2. Who Is In The Tavern?

AQUAMARINE'S POV

Clinton's hands remained frozen on my waist as his twin brother, Clifford, approached.

"Just sharing a moment with her, brother," Clinton said, feigning innocence and smiling at me as if he hadn't touched me a few seconds ago.

Clifford's brows furrowed, and for a moment, I thought he looked concerned, unlike Clinton's fake innocence. "Aquamarine, are you alright?"

I nodded, still feeling trapped and embarrassed. Clifford shouldn't have seen us, especially in this state. At least, not until tomorrow, when Clinton announces me.

Clinton's grip relaxed, but his eyes flashed with a warning. "This doesn't concern you, Clifford," he growled.

Clifford's jaw clenched. "Actually, it does. Father's waiting for you. The Alpha's Council has arrived."

Clinton released me, adjusting his clothes. "We'll deal with this later," he whispered, his breath cold against my ear.

As Clinton walked away with Clifford, I released a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Why did Clinton's touch feel so wrong?

I ran as fast as my legs could take me through the darkness to my house without looking back.

I sneaked silently into the house, hoping to avoid being caught by anyone. I took a deep breath as I quietly closed the door.

But my peace was short-lived.

"How dare you shame us like that?" Sarah shrieked, "You're worthless, Freak!"

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could utter a single word, her hand connected with my cheek in a resounding slap, causing me to hit my head against the door.

"You embarrassed us today!" Sarah spat. Her grip on my arm tightened, "Your pathetic display during the assessment was humiliating!"

Sarah's slap came again and again, each one more painful than the last.

She snarled. "I should have gotten rid of you a long time ago!"

I stumbled back, tears flowing down my already hot cheeks as I tried to stand up. But my vision was too blurry, and I could feel my cheek swell.

"Where did you run to?" Sarah's voice cut, her eyes glowing red with fury.

"Mother, I saw her with Clinton," Fiona said, coming out of nowhere. "They were practically devouring each other."

Sarah's expression turned uglier. “You whore. You think you can have Clinton's interest?" she scoffed. "You're just a plaything, bimbo. A temporary distraction."

"B-but Clinton's going to announce m-me as his mate tomorrow," I whispered, even talking hurts now.

Sarah's laughter sent chills down my spine as she walked away. "Clinton will never choose you. Even the Goddess wants nothing to do with you."

Fiona's laughter echoed, as she made her way to her room. ”You need a reality check and I know just how to give it to you.”

After the torture, I entered the store room, my makeshift bedroom. The space was very tight and narrow, the only way to sleep was by folding myself like a baby. Exhaustion overwhelmed me, and I collapsed, wincing in pain till I eventually slept off.

The next morning, I heard fast and heavy footsteps coming towards my room, but I felt too weak to move. Suddenly the door banged open, and a tall person stood in the entrance.

I lazily opened my eyes and immediately regretted why I decided to sleep more.

My father, Beta Liam, stood before me, his eyes red with anger. He raised his hand, and I flinched, anticipating the slap. But instead, I received a crushing blow, heavy to my head. I gasped as my legs gave out beneath me.

I fell to the ground, struggling to catch my breath. I couldn't even see clearly anymore as I forced myself to kneel and bow my head.

"W-welcome back, sire," I whispered out of breath, trembling.

I knew better than to call him father; the last time I did, I couldn't move for a week. He beat the living daylight out of me, and all that's left are bruises.

Beta Liam's gaze swept over me, his face squeezing in disgust. "I can't believe you're still alive," he growled. "After what you did last night."

Sarah and Fiona appeared beside him, smiling like they had just won a trophy. I was very sure they told him about the assessment or maybe he heard from other pack members.

His blow still stung, tears flowed down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it off. He hated seeing me cry, not because he cared. But because he believed a creature like me had no soul.

Beta Liam turned to Fiona and Sarah, his expression softening into a warm smile of approval.

"Well done, Fiona, for covering up her shame during the Assessment," he said, handing them a pouch of gold coins. "Use this to prepare for the Mating Season festivities tonight.”

Fiona squealed with delight, clutching the pouch tightly in her hands. "Thank you, Father!" she exclaimed.

I knew she was already planning on the lavish dresses and expensive jewellery she would buy.

Sarah smiled, patting Fiona's hair. "We'll make sure to find the perfect attire. She deserves to impress the Alpha's children and secure a great match."

As they left, Beta Liam turned to me, his smile transforming into a scowl. "And as for you, freak…” He spat the word, “The consequences of disgracing this family won't go unpunished."

His eyes narrowed. "After the ceremony, fly back here and pack up."

With that, he turned and stormed out, leaving me in pain and confusion.

Pack? Where was I going? What did he have planned? Fear clawed at my chest as different scenarios rampaged through my head.

I left the store room, preparing myself for the mating season. I don't want to look too much like a maid by the time Clinton announces me as his mate, but my tattered and overly patched dress mirrors my shattered dignity.

I looked worse than a slave.

The market was busy with people laughing and shopping for dresses. It was the mating ceremony, so their excitement was valid. I walked through the stalls, and people stared at me with disgust. Some made faces, others whispered insults.

A vendor even spat at my feet, disgust all over her face.

I ignored them. In a few hours, I'd be publicly mated to Clinton, and all this torture would stop. I grinned at that thought.

"Freak," someone whispered.

At the seamstress' stall, I bought a needle and thread, but instead of handing it to me, the seamstress threw the items at me like I was dirty.

She didn't even let me pay. As if touching me or anything from me would taint her.

Just as I bent over to search for the needle, I felt that pull again. The familiar scent that took over me last night, I could sense it. I was happy that Clinton, my mate, was nearby.

My wolf was restless, and I couldn't help but smile. Could it be? Was he searching for me, too?

I followed the scent, running through the stalls but being careful enough not to bump into someone.

As I took a quick turn, I spotted Clinton from afar, but he wasn't alone. A girl clung to his arm, and they went into an abandoned tavern.

I slowed down my pace.

Who was she?

As I drew closer, the girl's face became clearer.

Fiona?

Why was Clinton with Fiona? I'd never seen them in the same space before, and according to her, he wasn't her type of man.

She once told me she preferred rugged men who could manhandle her. Whatever that means.

Out of curiosity, I followed them to the tavern and peeped through a cracked window.

The scene inside drained all the blood in my skin. Clinton and Fiona were completely naked on a broken bed. Fiona was riding him, and Clinton was enjoying it.

My heart sank. This couldn't be. Clinton was my mate. He would never cheat. Doesn't he feel my wolf? That I'm here?

But the truth stared me in the face.

It was like time had stopped, I was unable to move or look away. All of a sudden, Fiona's eyes snapped toward the window, and a sly smile spread across her face.

She knew I was watching.

Fiona's eyes never left mine as she increased her speed and leaned forward, her lips brushing against Clinton's ear while his groans filled the air.

Clinton's hands grasped Fiona's hips, pulling her deeper into him. Her smile grew wider as she moaned his name out loud.

The wolf within me screamed in anguish as if ripped apart by Fiona's actions.

She looked me dead in the eye and mouthed a single, taunting word:

"Mine.”