Chapter 4

****Alyssa****

The drive is long and quiet. Enzi fought my uncle for me and then doesn’t even want to talk to me. Talk about confusing. He spent the entire drive texting on his phone, staring out the window, or mind-linking his Beta, all while emitting frustrated sighs. At one point he passed his Beta a handwritten note, like we were all 15 and passing notes in class. I’m not sure what he wants me for, but I am not looking forward to whatever it is. As each agonizing minute ticks by, I feel myself retreating into my shell again.

I asked my uncle for my phone back right after the wedding, and that was when Alpha Enzi snatched it right from my hand, saying he had to hold on to it for “security reasons for the time being.” Does he think I am a security risk? Does he think I’m a spy or something? It’s not like I chose this ridiculous marriage. I didn’t have any say in the matter at all.

Without any contact, my friends will be worried about me. I wonder what my uncle will tell them? Will he use the same line I told Gail, that I’m touring packs? I had plans to sit around and listen to their stories from the ball last night. We were going to kick it together like regular boring teens, playfully razzing each other about everything. I never even got to meet Rob’s mate, Claire.

I tried, and failed, to initiate a conversation with my new husband several times during the first part of the drive. I asked what his pack was like, how big it was, where it was, how far, etc., and he answered each question with a short, curt response, usually just one or two words, sometimes just a grunt. Eventually, I gave up and drifted off to sleep. 

“Hey, we’re here,” Beta Jayvon reaches behind him to gently shake me awake. It’s late when we arrive, not fully dark, though; the sky is alight with the fiery colors of the approaching summer sunset. I rub the sleep from my eyes and try to focus on what is outside. I see a beautiful old mansion. I don’t know anything about architecture, but if I had to guess, I’d say it’s a French Chateau. It’s a large cream-colored brick manor house, at least three stories tall, but the wide rambling wings make it look short. It’s freaking massive. Looking at this thing, I’m half expecting Leonardo DaVinci or Mary Queen of Scots to come waltzing down the stone stairs in full renaissance costumes. Or maybe Batman.

A small group of people awaits on the flagstone path for us. There’s an older woman, his mother, I’m guessing, and a pretty blond about my age who I assume is the Beta’s mate, and two men, my new Gamma and the other might be a warrior and friend. Perhaps my husband has a brother, though this man looks nothing like my Enzi. I can say his name now without the Alpha title since we are married and all. I’ll have to get used to the fact that I am married!  Oh my Goddess, that is just mental.  

As I wonder about all of this, I realize I know nothing about this new husband of mine. And judging by his reluctance to talk to me on the way here, I’m not quite sure how I am supposed to figure him out. Adding to that, I have zero boyfriend experience; how do I make a man happy if I don't know anything about him?  How can I help him run his pack if he won't even talk to me? At least I have that experience since my parents included me in everything.

The second the car stops, my husband leaps from the car while the pretty blond girl rushes toward him and leaps into his arms.

What the….

My stomach clenches in displeasure for the second time today. I wasn’t even out of the car yet, and he was determined to humiliate me already. What a flipping jerk! Who the hell was this girl?!

I notice the Beta’s eyes look at me briefly in the rear vision mirror as he hasn’t left the car yet either, and I can’t determine what I see in his eyes. Is that pity or disinterest? He doesn't sit there long enough for me to figure it out. 

Great.

Now I’m alone in this car,  that husband of mine will think I’m sulking, and,. I can’t let him think that. Holding my head high, I let myself out of the car and walk toward the happy couple, my husband and his mistress. 

“Who’s that?” the bubbly blond enquires.

“My cousin,” says the Beta instantly. 

His cousin? I’m flipping furious, but I don’t argue. They obviously planned this embarrassment on the way here, that would explain all the mind-linking and sighing.

At least I know my place now. No, not exactly, I’m not the wife and Luna he promised my uncle I’d be, but I’m not sure what I am either. If he thinks I’ll let him touch me, he has another thing coming.

“Hi,” chirps the blond. I’m still too shocked to answer right away. 

“My girlfriend is speaking to you,” the Alpha, my husband glowers at me. 

I guess I was too slow to react. I narrow my eyes in hatred and fix him with a glare I hope displays the full depth of my disgust for him. Slowly, I turned my gaze to his girlfriend. The girlfriend glows with joy at being called his girlfriend and being defended by her Big Bad Alpha like that.

“Hi,” I say, politely as my breeding and upbringing dictate. Although inside I am livid, and I’m sure my still face shows some of that fury clearly enough. 

“Are you tired? Baby said it was a long drive,”

Baby? 

I smile and nod slightly. I don’t trust myself to speak right now. I’d very much like to slap them both. Slapping an Alpha is akin to declaring a death wish, so I’m doing my best to handle this embarrassment with grace. I’ll have to think about what to do later.

I hate feeling weak. 

I hate being used.

That’s exactly what I am right now: a used, weak little girl, alone and abandoned.

“Come on, sweetie, I’ll show you to your room,” the blond mistress says. She hooks her arm through mine and pulls me up the stairs, almost skipping with happiness that her boyfriend has returned. I turn and shoot another frosty glare at the asshole I’m now married to; the fucker, at least, has the decency to look ashamed. Still, the fire within me grows and it takes every ounce of willpower within me not to lash out and scratch that look off his face. I will not show him that he has hurt me.

I can’t believe I ever thought he was handsome or sweet. I am such a flipping idiot.

None of the other people there even acknowledge my existence. What does that make me? A secret shame?  Why the heck did he marry me? What’s the point of an arranged marriage if you don’t honor the marriage half? Does that mean the alliance is null and void? Am I a hostage? Will he attack my uncle's pack now? Would my uncle even care that I’m not what I was traded to be? Aunt Carin sure wouldn’t. I understood then that she just wanted me out of the way to clear the line of succession for her children. 

~♥~♥~♥~

An hour later, I’ve learned that the bubbly blond is called Merideth and is actually really nice — so far, anyway. I wish she were a bitch so that I could justify hating her. But so far, she’s considerate and caring and worried about settling me in for my “visit.”  

What’s worse is she’s my age; she just turned 18, and it shits me that she acts like she’s ten years older. I wonder how long Merideth and my husband have been together, but I refuse to ask. So far, she’s been far more considerate than my jerk of a husband or his Beta. 

She doesn’t seem to consider me a threat to her relationship with my husband. I doubt she knows he is now legally married. Despite being tempted to tell her, I’m in enemy territory and alienating the only person who’s given me the time of day this far wouldn’t be wise yet. Besides, if I’m a bitch to her, she won’t even understand why.

“Well, I’ve got to run. I missed my man so much,” she giggles as she throws her hands up excitedly, and it makes me want to throw up. “If you need anything, please, let me know. My job as Luna is to be the mother of the pack, you know? Do you have a good Luna in your pack?”

“She was wonderful,” I say, thinking of my mother, not my uncle’s bitch, power-hungry hag of a mate. 

“What time is training? I assume you have a training program here?” I ask her before she leaves because I need to burn off this anger and focus it on something acceptable  — like smashing his warriors to a bloody pulp. It’s not that I like him; that ship has sailed, caught fire, and sunk in an ocean of indignant mortification. It’s just that I need an outlet to channel this fury at this shitty situation I’ve been sold into.

“5:30 am for the warriors,” she answers, “but usually, you need permission for that group. Then breakfast in the pack house about 7 am. The whole pack trains in the afternoons at the field by the high school. The Alpha declared tomorrow an impromptu school holiday for us, although he wants everyone to train at 5:30 am instead.” 

Nice of him to tell me; I wonder if he were hoping I wouldn’t go.

“He said he missed two days of training and wants to see if we slacked off,” she adds, patting my arm in what I guess she considers a friendly way. It feels condescending to me, though. I imagine crabs, the public lice kind, itching and irritating the skin where she touches me. Eww.

Then, she bounces off to find her man, her baby, and I’m left alone in my new room, on my wedding night, while my husband presumably screws his mistress next door. 

Time to evaluate my options.

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