
"Wow. A gathering of freakshows," she muttered under her breath.
Lucy ducked her head in shame.
The fairies hissed softly, glaring at Gina.
Jo gritted her teeth.
"Let’s hurry up, Gina," she said, pushing the blonde out the door before the fairies murdered her.
*
Gina dragged Jo through an exhausting series of dress fittings, makeup trials, and accessory debates.
Jo wanted to die.
Finally, she picked up a royal blue dress just to shut Gina up.
"I like this," Jo declared.
Gina huffed but relented.
"Fine. Let’s move on to your hair and makeup."
Hours later, Jo sat in front of the mirror, barely recognizing herself.
Her vibrant red hair was pulled into a sleek high ponytail, adorned with a delicate jewel bead.
Her makeup was soft, natural — surprisingly tasteful for Gina.
The royal blue off-shoulder gown hugged her figure, the satin brushing lightly against her skin.
The V-shaped neckline exposed just enough collarbone and skin to be elegant without being indecent.
"You look fab," Gina said smugly. "Thanks to me."
"Sure," Jo muttered.
But when she looked into the mirror...
For a moment, her breath caught.
She looked like a girl she used to know.
A girl from another life.
A life full of dreams — before it had all burned down around her.
She tore her gaze away before the memories could drag her under.
"Remember, Jo," Gina said, busy contouring her own cheekbones, "the former Alpha wants the royal guests kept happy."
"I know," Jo replied flatly, already turning for the door.
Her legs carried her automatically toward the General’s quarters.
The scent hit her first.
Lavender and woods.
Strong, fresh, addictive.
Jo inhaled without meaning to, feeling dizzy from it.
"Hi, Jo," Dante’s familiar voice rumbled.
Jo shivered.
She wanted him to say her name again. And again.
She was definitely going crazy.
Dante stood before her, devastatingly handsome in a black suit and crimson tie.
The deep red tie matched the fiery tones of Jo’s hair perfectly.
"You look even more gorgeous tonight," he said warmly.
Jo’s cheeks heated uncontrollably.
"You look... somewhat presentable too, General," she teased, trying to brush it off.
"Please," he smiled, "Call me Dante."
Jo shrugged, pretending not to care — even as her heart stuttered in her chest.
*
The feast was grand — absurdly grand.
Alpha Warren had gone all out to impress the royal guests.
Tables groaned under mountains of food.
Servants scurried.
Entertainers danced, sang, performed.
The entire pack grounds buzzed with noise and light.
Jo sat stiffly beside Dante, trying not to look awkward as he chatted easily with the former Alpha.
Across the hall, she spotted Jayden — a proud, scowling statue — with Gina draped possessively around his arm.
Gina wore a black skin-tight dress with a high slit, trying to ooze elegance.
The effect failed the moment she opened her mouth.
The feast roared into full swing — drunken laughter, music, the clink of glasses.
Jo glanced around, half-curious.
Where was Caleb? Not that she cared. Really.
Bored out of her mind, Jo sneakily grabbed Dante’s wine glass and downed it in one go.
The rich alcohol burned down her throat.
She felt lightheaded almost instantly.
Probably shouldn’t have done that, she thought fuzzily.
She wasn’t one of them.
She didn’t have the same werewolf tolerance.
Her head spun faster as loud music thudded through the speakers.
She caught snippets of a nearby conversation — something about promises.
The word slammed into her chest.
Promise.
Drake had promised Daisy he would never leave.
And he still married someone else.
Jo’s heart cracked all over again.
Suddenly she couldn’t breathe.
Choking on emotions she couldn’t contain, Jo bolted out of the feast.
*
She didn’t know how far she ran.
She only knew the cold air and the burning in her throat.
Finally, when she was alone, Jo broke down.
She sobbed, covering her face with trembling hands.
It wasn’t just about Daisy and Drake.
It was everything.
All the promises broken in her own life.
All the dreams shattered.
All the people who had betrayed her.
Jo cried like the lonely, heartbroken girl she still was underneath all her armor.
Suddenly, strong arms grabbed her and spun her around.
"Jo? What’s wrong? Did I do something?" Dante’s voice was rough with worry.
"I... Dai... Pregnant... Drake left..." Jo mumbled, the words slurring from the alcohol.
Dante stiffened, furious.
Was Jo pregnant?
Had some bastard named Drake abandoned her?
He would kill him.
Right now.
"Where does Drake live? I’ll find him," Dante growled.
Jo sobbed harder, resting her head against Dante’s broad chest.
"He... married someone else... after promising..." she wept brokenly.
Dante’s heart shattered.
He wrapped his arms around her, protectively cradling her small body.
"He’ll pay," Dante vowed quietly.
He had fallen for her. Hard. There was no denying it now.
"Shh, it’s okay," he whispered, stroking her hair.
"It’s allllll... Genny’s fault," Jo mumbled drunkenly.
"Genny?" Dante repeated, confused.
"She... writes... stuff with..." Jo slurred more words before passing out completely against him.
Dante caught her gently.
Confused but determined, he carried her bridal-style back to the omega quarters.
Inside their tiny room, he found the two sleeping fairies curled up on floor mattresses.
He carefully laid Jo on her bed.
A book on the nightstand caught his eye.
He leaned closer and saw the author's name.
Genny.
Everything clicked into place.
Dante bit his lip, suppressing a laugh.
So, Jo wasn’t pregnant. There was no real Drake. It was a character from her book.
Relief flooded him.
He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her soft, sleeping face.
What are you doing to me, Jo? he thought helplessly.
He gently lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
And then he forced himself to leave — before he did something stupid.
- Writer
