Once Rejected, Now Desired by Three Alpha’s

Chapter 4

Peach's Pov

This couldn't be happening, or maybe my eyes were deceiving me. It couldn't be the same guy from earlier; it just couldn't be him.

"Come and greet your future in-laws, Asher," the lycan announced with a smile, revealing his name. Asher. We hadn't really talked before, and in the rush of the moment, I hadn't bothered to inquire about his name. I hoped he didn't know mine, as the mere thought made my heart race, and the embarrassment would be unbearable.

"Nice to meet y’all, my name is Asher," he introduced himself, and our gazes met. His reaction suggested he had no clue who I was, a relief that washed over me. He didn't remember me, and that was a saving grace.

"You're such a handsome young man," my mom complimented him, to which he responded with a faint smile.

"I'll excuse myself now," he said, walking away. The lycan's displeasure at his departure was evident, but all I cared about was that he didn't remember me.

"Excuse my son; he isn't used to having people around, so he's still a little shy," the lycan king explained with an awkward laugh.

"You don't have to tell me that. I've known him since he was little; he's always been a pretty shy child," my dad added, attempting to ease the tension.

"I'm really happy about this union with your family. My late wife would have been happy to see this," the lycan king said, revealing a hint of sadness. It dawned on me that there was no woman present; he didn't have a mom. Perhaps that's why Asher was the way he was. But I shouldn't jump to conclusions; I barely knew these people.

"I'm here for them both; I'll be the mother figure," my mom declared with a smile, although I doubted they would ever fully tolerate her.

"Thank you so much," the lycan king expressed his gratitude. "Now that you both have spoken, what do you think about Peach?" he asked his son. I anxiously awaited Amon’s response, hoping he would be honest about his true feelings toward me.

"You can never make any wrong decisions when it comes to my life. She's the perfect fit for me," he claimed with a smile playing on his lips. What a deceptive statement. If only I had the power to make him confess his true feelings.

The atmosphere became more complex as Amon’s words hung in the air, a facade of contentment masking the underlying tension. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at his insincere response. If only he would reveal what truly lurked beneath that smile.

The lycan king seemed pleased with the answer, unaware of the charade his son was putting on. “That’s wonderful to hear. The union will strengthen our packs and bring prosperity to both families.”

"I'm so glad to hear your true feelings about my daughter," my mom says, her face beaming with a smile.

The lycan king turns his gaze towards me, and my eyes widen as I prepare for the impending question. Should I confess the real truth and risk facing the consequences of my mom disowning me? Or should I follow Asher's lead and weave a web of lies?

"I am satisfied with him," I say, managing a faint smile, choosing the safer path.

With a burst of enthusiasm, the lycan king declares, "It is settled then. This alliance will undoubtedly work out. This marriage will be known for centuries to come, the best wedding the country has ever witnessed," his tone laced with confidence and ego as he rises from his chair.

"It will be the best wedding," my mom chimes in, echoing the sentiment.

"It is time for a feast!" he announces with gusto.

The dining hall surprises me with its grandeur, easily accommodating fifteen people. The table is adorned with a lavish spread, making my mouth water. However, my mom shoots me a discreet signal to eat sparingly, instantly wiping the smile off my face. I settle for a piece of fruit.

"Why are you eating just that? There are so many delicious options," the lycan king expresses concern.

"My daughter doesn't eat much, but she's content with what she has," my mom interjects, diverting attention from my selective choices.

"I find that hard to believe," Amon mutters under his breath, audible to me due to our proximity.

"Well, if that's the case, I suppose it's alright," the lycan king concedes, avoiding further discussion on my eating preferences. He appears to be a peace-loving man. My dad shoots my mom a disapproving look, clearly unhappy with her response. I signal to him that I'll handle it, urging him to calm down.

"I'm glad you're here to dine with us," the lycan king remarks as soon as he spots Asher. His presence unnerves me, reminding me of our encounter at the pub. We sit across from each other, and I make a conscious effort to avoid eye contact.

"Pass me the chili pepper?" Asher requests. I hope he isn't addressing me, but it becomes clear when he repeats, "Please pass me the chili pepper." He's undoubtedly talking to me.

"What are you doing, Peach? Pass the chili," my mom's voice carries a hint of annoyance, undoubtedly directed at me. I reluctantly hand over the chili to Asher, attempting to avoid eye contact. Yet, our gazes lock briefly, and he shoots me a peculiar look. Panic surges through me – what if he has remembered me? The implications of that realization could be disastrous.

The feast continues with my parents and the lycan king engrossed in wedding discussions. Frankly, I couldn't care less about the impending nuptials. Asher seems disinterested, buried in his phone. Anna, on the other hand, can't seem to take her eyes off him, as if she's captivated by some unspoken connection. Amon looks visibly stressed whenever he checks his phone, presumably dealing with his ex-girlfriend's drama. All I desire now is to conclude this day and retreat to the comfort of home.

"We thank you for having us today," my dad expresses gratitude as he hugs the lycan king for goodbyes.

"I'll be expecting you more often, and your family. Take care of my daughter," the lycan king adds, breaking the hug. The final farewells are exchanged.

Back home, my mom can't contain her excitement, repeatedly expressing joy that I'm finally getting the life she envisions for me. She insists on a strict diet starting tomorrow, leaving me feeling exhausted from the day's events. I retreat to my room, freshen up, and prepare for bed. Staring at the ceiling, a familiar routine when something troubles me, I'm on the verge of drifting into sleep when a message on my phone jolts me back to consciousness. Retrieving my phone from the counter, my eyes widen in shock at what I'm seeing.

I stared at the message in disbelief, hoping my eyes weren't deceiving me for the second time. The words on my phone screen confirmed what I scarcely dared to believe—I was accepted into the fashion school. A wave of excitement surged through me, and I couldn't contain my joy.

"Hell no, no way, hell no," I exclaimed, my words escaping in a mix of disbelief and elation. I hurried downstairs, seeking my dad, the bearer of good news in our home.

"Dad!" I called out, the urgency evident in my voice.

Concern etched on his face, he asked, "What's the matter, my child? Are you okay?"

I stammered, struggling to articulate my happiness, "You...you remember the school that I said I was rejected from?"

"Yes, I remember," he replied, his anticipation growing.

Excitement bubbling within me, I shouted, "I got in again!"

"Congratulations, my love! I knew you'd get in," he expressed his joy, pride gleaming in his eyes.

Curiosity piqued, my mom joined the conversation. "What is happening? Why aren’t you speaking?" she queried with annoyance creeping into her tone.

"I got into my dream fashion school!" I exclaimed, the thrill evident in my voice.

However, her response shattered my elation. "You aren’t going anywhere," she declared, and I felt my heart splinter into a thousand pieces.

Confused and desperate, I asked, "What do you mean, Mom?"

She dismissed my dreams callously, "You shouldn’t be concerned about useless things anymore. You'll be married soon."

Tears welled up, and I implored my dad, "She can't do this to me."

With a stern resolve, my dad asserted, "My daughter will go to school."

Defying my dad, my mom insisted, "I always listen to you, but this time I won’t. She needs to focus on important issues, not school. Besides, she decided to be homeschooled. We didn’t force her to do it."

Dad, unwavering in his support, declared, "This is her dream, and we can't take that away from her. It's her life, and she gets to decide."

My mom, however, remained obstinate, asserting her authority with a stern tone. "You are wrong. I gave birth to her, so I get to decide, and she isn’t leaving this house."

The tension in the room thickened, leaving me caught in the crossfire of conflicting dreams and parental authority.

"Please, Mom, I really want to do this, and I can't give up on my dream," I pleaded, tears streaming down my face. "This is the only thing that will make me face my fears and actually be with people. I want to be the best designer in the world, and that's why I need to attend this school." Despite my heartfelt explanation, she seemed unmoved.

"That's the school her future husband goes to. It would be good if she goes, especially considering that her father-in-law is a designer. Don't you want your daughter to impress him?" My dad intervened with a calm tone, revealing a side of the situation I was unaware of. To my surprise, it seemed to be working, as my mom appeared more receptive.

"You can go to the school," she finally relented, and I couldn't help but hug her tightly. "I love you so much, Mom," I expressed, happiness lacing my tone.

"You should go to sleep now; you have to get ready," my dad suggested. The joy in my heart was overwhelming as I made my way to my room. Although sleep eluded me for a while, I eventually drifted off, eagerly anticipating the moment when I would take the first step towards my dreams.