ALPHA'S REJECTED BRIDE: HIDING HIS BABY

 ROSALINE’S POV

Even though I’m an Alpha Princess, in school, I’ve only ever been seen as dirt. Other wolves hardly ever spoke to me. And when they did, they never had anything nice to say. I never questioned it, but a small part of me always wondered why.

I had just finished classes for the day, taking the short walk back to the pack house when I’m cornered by two petite girls. I recognize them from one of my trade classes.

One of them holds out a flyer in my direction, “Rosaline Maxwell, right?” She asks.

“Um, yes…” I reply hesitantly, furrowing my brows. The both of them share a glance, before turning to me, wide grins slashed across their faces.

“It’s for the costume party,” She gestures to the flyer, “It’s tonight, you should totally come.”

I don’t let my surprise show on my face. Pursing my lips, as my eyes dance between the two of them. It was completely unusual to get a party invitation.

For me, at least.

I hardly exchanged words with my peers. Not for lack of trying, but because they avoided me like the plague.

“I don’t know…” I tell them. It’s so unlike them to invite me out. I narrow my eyes, “Why are you inviting me to a party?”

“Oh, it’s a general thing,” the other blonde shrugs, “Everyone’s going.”

Everyone never included me.

I shake my head, a refusal on my tongue-

“I heard It’s being held at Prince Damien’s house.” 

“Yeah,” her friend nods in confirmation, “It’s his party.”

Instantly, I feel the heat of my reddened cheeks. “Prince Damien… Creed?” I ask, my voice small.

The girl nods twice, her voice dropping an octave as she leans into me, “You know, a little birdie told me you might have a crush on him. Seems like I’ve just confirmed it.”

“No, no,” I shake my head in a weak attempt at denial, “You’ve got it all wrong-”

“Oh, please. You’re red as a tomato,” she laughs, “Come with us, we’ll get you a sexy little costume so you can attend his party and make your move. Who knows, knowing Damien, he might be the one to come falling at your feet.”

My heart stutters in my chest.

I did know Damien.

We spent three years in boarding school for royal wolves. That was when my crush began to fester. From the moment I locked gazes with those steely grey eyes, after he handed me a pencil a from the floor. It was the simplest thing a guy could do. Pick up something you had just dropped on the ground.

But it kick-started my school girl attraction towards him, and I’ve been smitten ever since.

It doesn’t help that he’s literally a walking red flag, or a man-whore of the highest account. I never cared, nothing he did was ever enough to sway my feelings for him.

No matter how many she-wolves he’d slept with, or how many hearts lay broken in his wake. So, I know what she means when she says he could easily go for me.

Damien had only one type; women.

But the same way it never swayed me then, it doesn’t fail to not sway me now. Because before I’m aware of what I’m doing, I accept their invite and follow them.

It’s much later that evening when I’m standing in front of the mansion, smoothing the wrinkles out of my leather dress that the nervousness kicks in. I went with a Witch’s costume, and the girls that escorted me to the store advised I choose it since it fits so well, even going as far as pairing it with a long, leather pointy hat.

I knock on the door, steeling my hands at my sides. I’m done searching for a bit of courage. There’s nothing on earth that could prep me for facing Damien.

My brain turns to mush around him, I can barely think let alone breathe right when we’re in the same vicinity, and the slither of hope in my bones telling me he might speak to me today doesn’t let up.

I’m equal parts excited and nervous, barely holding myself together.

The door slides open, a guy I don’t recognize staring at me with wide eyes. He looks away from me to the red solo cup in his hands.

“I must’ve had wayyy more to drink than I thought.” His eyes trail up my costume, then back down again before he opens the door wider, “Fuck it,” he says, “Come on in.”

I pass by him, into the foyer, realizing he’s only wearing a grey shirt along with a pair of dark sweats.

Guess the costume part was optional…?

I take measured steps, unsure of where exactly it is I’m going. The girls who gave me the invite left shortly after we’d gotten my costume, and all of a sudden, I wish I’d stuck to them so I wouldn’t be so damn lost right now.

I enter what must be the kitchen. It’s an open plan, so you’re able to see the living and dining areas from here. It’s where most of the party seems to be holding.

This is obvious from the throng of people moving along to the deafening music, drinking something or getting wild.

After walking deeper into the space, I realize with a shocking clarity, that no one is wearing a costume.

A girl points at me from her spot perched on top the kitchen island, giggling behind her cup as the girl next to her turns to stare. She throws her head back with a laugh.

I glance down at myself. My costume wasn’t horrible, it was a bit on the sexy side even, with all the fitted leather. But the make up? Paired with the hat that went at least three inches above my head? Surrounded by all these normally clothed people, I was a walking joke.

More people take notice of me, as more heads turn in my direction, whispering among themselves and cackling with laughter.

“Yo, who invited this nerd?” A girl yells from a corner of the room, and something cracks in my chest.

When the disco light stops on her face for a beat, I instantly recognize her. She’s one of the girls that approached me this afternoon with an invite.

Her friend saddles up next to her. She mock pouts with a down-turned thumb, “Better hide your drinks before the witch turns it all to water!”

Everyone bursts into fits of laughter, throwing their heads back and absolutely loosing themselves in the spectacle that is me.

Bile rises in my throat. I hold my breath as I stand there. Watching them all berate and ridicule me. For nothing.

Their loud laughter leaves pin-pricks all over my skin. I fold my lips together, so I don’t cry.

I was minding my own business when those girls approached and used information they already knew to get to me. And by the looks of things, it most likely isn’t even Damien’s party.

I’m equally disappointed and relieved. The first because at least he won’t see the absolute disgrace I am, standing in the middle of the room with every one pointing and laughing at me.

And the latter because there’s still that girlish, heart-eyed part of me that really wanted to see him today.

But beyond everything, I’m so fucking hurt.

I spin on my heels, breathing through my nose, one inhale at a time. I might not even make it to the door before I crumble, letting all the people here see just how pathetic I am.

I refuse to cry. But my brain doesn’t get the message, and I feel my eyes sting.

I inhale a deep breath to steady my nerves. A fuzzy, sweet buzz rushes through me and I blink my eyes.

That was… odd.

“What’s all the ruckus about, huh?” A deep voice calls from the living room.

“Damien, come see this!” One of the girls from this afternoon calls out.

Damien?

Oh, my goddess, he’s here?

I inhale a sharp breath, that fuzzy feeling consuming me once again, stronger than before. I want to leave, I should leave.

But something keeps me rooted in place, something that has my wolf up on all fours, straining her ears as her gaze darts back and forth through my vision.

Damien steps through the banister, into the kitchen. And I’m completely unprepared for it.

The black tee he wears clings to him like a second skin, outlining the dips of his biceps on the short sleeves. Veins trickle down his arms, over bronzed skin like intricate designs any woman here would be eager to trace with their tongue.

Me, especially.

His mop of dark hair is pulled back, off his forehead and covered by a backwards baseball cap. Dark denim hangs low on his hips, hugging his toned thighs with every step he makes.

It feels like my body comes to life, wanting to eat up the space between us in mere seconds. My head grows light, warmth spreading down my arms, through my entire body. It’s more than just my normal physical reaction to him, its… carnal, all consuming.

I let out a shaky breath, the sigh escaping my lips. Instantly, Damien’s head jerks in my direction, nostrils flaring as his steel grey eyes grow wide.

“Look over there,” the girl says, “That girl’s-”

The bellow resounds from his chest in a deep, menacing growl, interrupting her words, “Mine!”