Chapter 6

Mara

I thought I’d enjoy my excursion into town with Rhoda, but I’ve been isolated for so long that all the people made me nervous.

Everyone seemed to know who I am. People stopped me to introduced themselves, welcomed me to the town, and asked me if I’m happy to be here, when the wedding would be, if I like the Alpha, and wanted to know who bruised me up. Who dared to touch a hair on our Luna’s pretty little head? Is your father happy with the new arrangement? 

All questions I couldn’t answer, or didn’t want to answer

Rhoda was no help. She basked in the attention. Or perhaps people here are just like that and she’s so used to it that she didn't even notice. I couldn’t quite figure out which one of the two it was.

By the time we made it back to the mansion, I was exhausted and ready to crawl into a hole. 

There was a time, not so long ago when I think about it, that I enjoyed going out. I was popular in school - no doubt because of my father's money - and I had no shortage of invitations to every party thrown by both humans and wolves. I loved being the centre of attention.

Today, it felt as if I tried to navigate a minefield. I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

In a weird way, I long to go back to my quiet, solitary house back at Red Ridge where my only company was the radio and vacuum cleaner.

Chad knocks and enters with my mountain of parcels. I haven’t shopped like that since I was eighteen and my father instructed me to get everything I needed for finishing school. He made sure that I bought the best of everything. It wasn’t for my sake. I realise that now. It was so he could show off his wealth to the Alphas.

The butler drops all my parcels on the floor, and says, “I’ll send an Omega up to-”

“It’s fine, Chad, thank you. I can put it away myself.”

My bedroom, which I figure won’t be my bedroom for long, is beautiful. I love the rustic interior. The bed frame and headboard are made from wood like everything else, and my window overlooks the town and the lake in the distance. 

The antique wardrobe is in immaculate condition, as is the matching dresser and vanity. Even the bathroom is beautiful. The countertops are made from the most beautiful black granite which seems to sparkle in the light. The basin, made from some kind of stone, shower, and bath blends in beautifully with everything else.

It’s like living in nature without any of the inconvenience. The only thing that reminds me that I’m not inside a natural museum is the white toilet that stands out starkly against all the earthy colours.

“Supper is served strictly at seven,” Chad says and puts the last of my parcels on the floor. “Alpha Johnathan appreciates...punctuality,” the butler warns me. 

It doesn’t happen a lot, but every so often, a glimmer of a warning shines through. Someone will mention something Johnathan doesn’t like, and everytime they do, I can see just the slightest hint of discomfort in their eyes, if not outright fear.

“D- does he dress for dinner?” I ask.

The butler’s entire face lights up as he smiles at me. “No. This is a home, not a palace. Alpha just keeps a strict schedule, that is all.”

I nod my understanding, and Chad quietly leaves my room.

My father always insisted that we dress up for dinner. I wore evening gowns from the age of thirteen, always dressing as if I was on my way to the prom. I never asked him why. I just assumed everyone did things that way.

When I moved into my own home, Lucas continued the tradition. I cooked every meal, but for dinner he expected at least a three course fare. There was never anyone to serve us, so not only did I have to dress up in slinky evening gowns every night, I had to serve my mate while wearing six inch heels and trying not to spill food on my expensive dresses.

Once, I accidentally upended an entire bowl of soup on a particularly expensive, red evening gown. Lucas grabbed me by the hair, and shoved my face into the tureen, almost submerging my head in the boiling hot soup. 

He held me under until I blacked out. When I woke up, I lay on the floor, covered in soup, vomit, and blisters as big as my fist. The one on my forehead was so deep that I could see bits of my skull poking through the skin.

I shifted that night. Alone in my room. I was afraid I’d die if I didn’t. 

Lucas came in to see my wolf, my beautiful Aria, and commanded me to shift back to human. I was healed, but it wasn’t worth the beating he gave me for shifting against his command.

I couldn’t walk for three days, and it took nearly two weeks for my broken wrist to heal - injuries that would have healed instantly if he’d let me shift. 

And even then, he still wanted me to cook and clean for him. Broken hand and all.

Tears as hot as that soup burns the back of my throat, but I quickly swallow them away. 

All of that is behind me now. Lucas is no longer my mate, he has no claim to me. He abjured me in front of witnesses, and even if he wants me back at some point in the future, he’ll need my permission this time because my father disowned me. Douglas Smith has no say over my life anymore.

I glance at my watch and realise, in horror, that dinner is only an hour away. I still have to shower, and I desperately need to change out of the wrinkly green dress. It’s starting to smell.

Alpha Johnathan may not have a dress code, but I’m fairly certain he’ll want me to look at least presentable when I join him for our evening meal.

Forty-five minutes later, I’m ready. I did my hair a little, curling it so it falls in golden red curls down my back, and dressed in a comfortable, but I hope suitable, dress that covers me from my neck to my toes.

I tried my best to hide my bruises with my limited supply of make-up, but I can still see the different shades of green, blue, and purple that colour my face.

I sigh loudly and decide to let it go. If I don’t leave now, I'll be late for dinner, and I do not want to upset my future mate before I know what kind of man he is. Many men make all sorts of promises until they trap you in a marriage, and then it’s game over.

It’s only when I leave my bedroom that I realise I’ve made a catastrophic mistake.

I have no idea where the dining room is. and time is ticking away.

With Aria being asleep, I have no way to track it down by smell. I’m practically human at this point.

There’s no one around to ask for directions either. When we came back up, the pack house was bustling with life, but now it’s as if the whole staff upped and disappeared into thin air.

Bile pushes up into my throat and my stomach cramps spasmodically. He said he doesn’t beat women….unless he has to. What if that ‘has to’ is to correct their behaviour?

“Mara,” Jonathan says from the bottom of the stairs.

I almost burst into tears when I see him.

“Why are you just standing there?” he asks.

He did dress for dinner to some degree. He changed out of his shorts into linen trousers, replaced his t-shirt with a button down shirt, and he's wearing shoes.

“I- I don’t know where the dining room is,” I answer

To my utter relief, Jonathan smiles. “It’s a big place. I know. I am just heading there myself. Come. I’ll show you.”

For a moment, I am frozen, unable to move. What if he’s only pretending to be nice? What if I join him and he sucker punches me for being too stupid to find the dining room by myself?

“Mara!” Jonathan snaps. “Right now. I don’t like being late.”

That gets me out of my frozen state. “Sorry,” I mutter.

Jonathan waits for me as I descend the stairs, his face pulled into a disapproving scowl. “I like things a certain way, Mara.”

Feeling bold I say, “I thought you said there are no rules. That I must merely conduct myself with the dignity of a Luna.”

“I told you that I don’t have specific rules for you. I never said that there are no rules. Imagine the chaos if I had no rules or laws.”

“Will you tell me the rules now?”

“No,” he says as we start to walk through the many hallways. “You’ve had a long day, so I decided that it can wait.”

“But what if I accidentally break a law?” I ask, hating how timid and scared I sound, but simultaneously unable to stop it.

“Then I will inform you, and correct you.”

Correct me. Those words leave me terrified. 

I escaped Lucas and his abuse. I should be happy. Ecstatic. But I’m more afraid than ever before.