Cecelia
I’d only had a few days to digest the fact that my father had traded me off in an arranged mating. The betrayal festered in my mind and I vacillated between rage and disappointment, between screaming at my father and giving him the silent treatment.
I declined his offer to escort me on the short car ride to my new home. I didn’t want to stand like a helpless little girl while my father handed me over to a strange Alpha. So I wheeled my suitcases myself and thumped my way down the steps of my childhood home while my father stood on the porch like a statue.
I chucked my two suitcases and a backpack into the back of the SUV and slammed the rear door with as much force as I could muster. The SUV bounced and creaked in protest, and the poor bastard who had to drive me winced from his place behind the wheel. I jumped into the front seat, buckled my seatbelt, and immediately toed off my shoes and put my feet on the dash.
Every swear word known to man and wolf was running through my head as I crossed my arms over my chest. I glanced out the passenger window at my home and saw my little sister Catherine standing in the doorway looking lost and forlorn next to my father. Even at a distance, I could see her red and swollen eyes leaking out a fresh batch of tears.
She had cried and clung to my neck all morning long.
I reminded myself for the hundredth time that I was doing this for her. I was joining Alpha Ellis so that she wouldn’t have to. I would do anything for my sweet, innocent baby sister.
Even mate with a stranger.
Catherine gave me a sad, small wave as the car pulled away. My father did nothing. He just stood there, stone-faced, like he wasn’t sending his firstborn daughter to the slaughter.
I brooded through the entire hour-long drive, lost in my own dark thoughts. My father had tried to encourage me to make the best of the situation. This was a good match, he insisted. It didn’t matter that Alpha Ellis was an entire decade younger than me, I was about to become the luna of a reputable pack.
Right, whatever that meant. I was perpetuating generations of sexist, patriarchal bullshit. It wasn’t like I was going to a job that I didn’t like, where I could walk away from it at the end of the day and go back home to my comfortable bed and my family. I would be living this discomfort 24/7 for the rest of my natural life.
Oh my god. The. Rest. Of. My. Life. F.uck my luck that werewolves are known for their incredible longevity. I pressed my hands to my temples and swore out loud. Not just once.
The driver gripped the steering wheel tighter and pretended not to hear me having a meltdown. I think he was worried I would kick the dash and trigger the airbags.
I was thinking about something more drastic.
A few times my hand went to the door handle, and I had to squash the urge to jump from the moving vehicle each time it slowed for a turn. Everything in me wanted to bolt. I had no problem going rogue, but if I ran, Catherine would have to take my place as Ellis’ mate.
I had come back to this over and over again in the past few days, as I had tried to figure out some way to escape this shitshow. It was either me or Catherine.
When we pulled off the highway, I had almost resigned myself to my fate. Almost. We slowed down as we approached a wrought iron gate. A uniformed guard leaned into the window to give me a curious stare before he waved us through.
By the time we pulled into the long circular drive, I was sucking in deep breaths, once again trying to suppress my rage and put on some semblance of dignity and diplomacy.
The driver let out a sigh of relief as he shifted into park, obviously grateful to drop me at my destination and get away from me and my dark, dangerous mood.
It wasn’t the first time I had laid eyes on the Dark Rising pack house, but it had been a long time since my father had brought me along for a pack function at the big brick building. It was more modern looking than our home at Two Pillars. It was blocky, with a lot of tall glass windows facing the driveway and the front gardens.
The purpose of the building wasn’t immediately obvious, since it wasn’t shaped like a house. It could have been a small hospital, a suite of lawyers’ offices, a hotel, or maybe a school. Only our species knew that the building was meant to house the Alpha’s family, staff, visitors, and pack offices.
Some men were standing by the front steps, apparently ready to receive me. I swallowed down my unease and let myself out of the car before the driver could come around to open the door for me. I schooled my face into a neutral mask; a skill I had learned from my alpha father. I kept my shoulders square as I approached the building. There was an older man with thinning white hair wearing a western shirt and a bolo tie. The cowboy garb suited him well enough even if it didn’t fit the way most people in those parts dressed. To his right was a tall, well-built young man with gorgeous skin, dark eyes, and a neatly trimmed beard. I assumed that was Alpha Ellis.
Next to him was another man with a pink, boyish face. At first, I thought he was the same height as the dark-skinned man, until he stepped down from the step that he had been using like a riser, and I realized that the top of his head was level with my nose. His icy blue eyes pierced me like he was trying to stare me into submission. When the other two men stayed put as the shorter man took another step forward, I felt a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. I realized that it was not the athletic bearded man who was the leader.
I was looking down at none other than Alpha Ellis. The man my father had passed me off to, my future mate.
I gazed back at him, unflinching. In my head I thought, you might be an alpha, but you are not my alpha, wolf-boy. His scent wafted around him like a cloud of fruity bubble gum, badly masked by a musky cologne. If my eyes watered, it was his odor, not his attempt at an alpha stare-down.
His eyes raked over my body like I was a horse at an auction. “Well,” he said with a curl of his lip, “At least you aren’t ugly.”
“At least you are charming.” The sarcastic response slipped past my lips before I had time to bite my tongue. His eyes flickered with confusion, and behind him, the bearded man made a choking sound. He covered his mouth and coughed to cover up the fact that he had almost laughed.
The blond man narrowed his eyes into a glare. “I am Alpha Ellis, this is my beta, Samson, and one of our elders, Gerald Halfmoon.”
The old man bowed slightly. “Welcome, Luna.”
“Thank you,” I took a deep breath, and tried again for diplomacy, “I am Cecelia Forge–” I was going to extend my hand, but Ellis cut me off.
“Of course you are,” Ellis brushed away the introductions with a bored wave of his hand. He turned and started into the house, leaving me and the others to follow behind him.
It disoriented me to find the interior of the Dark Rising pack house rather homey. The foyer opened up into a sitting room with comfortable-looking couches and colorful throw pillows. It was a strange contrast to the small, stiff man to whom the house belonged.
How this young alpha, sporting an olive green t-shirt and a pair of camo cargo pants, looking every bit like he was decked out for military training, fit with this cozy, welcoming house, was a mystery to me.
He paused at the threshold of the sitting room and snapped his fingers. Immediately, a young man appeared. He didn’t look like he was much more than a teenager, but he kept his eyes glued to the floor, so it was hard to tell his age. “Get the luggage from the car,” Ellis barked, “And bring it to the luna’s suite.”
Beside me, I saw Samson cringe, and even the elder made a face. I was already on edge, so I was very sensitive to the subtle feeling of discomfort that radiated off the two men, and even the boy who scurried to obey. What was wrong with the luna’s suite?
Maybe not everyone was on board with the idea of bringing in a stranger to be their luna? Maybe I shouldn’t claim the luna suite until after he marked me, or after a ceremony? “It's not necessary to put me in the luna suite,” I said, thinking that I was smoothing some ruffled feathers, “Any old guestroom will do.”
Ellis spun around and was in my face immediately, his teeth gritted in annoyance. "It is, in fact, necessary, because I said it is. Do not ever presume to question me, or my decisions, woman."
I raised a single eyebrow and stared back at him, more shocked than anything at his little outburst. If Ellis thought he was going to bully me, he had another thing coming. He glared at me, but I merely stared at him until he got tired and looked away with a huff.
He took my elbow in a firm, almost punishing grip and guided me toward the stairs. At the landing, he turned right and marched me down a long hallway, past many closed doors before he stopped at the one he wanted. He twisted the handle and pushed the door open, and then tried to shove me inside. I yanked my elbow free and stepped in with as much pride as I could muster under the circumstances.
The afternoon sun poured in through lacy curtains at the large windows to the right of a big, four-poster bed. It wasn’t a bad room, even though it felt kind of bland and impersonal. I turned back to Ellis, who stood at the door, holding the handle, like he was waiting for my reaction.
“This is your room, Cecelia. I’ve got work to do. Don’t wander off.” He turned and left, closing the door behind him. The soft click of the latch sounded like the slam of a prison cell to my aching soul.
I looked around at the empty room, and gave words to my captivity, “Welcome to Dark Rising, Cecelia Forge.”