Chapter Four: Stephi's Standoff with Alpha Brock: A Clash of Wills

As I awoke with light filtering through the curtains, I followed my strict routine, despite it being well past midnight. I had never missed my 4 am alarm. The familiar comfort of my bedroom walls enveloped me. I had plans to join the pack for traditional training exercises that day.

The night before, I had rummaged through my mother’s belongings for appropriate attire to meet Alpha Brock, settling on white gloves when I couldn’t find the wig and sunglasses I had wanted. I wasn’t truly surprised; as werewolves, we rarely had use for such human disguises. My mother's puzzled expression had been telling; she probably thought my request was strange.

Exhausted from training, I returned to my room to shower away the sweat. My busy schedule had me rushing to the mall at nine, following breakfast with the pack at six. There, I'd catch up with friends, sharing the latest news on relationships and achievements.

I was set to wear a tailored grey skirt, a white sweater, and heels for the meeting, which was a far cry from my usual jeans and hoodie. I felt uneasy shifting from an unnoticed student to a well-dressed woman who stood out—one of the reasons I had avoided attention and any expectations of becoming a Luna. I had bigger dreams beyond the pack, and luckily, none of the guys at my University seemed to know I am a werewolf.

Today's transformation was a first-time for my family, as I only dressed up at school. I utilized delicate makeup enhancements, a slight covering of silver eyeshadow, capitalized by natural rosy lips, completed my transformation. Spinning before the mirror, I admired the reflection. My golden locks, typically free and flowing around the small of my waist, which I now prepared to disguise under a brunette wig. This disguise aimed to keep my identity, especially from Alpha Brock, a well-guarded secret.

As I awoke with light filtering through the curtains, I followed my strict routine, despite it being well past midnight. I had never missed my 4 am alarm. The familiar comfort of my bedroom walls enveloped me. I had plans to join the pack for traditional training exercises that day.

The night before, I had rummaged through my mother’s belongings for appropriate attire to meet Alpha Brock, settling on white gloves when I couldn’t find the wig and sunglasses I had wanted. I wasn’t truly surprised; as werewolves, we rarely had use for such human disguises. My mother's puzzled expression had been telling; she probably thought my request was strange.

Exhausted from training, I returned to my room to shower away the sweat. My busy schedule had me rushing to the mall at nine, following breakfast with the pack at six. There, I'd catch up with friends, sharing the latest news on relationships and achievements.

I was set to wear a tailored grey skirt, a white sweater, and heels for the meeting, which was a far cry from my usual jeans and hoodie. I felt uneasy shifting from an unnoticed student to a well-dressed woman who stood out—one of the reasons I had avoided attention and any expectations of becoming a Luna. I had bigger dreams beyond the pack, and luckily, none of the guys at my University seemed to know I am a werewolf.

           Today's transformation was a first-time for my family, as I only dressed up at school. I utilized delicate makeup enhancements, a slight covering of silver eyeshadow, capitalized by natural rosy lips, completed my transformation. Spinning before the mirror, I admired the reflection. My golden locks, typically free and flowing around the small of my waist, which I now prepared to disguise under a brunette wig. This disguise aimed to keep my identity, especially from Alpha Brock, a well-guarded secret.

            My siblings catcalled as I descended the stairs. "Really, guys? It's just a skirt and a blouse. Seriously, get over it!"

            My mother's white gloves adorning my hands, I headed for my car, affectionately bidding my "J" series Jaguar a good morning before speeding towards the mall.

            I couldn't help but grimace as I whizzed by Alpha Brock's lavish glass structure, ducking at the sight of him outside. "I must be out of my mind," I muttered after passing, chastising myself for skirting so close to the risk of recognition.

The new look I got from the mall—a fake brunette wig that fell to my shoulders and dark sunglasses—boosted my confidence. I couldn't help but silently laugh, thinking about how this Alpha would have no idea what's coming.

As formalities ended, the meeting started with my father and brother at my side. The main topic, Alpha Brock's offer to combine his pack with our smaller yet richer one, sparked my rebellious spirit.

    "My apologies, Alpha Brock, but although we're fewer in number, we surpass you in wealth and possess essential skills for the royal army," I said confidently, my voice steady. I firmly rejected his proposal, that he had hidden behind a guise of bargaining.

Shock registered on his features as I interrupted the escalating tension with a raised hand, signaling my family to remain seated. My father was sending me a mental reprimand via our mind-link, I promptly silenced him with a mental wall—my focus resolutely on chastising Alpha Brock.

The conversation escalated with me shooting up from my chair, Alpha Brock did the same. He moved closer, and tension filled the tight space between us. My inner wolf's urges clashed with my resolve to stand firm.

"You're treading dangerous waters, she-wolf," he breathed into my ear, both an admonishment and something that stirred deeper fires within me down to my very core. Why was I turned on by the bickering between Alpha Brock and myself? I must be some kind of glutton for punishment.

            Stepping back to clear my head from the overpowering scent of the mate bond, I challenged, "Alpha, will you welcome us, or must we seek out another pack for our corporate offices to reside next to? Integrating our pack with yours is not an option!"

            Our standoff ended with his scrutinizing gaze, searching mine behind the sunglasses. "Have we met before?" His words carried a hint of recognition.

I sat back down, purposefully avoiding his gaze. I didn't want him to get too close; although I had sprayed myself to hide my scent, if we locked eyes—without my sunglasses on—he would realize that I'm his mate. I couldn't risk allowing him anywhere near my sunglasses in case he would try to remove them.

            I got to my feet once again as he continued to annoy me with his antics and gave Alpha Brock a straight-up glare. There is no greater sign of disrespect than giving a powerful Alpha the finger and expecting him to back off from the topic at hand.

            Frustration masked by cool poise, I pivoted away with a parting ultimatum, "Your answer by morning, Alpha."

            Outside, I sat near my Jaguar, heart beating with unsettled chaos, observing the inner workings of the restaurant. Through the window, I could see my father earnestly apologizing for my actions. I shook my head in disbelief. Didn't he realize that it was firmness and resolve, not submission and regret, which would make an impact on someone like Alpha Brock?    

 My brother, a mixture of concern and levity in his voice, rushed to my side. "Your weeks from a straitjacket in Dad's eyes, Stephi," he joked, proposing an impromptu run with our wolves—a rare invitation I accepted with a nod.

            At first, I refused to hand over the keys to my prized possession, engaging in a tug-of-war, but I eventually yielded to my brother's demands.

            As I took a seat in the passenger side, I was certain my brother could perceive the bond between Brock and me. I knew I couldn't conceal it from him; he always had the ability to see right through me.