f*******n by the Alpha

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

The river's song weaves through the air, a soft melody that seems to hum in tune with my racing heart. I glance at Alex, his brown hair catching glimmers of sunlight, his blue eyes reflecting the clear skies above. He stands close enough that I can see the faint stubble along his jaw, and I'm suddenly aware of a warmth spreading through me that has nothing to do with the afternoon sun.

"Alex," I start, hesitating as I toy with the idea of revealing my secret, the one that binds me to the earth in ways that no one else in Pine Pack understands. "There's something about me—"

"Something magical?" he says, half-teasing, but there's a curious spark in his gaze that tells me he senses more truth to his words than he realizes.

My breath hitches, and for a moment, I feel the earth's pulse beneath my feet, urging me to share my truth. But before the confession can tumble from my lips, the shrill sound of laughter and the crunch of boots on the forest floor signal the return of our hunting party.

"Hey! Isla! Alex!" The call is boisterous, too loud against the tranquility of the riverbank. It's Lucas, his voice carrying easily through the trees, followed by the others who emerge like specters from the underbrush. The moment shatters, and I swallow the words meant only for Alex, feeling the veil of my secret wrap tighter around me once more.

As we trek back to the village, I fall into step beside Daisy, her red hair a fiery contrast to the deepening shades of the forest. Her green eyes dart to mine, filled with a concern that makes my stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Careful, Isla," she whispers when the others are just out of earshot. "People are talking, saying you and Alex seem... well, closer than they'd expect."

I stiffen, my mind reeling with the implications. The pack is tight-knit, their eyes always watching, always judging. My friendship with Alex—could it be so misinterpreted? Guilt pricks at me, an unwelcome guest amidst my tangled thoughts.

"Thanks, Daisy," I murmur, my voice barely louder than the rustling leaves. "I'll keep that in mind."

Lucas joins us, his expression somber. "She's right," he says quietly, casting a sidelong glance at Alex, who walks ahead, oblivious to the scrutiny. "You know how fast rumors spread. And with Mark being who he is..."

"Mark," I repeat, the name of my husband - the Alpha - tasting strange on my tongue. With everything that's happened recently, the distance between us feels vast, like the expanse of wilderness that surrounds us. Lucas nods, his own resentment toward the pack's hierarchy flashing briefly in his eyes.

"Rumors or not, you're still one of us, Isla," he adds, offering a supportive squeeze to my shoulder. It's meant to comfort, but instead, it reminds me of the precarious edge on which I balance. The connection to Alex, the whispers of the village, my duty to Mark—it's a tangle of threads, each one threatening to unravel the life I know.

"Thanks, Lucas," I say, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes. "I haven't forgotten where I stand." But even as I say it, I wonder if that's truly the case.

I thread my fingers through the thick locks of my honey blonde hair, a nervous habit that betrays my inner turmoil. I'm walking alongside Mark now, his presence both comforting and distant, like the echo of a once-familiar song. The village huts come into view, their thatched roofs like slumbering beasts in the waning light.

"Mark..." My voice trails off as I try to gauge his mood. His black hair is ruffled from the hunt, the shadows beneath his brown eyes bearing witness to the weight of leadership.

He glances at me, an eyebrow raised in silent inquiry, but I falter. How can I explain the whispers without sounding like I'm confessing to something more? "It's nothing," I say too quickly, hating the lie. It coils in my stomach, a serpent waiting to strike.

"Nothing doesn't have you twisting your hair," he counters with a knowing look. The Alpha in him senses the discord; it's an instinct as natural as breathing.

"Rumors," I admit, the word a heavy stone. "They say...they talk about Alex and me." Saying it aloud, to Mark, feels like betrayal, and I flinch inwardly at the hurt that briefly clouds his gaze.

"Should I be concerned?" There's an edge to his question, a hint of territorial growl.

"Of course not," I rush to reassure him, reaching out to touch his arm. My fingertips graze the fabric of his shirt, longing for the connection we used to share. "I love you, Mark. You're my Alpha, my husband."

"Love isn't always enough," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. "Not when tradition and expectation bind us."

"Then let's prove them wrong," I plead, desperation clawing at the composure I struggle to maintain. But even as I speak, doubt creeps into my heart. Alex's image flashes before my eyes—the way he understands the earth's whispers, the pull I feel toward him. A pull I shouldn't feel.

The silence stretches between Mark and me, a chasm widening with unspoken fears and unacknowledged desires. We reach our hut, and he pauses at the threshold, his hand hovering over the door handle. He turns to look at me, and the intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch.

"Whatever happens, Isla," he starts, his voice softening, "I want you to remember where your loyalty lies. With the pack. With me."

"I know," I whisper, but the conviction falters. Loyalty, love, duty—they mingle and merge until I'm no longer sure where one ends and another begins.

"Good," he says, and steps inside. I follow, leaving the whispers and the rumors behind, but they cling to me, an invisible shroud that I cannot shake.

"Tomorrow," Mark says as he lights a candle, casting flickering shadows on the walls, "we'll face whatever comes together."

"Tomorrow," I echo, a promise hanging in the balance, and I wonder if I'm strong enough to keep it.