Chapter 3
Alpha Brock –
"Grayson, did you manage to tail that erratic woman who stormed out earlier?" I pressed, unable to shake the nagging urge inside me.
A bewildered grin flickered across Grayson's face. I noticed my beta taking his shoes off while I plugged my nose. "Seriously Grayson" I watched as Grayson took out large tacks from the bottom of his black soles.
"Boss, why on earth would you want to track down some lunatic?" he gimaced, his voice laced with dry humor. "As if we don't have enough crazies lining up to meet you."
"Heed my words, Grayson," I asserted, an edge creeping into my tone. "This isn't about her sanity. My wolf is... intrigued by her, deeply. And save your theories about her being my mate—this is different. Her scent was completely masked, utterly undetectable, which is odd. There’s something she's hiding, and I intend to uncover what that is."
"I respect your instincts, Alpha. There was something off about her. Take the tacks in my shoes, for instance. She seemed to sense I was trailing her, probably caught the scent of my wolf, and scattered those tacks to slow me down."
"Alpha, are you going to apply the medicine to the soles of my feet?" Grayson's tone was teasing. Given that we are wolves, with the ability to heal minor wounds almost instantly, I could tell he was just mocking me.
"Next time Alpha, I am bringing a dart gun with sedative laced tips. That will teach her!"
I leaned back, pondering the implications. "Forget about her for now, Grayson. There's another matter at hand. The Alpha from the Silverton pack is considering acquiring property adjacent to ours. He appears to be offering an olive branch, seeking my approval since I'll be his new neighbor before he finalizes the deal."
"Speaking of him," Grayson interjected with a hint of amusement, "did you know he's fathered quite the litter? Seven grown, one teen, and another pup on the way."
I smirked at the thought. "Family size aside, he's reputed to be a decent Alpha. And not to mention potential perks for us if they're right next door. But let's shift focus. I need you to organize a meeting with Silverton's Alpha. We need to discuss this transition of theirs."
Stephanie –
I took my seat at the dinner table, a plate of succulent Shredded Beef with dumplings and rich brown gravy before me. Mildred’s cooking was nothing short of a sensory symphony, and I devoured her culinary masterpiece with an eagerness I couldn't contain.
The peace of my feast was soon shattered by Stephan's irritating interruption. He’s obsessed with that pretentious accent, insisting on 'Stefan' to make it sound French—please. I rolled my eyes, barely concealing my disdain.
"Stephanie, what brings you here, gobbling down the feast as if you've been starved?" he queried, eyeing me with that all-knowing gaze.
The nerve of him. "Oh, spare me, 'Stefan,'" I retorted with a scoff. "I miss Mildred's magic is all. If only I could poach her for my own kitchen."
He leaned in, skepticism written all over his face. "No dice, sis. There’s more. Why the sudden homeward dive?"
I met his gaze, feigning shock. "Moi? Come now, dear brother, isn't sibling love reason enough?"
A chorus of family dynamics unfolded—as my father’s chuckle filled the room, my mother’s disapproving look stilled my heart. It was a futile game; Mother could always see right through me.
"Dinner aside, Stephanie, we must converse in my office afterward," my father’s voice held a gravity that I recognized all too well.
I nodded; fingers entwined in a nervous dance. "Yes, Dad..."
As if on cue, Stephan pounced on my unease. "Are you—don't tell me, you're pregnant, aren't you?!"
"I should knock your lights out for such nonsense," I snapped, thwacking him on the head. "And no, for your information, I'm not 'following tradition' as you so crudely put it."
A cough from our mother, the universal signal to cease the sibling spat, brought a temporary truce as we quieted down.
I heaped more shredded beef onto my plate, while Stephan and I exchanged barbed glances beneath the watchful eyes of our parents.
My father’s looming presence dictated a hasty end to dinner, reminding me that home was not a place of reprieve, but a realm of Alpha authority.
Ascending to my father's office, I prepared myself for a lecture, but when the moment came, I found myself opening up about my disastrous interview earlier that day.
"Father," I hesitated before continuing, "Alpha, I bungled my chance at an internship—essential for my business studies. Could you... provide me with an opportunity within our corporate sector?"
His response hung silent in the air before the ringing phone shattered the stillness.
"Hello Beta Grayson," my father answered, and my stomach churned as he agreed to a luncheon with the very pack I sought to avoid.
As realization hit me like a tidal wave, my protests withered under my father's unwavering decision.
"Yes, Beta. Stephanie majors in Business Law and Data Security," my father confirmed, unknowingly tying my fates to the ones I had just fled from.
I stood there, a maelstrom of embarrassment and apprehension swirling within me. How could I face them again?
"Don't fret," my father’s voice found a soft edge. "Face your challenges head-on, Stephanie. You'll rise above this."
With a heavy heart, I fled the office, calling out for wigs and sunglasses—anything to disguise myself from my fated mate.
Laughter echoed behind me, my father’s mirth a bittersweet melody as I pondered just how I would navigate the morrow’s dreaded encounter...