Fated to the scarred Alpha

An unexpected guest

*Mary*

The morning after the most interesting ball of the season, I sit in the morning room reading Jane Eyre when the butler walks in and bows slightly.

"Miss, you have a guest."

I groan inwardly. Miss Hermione has certainly wasted no time in seeking me out for gossip. "Inform her that I'm not at home."

"Not a 'her,' miss, but the Alpha of Snow Moon." He informs me.

My heart thunders as I quickly rise to my feet, pat my hair, and smooth my skirt. "Show him in."

"He is in the library with your father. I'm to take you there." He says.

"Why didn't you say? He's here to see my father then. Not me." And why? Why would he seek out my father? Why hasn't he come specifically to see me? Why does it pain me so that he hasn't? Because we are friends, that's all. It's no more than that.

The butler looks confused. "My apologies, miss. I know only that I was sent to fetch you as the Alpha wishes to speak with you."

"Yes, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so irritable." And why am I apologizing to a servant? Because I am flustered by Stephan's arrival.

Not waiting for the butler to escort me… I am, after all, quite familiar with the location of my father's library… I hurry from the room and down the hallway. I'm not certain why I feel such a need to rush or who I think might need protecting… Stephan or my father.

As soon as I'm near the library, the servant opens the door and bows slightly as I glide past. My father's study is small, a wall of shelves, a few chairs scattered about, and his massive desk. As a child, I would sit on his lap while he read reports from his estate manager.

Now he stands by the fireplace, an empty tumbler in hand. I suspect he dearly wants to refill it, but Stephan is gazing out the window near the table that houses all manner of spirits. His dark blue jacket is finely cut, outlining the broad expanse of his shoulders. Even from this distance, I can see that there's strength in his back. Tall and erect, he stands with a military bearing. Or perhaps it's simply a mark of self-discipline, although he came close to losing it last night. I don't want to consider that if I hadn't stepped in, he might have never released his uncle. The fury distorting his features… while I understand it… wad remarkably unsettling.

At the sound of my clicking heels, he turns in such a way that he can see me clearly, but the disfigured portion of his face is not visible to me. I realize that he's deliberately chosen his position near the windows with that purpose in mind. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch my father's shudder because he can view what I cannot. He had never had much of a cast-iron stomach, but his reaction still irritates me. Based on the small bit of information Stephan revealed last night, he has been a soldier in the great war. As such, he deserves our consideration and gratitude. Coming to a stop only a few feet from my childhood friend, I curtsy. "My Alpha.”

"Come on, Mary. Surely such formalities are not needed between us."

His voice is rough, as if his throat has been scraped raw. I noticed it last night, but for some reason, it seems more so now. I can't help but believe that a different life would have given a different timbre to his voice.

"It's lovely to see you... Snow."

He releases a low bark of laughter. "You are the first outside of my family to address me by my title."

I scowl at my father, who has the good grace to blush before shifting his gaze longingly at the decanters. I turn my attention back to our guest. "Rather appropriate, don't you agree, that it should be I?"

"Quite. I was hoping you might take a turn about the garden with me." He says.

"That's hardly appropriate," my father says. "She is betrothed, man."

"Yes, so I heard," Stephan says, never taking his gaze from me. "While I have not had the honor of meeting him, I do know Fitz is a most fortunate man."

I feel the heat burning my cheeks. "You are very kind."

Sadness touches his remaining eye. "No, Mary, I fear I'm not."

"Being in service to the lycan Queen changed you, I suppose." I mumble.

"A good many things changed me."

I nod, suddenly at a loss for words, wishing my father wasn't close enough to hear what we might say. "I must retrieve my wrap... and my maid. She may serve as our chaperone. If you will be so good as to excuse me for a few moments?"

"Naturally." He says with a small nod.

"I will meet you in the garden." I quickly say.

He gives another quick nod.

"You don't mind, do you, Father?" I think he intends to object again, but then his gaze swings to Stephan, and he does little more than mutter, "No, of course not."

I can't deny that Stephan can be quite intimidating. I suspect my father would be shaking in his boots if he had witnessed the incident at last night's ball.

I stroll from the room, hoping I give no indication that my nerves are tingling. As soon as I'm through the doorway and hear the quiet snick as the servant closes the door, I scamper down the hallway. I have a thousand questions for him, I hope he will provide a thousand answers, but I think it is unlikely. He is very different from the lad with whom I had ridden across fields. But surely a small piece of him still exists somewhere.

In my room, I ring for my maid, then snatch up my shawl and drape it over my shoulders. I go to my vanity and dab perfume behind my ears. A silly thing to do, and yet I can't help myself. I want him to look at me as though I'm a woman, not a child. Not that I have any interest in him other than friendship, but if he doesn't see me as equal in maturity, it's unlikely that he will share all he's endured these many years. Once no secrets existed between us. Now I fear there are a good many.