Chapter 2: Alaric. The Mate I Can’t Have.
Dahlia
I don’t sleep the night before my wedding. My body is buzzing with dread, like every nerve has been replaced with static. I blink at the ceiling so long it starts to warp, like even the room knows I don’t belong here. I lie awake in a bed that isn’t mine, wrapped in sheets that aren’t mine and smell too clean.
But let’s not pretend the darned sheets are what’s on my mind. I wish they were, but they aren’t. No. Because every time I close my eyes, I see him. Alaric. The mate I can’t have.
The father of the man I’m marrying.
It feels like a cruel joke. My wolf isn’t speaking to me anymore. She’s sulking, wounded. And honestly? Same.
Why would the universe be like, “Hey, this gorgeous man is your mate, but guess what? You can’t have him. HA, sucker!”
That’s basically what happened.
Whatever, I will survive.
And I do.
When the knock on my door comes at dawn, I’m already sitting up. Half-dressed, staring out the tall window like a determined ghost.
My will to live? Gone. Cremated. Buried under a thousand layers of white satin and political obligation. My determination to survive this wedding? Present. Buzzing in my chest like a dying firefly on its last flicker of hope.
“It’s me,” Junie calls softly through the door. “Time to get ready.”
My body moves on autopilot. I let the stylist pin up my silver hair and dust my cheeks with blush. I stare at myself in the mirror. I don’t look like myself. I look like the image of what a Luna should be.
Pretty. Silent. Perfect.
Even my eyelashes are curled up perfectly.
Junie laces up my dress. “You look beautiful,” she whispers.
I nod, even though I feel hollow.
There’s a knock at the door again. “Your father’s waiting downstairs,” someone announces.
I walk like someone heading to their own execution, only with more lace and sparkles. Step by step. Down the elegant staircase. Into the great hall where my father, Alpha Burtley, is waiting.
He straightens his shoulders when he sees me. “You honor our pack today.”
I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “Of course, Father.”
The ceremony is held in the Thorne estate’s ballroom, transformed with white roses and floating candles. It’s beautiful. A fairytale scene crafted for someone else. I hate it.
Adrian waits for me by the altar. His smile is wide. Fake. He is probably nervous too, but it’s not the same kind of nerves. He doesn’t know what I know, which is that his father is my fated mate.
A man I can’t have and, because I can’t have him, my heart is already broken.
Still, I won’t look at the devil himself. I refuse.
But even if I’m trying like hell to pretend Alaric doesn’t exist, I can feel him. Somewhere in the crowd. Watching.
When I reach Adrian, he takes my hands in his. “You look incredible,” he says, flashing a row of perfect white teeth.
I smile on instinct since that’s what I’ve been taught. If a man smiles at you, then you smile back. “Thank you.”
The officiant begins speaking. I don’t hear a word. My mind hums with static. My wolf whimpers.
Say the vows. Smile. Pretend your life isn’t a diplomatic sacrifice.
It’s done before I realize it. Adrian kisses me, and the crowd claps.
I’m married.
My mate is still watching.
And I don’t know how I will survive this.
That night, the wedding reception blurs past in a haze of toasts and music and endless congratulations. I dance with Adrian. I pose for photos. I drink champagne that I spit into the nearest rose bush when no one is looking.
Everyone says we look perfect together. Like I’m the luckiest woman alive and not silently screaming inside my own skull.
I excuse myself before midnight, pretending I need air.
Outside, the night is cool. I lean against a column in the courtyard, breathing deep.
Then I hear footsteps.
I don’t need to look to know it’s him. My pulse jumps the second I catch his scent. It’s earthy and cedar-like. You know, the book boyfriend scent all the romance novels describe. My skin prickles before my brain catches up.
“You didn’t look at me once,” Alaric says quietly.
“Was I supposed to?”
“Just surprised me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m pretty.”
What the hell? Is that supposed to be humor... or is he really that self-confident?
I snort. “Believe it or not, but not all women want to look at you.” I do. I want to look at him all the time, but I won’t admit that.
“You do, though.”
Oh. My. God.
I want to strangle him. How dare he call me out like this?!
Keep your calm, Dahlia. Breathe. Behave! Don’t let your eyelid twitch!
“I don’t.”
“Liar.”
“I don’t want you.”
“Another lie.”
I sigh. “Fine. I looked because I didn’t want to look at you.”
He stands beside me now but doesn’t touch me. “You made your choice today.”
My throat tightens. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Marrying someone is a choice.”
What does that even mean? He is married too!
“I had to marry your son to uphold the peace.”
He’s quiet for a beat. Then, “He’s not your mate.”
“I know.”
“And I can’t be.”
I glance up at him, more confused than ever, but since I need to say something, I tell him calmly, “Then let’s not talk again until the full moon comes and we can reject each other. That should be the rule, right?”
That surprises him, makes his beautiful eyes widen. “You’re not going to fight for me?”
I almost laugh. Almost.
“I’m more intelligent than to cry and beg for a man who is already married. But God, a part of me wants to. Wants to scream at him, throw something, ask why the hell fate handed me this mate bond just to rip it away. I won’t do it. But it lives in me, crawling under my skin like heat I can’t sweat out.. I also know when I’m not wanted, so no, I’m not going to fight for you like I’m desperate. I know my worth.”
Those silver eyes stare down at me harder, and there’s a crucial moment of silence where I worry Alaric is going to pass out from the sheer logic I gave him. He is blinking at me like he’s never met someone with actual dignity before.
“O-okay,” he says slowly. “I did not expect that...”
“And what did you expect? For me to not have a backbone and lie down in front of you and whisper, ‘please take me, I’m yours’?”
Now his lips twitch. “You’re different from most women I’ve met.”
My eyes narrow because I’m not different. All women are strong and beautiful in their own way. Men who say ‘you’re not like other women’? Fuck them. All they’re trying to do is put us women against each other when we should be playing on the same team. Sisters got each other’s backs.
I glare up at the stupidly beautiful idiot. “I can’t wait for the full moon.”
I expect Alaric to agree.
But what he does is worse.
He smiles, and the audacity makes me want to slap him... and kiss him... and push him against the nearest wall just to see if his mouth feels as good as it looks. Which is insane. Which is exactly why I turn away before I do something unforgivable. I also want to scream, but that wouldn’t make a difference. I want to run, but where the hell would I even go?
Instead, I walk away.
Because I already said my vows, and Alaric is going to be nothing but a memory once the full moon comes.
He and I weren’t made for each other anyway.
He’s too... too smug. Too beautiful.
His stupid smile and those silver eyes flash in my head, and suddenly my cheeks are on fire.
Seriously. If he were ugly, this would be so much easier. Alaric is an asshole, and the only thing he’s got going for him are his looks. Ugh. Why is my wolf lying in a corner and mourning him?
He’s an asshole, and I don’t need him!