Hiding the Alpha's Twins

2

MEGHAN

I followed the rest of the pack as they crowded in front of the pack house to welcome the guests with full honors. Considering that basically everyone was already outside, it wasn't hard for me to stay in the back, well hidden.

With a clatter of tires on the driveway, five cars appeared on the driveway: black, luxurious cars. The kind of cars that come with a chauffeur.

The kind of cars I used to ride, too, once upon a time.

Excited murmurs began to swirl around me, everyone was eager to see the Sharp Claws delegation, especially the Alpha, the Luna, and Jackson, the groom and our future Alpha.

"I've heard he's the strongest warrior in his pack." one girl beside me said to another. "We're gonna need an Alpha who knows how to fight."

I avoided commenting by saying that, perhaps, it was a tad more necessary to have an Alpha with some brains - and not just brawn. Fighting was a warrior's job - the Alpha's was to lead the pack and make good decisions.

The first one to get out of the car, welcomed with roaring applause, was the Luna, Marjorie Ballard, shining in her silvery gown, so pale it almost looked white.

It was easy to hear gossip when you were a slave - and it was common knowledge that the Luna of the Sharp Claws was not on board at all with Mylah and Jackdon's marriage.

A stupid, mindless bimbo, she seemed to have called her. In the end, however, the Alpha's will had prevailed. He was the second to come out, and with a beaming smile, he walked to his wife's side, wrapping an arm around her waist.

I watched as they waved and smiled at the crowd, and then headed toward my father and Mylah. From where I stood I could perfectly see the scene unfolding - and if the Alpha warmly greeted my father and Mylah, the Luna only showed a cold smile to both of them and a look of clear disdain to Mylah. My sister hid it well, but it was obvious that that look had upset and hurt her.

A moment later, the crowd exploded. The door of the second car had opened, and Jackson stepped out.

He was as gorgeous as I remembered him, the dark hair, the emerald green eyes, the statuesque, imposing physique, so muscular that it almost looked as if his clothes were about to rip...

So handsome he didn't even look real.

Jackson turned a knowing smile on the crowd, quickly sliding his gaze over it - and for a moment, for a brief, maddening moment, it seemed to me that his eyes rested on me, that he had seen me... that, for the first time in six months on that part, a person who belonged to my old life had seen me again...

But his gaze immediately passed over, shattering my stupid and childish illusion into a thousand pieces.

That life is dead, Meghan! I scolded myself. The sooner you forget it, the better.

So, I swallowed my anger and grief and smiled, clapping like every other member of the pack as the groom bowed and kissed Mylah's hand, who made a big show of showing embarrassment and blushing, making the crowd cheer even more.

When I heard Mrs. Jones' voice calling all the slaves back to the dungeons to work, I welcomed that crude command as a blessing.

-----

This was the last one, I sighed as I put away the last dish I’d washed. I’d been assigned to the kitchens today – a clear way for my father and Mylah to keep me away, to make sure no one would see me and be reminded of the shame I was.

I collapsed onto the chair, so tired I almost passed out. Still, I was also starved, and hunger was a much stronger stimulus than exhaustion. So, I got back up again and walked towards the fridge. There were still some leftovers from that night’s banquet, and I quickly filled a plate for myself.

Fuck, I’d almost forgotten just how good the food tasted. By now I was so used to having just some stale (if not moldy) bread and water that even a plain porridge would have seemed like a feast.

I quickly filled my mouth with all that goodness... roasted potatoes, Wellington beef, cheese, ham…

Until the door creaked.

I gasped, quickly grabbing my plate and throwing it into the trash. slaves were not allowed to eat the pack’s leftovers – and I knew what would happen if I were to be discovered. I’d already suffered that punishment for that very same reason.

“Woah, easy.” a familiar voice rumbled behind me. “Didn’t mean to disturb you.”

I slowly turned, my eyes almost rolling out of their sockets as I took in the shape of the man in front of me.

What the f**k?

What was Jackson doing in the kitchens? Only the slaves were allowed here. Well, it wasn’t like we were the only ones allowed, but no one besides us ever came down here.

I opened my mouth, his name almost rolling off my tongue, before I remembered that I was no longer Meghan Thorne, daughter of the Alpha.

I was a slave, and a wolfless one. I was not allowed to address true wolves and packmates by their name.

“Mr. Ballard.” I whispered, slightly bowing my head. “How can I assist you?”

He gave me a half smile. “Mr. Ballard? Are you for real, Megs?”

Megs... I couldn’t even remember the last time someone called me by my name, let alone a diminutive.

“I’m Jack,” he said. “I’ve always been Jack for you.”

“It would be inappropriate, sir.” I quickly murmured, keeping my eyes cast down.

I couldn’t risk another lashing. Or worse.

“Inappropriate to call me by my name? Please.” he huffed, quickly covering the distance between himself and the fridge. As he moved, I couldn’t help but notice the smell he emanated – scotch. He’d drank, and a lot.

Well, that explains the hunger. And the drawling.

“Thank goodness there’s still some food down here. I’m starved. They gave us such small portions at the party … even a newborn would be starved.”

“I can cook something for you, sir.” I said. “You don’t have to eat leftovers.”

Jackson smiled. “Why not? They’d go to waste. That'd be a pity.”

And so saying, he proceeded to fix up a plate for himself. After a couple of minutes of microwave, he sat down on the table and started eating.

“Sit.” he said after a while, when he noticed I was still standing.

“I’m fine, sir.” I replied. Slaves were not allowed to sit while a free wolf was there, we always had to stand up and be ready to comply with each and every order.

Jackson sighed and circled his head. “They really did a number on you, huh? You’re exhausted, Meg, sit. I’ll order you if I have to.”

He patted down the chair next to his, and at that point, I had no chance but to obey. I sat down next to him, even though the stench of alcohol made me want to vomit.

“So,” he said after a while. “I’m getting married.”

“Congratulations, sir.”

“To your sister.” he added.

I gulped down. “I know. Congratulations to you both.”

Jack huffed, and pulled out a flask from his pocket, taking a swing. “Never, in my life, I’d have thought I’d get married to f*****g Mylah Thorne. But here we are, huh? The Alphas did their business and sold us. It’s f*****g prostitution, if you want my opinion.”

I barely nodded, mainly to keep him calm and avoid his anger. From my point of view, I would have given anything to be in an arranged marriage, I would have given anything to just not be where I was now.

“She’s a dumb, wicked bitch.” he went on. “Always been. Definitely not the kind of woman I thought I’d choose to spend my life with. I wanted someone good, someone kind… someone great. Someone who had greater expectations in life other than being someone’s trophy wife”.

He’d understood my sister well, his description summarized her perfectly well.

“You should give Mylah some time.” I replied, though. “She’s still young, there’s plenty of room for her to grow. Besides, you don’t know her that well, sir. She might turn out to be the perfect woman for you”.

Jackson sighed, slowly shaking his head.

“I wanted my mate.” he murmured.

This time, the smile that crept up on my lips was bitter. “Mates are rare, just a bit more than a fairytale.”

It’s childish to hope for a mate, I thought.

I quickly grabbed his plate and put it in the sink, starting to wash it … but I let go of the sponge as soon as I felt hands cupping my hips. And lips, hungry lips, on my neck.

“She’s not you."