Arranged To The Beast Alpha

The Dress fitting

LEAH

I met Andy and Cleo as I stepped out of Damien's art gallery. From the look on their faces, they had been waiting a long while.

“Good day, Luna Leah; I see you were having quite the time. It's so good to see you again.” Cleo said almost immediately. Like a kid arriving at an amusement park, she said, “Shall we? I have tons of dresses for you to choose from.”

“Dresses?” I thought she was the event planner; had she taken the job of the stylist, too?

Andy beckoned on me to follow them. They led me to a large hall, which I presumed would be my wedding hall.

Cleo came by my side and took my hand leading me to a chair close to four mannequins occupying extraordinary dresses with amazing designs.

To the far left, a white, lacy masterpiece stood. Delicate patterns danced across the bodice, shimmering like moonlight. The skirt cascaded down, layers of sheer tulle creating an ethereal effect. It was a true fairy tale gown, fit for a princess.

Next to it, a creamy ball gown shimmered with subtle radiance. The fitted bodice showcased intricate beading, while the full skirt seemed to swirl with every movement. This dress whispered promises of whimsy.

My gaze shifted to the bold, blue gown adorned with silvery stones. It sparkled like a starry night sky, the stones catching the light with every subtle movement. This dress screamed confidence and glamor.

Finally, the last gown stole my breath. A majestic blue ball gown, its black shimmering stones embedded like constellation maps, drew me in. The delicate lace and subtle sparkle conjured images of midnight skies and mystery.

Which one do I choose? I said to myself, my heart racing with excitement.

“We could have a fashion show, where you try out all the dresses in style.” Cleo's lips stretched into a pleading smile; it was hard to resist, and the gowns were calling out to me.

“Why not.” I shrugged, what's the worst that can happen?

Cleo erupted in a squeal,” There's the changing room.” She pointed to a closed door just a few steps away.

“Thanks.” I grabbed the first dress on the rack and left to get changed. As I stepped out in the white dress, Cleo's abrupt shriek shook me to the bones.

“Goddess, you look beautiful, like a princess.”

A princess I was close to, maybe not entirely, but close; I only got the opportunity to wear beautiful clothes, but where was my happiness? Under the feet of my step brother and father.

Cleo raised her camera, grinning as she framed me in the last dress, its deep blue fabric and black diamond stones glinting under the light. I tried to give her my best pose, shifting a bit to one side, tilting my head—anything to get into the rhythm. There was something almost magical about this, feeling beautiful, letting myself be seen.

But then the door swung open with a low creak, shattering our little moment. A guard entered, his expression as sharp as a blade, eyes fixed directly on me.

“Luna Leah, Alpha Damien sends for you. Immediately,” he announced, voice tight, almost buzzing with urgency. It was like his words carried Damien’s command through him like he couldn’t bear to waste a second.

I nodded, smoothing the dress down instinctively. “One minute. I’ll change and meet him.” But he shook his head, stiff and unyielding, like he’d already dismissed any delay.

“He wants you now,” he said flatly, a tone that left no room for negotiation.

I suppressed a sigh, glancing down at the dress, wondering if it would be appropriate to show up in something so. . . extravagant. But I didn’t have a choice, not if the guard was this insistent. And the Alpha is rumored to be the impatient kind.

I turned to Cleo and Andy, my smile a bit apologetic. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

They gave me understanding nods, and I followed the guard out, but his pace speed left me to walk in front, I thought we were in a hurry.

The weight of urgency settled into my steps. We walked down the corridor, the quiet pressing around us, when suddenly, I felt it—a cold, hard edge against my neck, freezing me in place. My breath hitched, and my heart kicked into overdrive.

“What are you doing?”I asked, whispering the words; a lump formed in my throat.

The guard did not reply, he pushed me forward, forcing me to walk slowly even as I resisted.

“W–what do you want?” I whispered, my voice thin, wavering with the edges of fear. Every instinct in my body screamed that something was wrong, deeply wrong. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, but my legs felt rooted to the spot, my thoughts a frantic tumble. Was this it? Was this how I would die?

Silence. No answer, just his hot, heavy breath brushing the back of my neck and the unwavering press of cold metal. Questions flooded my mind—had my father sent him? Did he know I’d failed to convince Damien that everything was calm? Or was this someone else entirely, someone I hadn’t anticipated?

“Who sent you?” I managed to ask, the words feeling like glass in my throat. “Who are you working for?”

Still, nothing. He said nothing, didn’t flinch, Just that same sickening weight on my neck, as if he was daring me to try something, anything.

But I couldn’t just stand there. I needed to fight back. My body tensed, my mind racing, but my dress—beautiful as it was—felt like a prison, restricting every possible movement. I felt trapped, tangled, and helpless.

In a desperate move, I twisted and sank my teeth into his hand, biting down with all the strength I could muster. It was enough to make him grunt, but the response was immediate—a brutal slap that struck my face with a force that left me seeing stars. Pain exploded in my cheek, and my ears buzzed as I stumbled, the sharp edge pressing even harder against my neck.

“You stupid little brat,” he sneered, his voice a low growl. “Don’t make my job harder than it already is. I was paid to bring you, so don’t make this difficult.”

With a shove, he guided me into a darker, quieter part of the corridor, away from the light, away from anyone who might see. His words chilled me, the weight of what he was saying settling heavily in my chest. Paid to bring me. . .

“Killing you here would be messy,” he muttered, almost to himself, with a twisted sort of amusement. He nudged me further into the shadows, his grip ironclad. “Let’s find somewhere a little quieter.”

A cold terror settled into my bones, spreading like ice through every part of me. My pulse pounded louder, a frantic drumbeat of fear. I opened my mouth, trying to scream, but the fear held me captive.

How do I get out of here? How do I save myself? No one would think to find me here.