Chapter 4

The letters' content were not surprising, not in the least. So she wasted no time, sought out her best looking formal attires, laid them all on her bed. She had three. She didn’t have the luxury to neither afford good ones nor to spend time on picking the right one. Her hands pressed over the chiffon fabric, seagreen and decent for how it had aged in her closet.

She decided to walk all the way to his, the Alpha’s place. If she had consumed anything other than coffee in the morning, it would’ve been lying in her toilet pot. She had puked twice, bile instead of food. Walking might perhaps bring color back to her skin.

But she’d have to suffer with her questions all alone through out the journey. She had only walked a few miles, still on the road, when a car honked beside her. Not loud enough to scare her, she jumped anyhow. A chauffeur  stepped out. Human. She relaxed a little.

“Maám, if you’d accompany me to the villa please?” Smooth, not demure. He was no servant. Nor an errand boy. He had specific duties, she realized. And one of them now was to make sure she reached the Alpha’s place.

Goodess save her from her mouth, because she diidn’t think before she spoke.

“What did his majesty think? I was going to break out on a run wearing this dress? Never to be seen again...” She wasn’t angry. Nor was this driver’s fault. He was following orders. But he simply stood stoic. She sighed and went to open the back door. She need not ride shot gun, her anxiety had would increase ten fold simply by sitting right next to this man.

“Allow me.” He lept to the door, pulled the handle open while she stood few steps away. He waited for her to get inside before slamming it shut. Her thoughts weaved together a knotty yarn. She was sure this act of chivalry was to ascertain she didn’t detour to some other place, or told anyone else what had gone down the night before. They’d make sure she keep quiet. She also knew pack members, all of them, regardless of their age, color, ranks, knew about it. The Beta and Alpha couldn’t live with the fact that a rogue was privy to potential rumor.

She was hurt at the distrust the packs  placed in rogue wolf families. They were good enough to be protected, never to be part of the pack. This was good. She could hold onto the anger. Anger served her senses better. Still roiling inside the walls of her brain, the car halted. She got out, unwilling to let the man open her door again. Good going Vanessa, keep asserting yourself in the smallest of acts, and see where it lands you. Thought she. Her self talk had to break away like a twig. Because what she saw was not a villa. No. This was a castle.

Big black gates, automated she supposed. There were no guards to open and close it. The fence encasing a house modern, sleek with ancient remnants limited to the statues amidst the large, continuously growing vines. The big black wolf head arrested attention of those who visited it as a site. Sometimes the Alpha allowed Forest Department and Ancient Reservoir Committee to mark this place as a tourist site two weeks of every summer. She unconsciously recalled this fact, because if someone made their home and privacy a matter of amusement to maintain diplomacy would at least be a level headed person when it came to her, won’t he?

Dwelling time, apparently, was over. The gates opened and she marveled at everything even more. The long walk from outer gate to inner recesses didn’t register because the gardens, the small animals so happy doing what they did daily and squirrels running away to make way for her, stood in complete contrast to her inner turmoil. She couldn’t help but smile though. Some things, like nature, changed only to become more of themself.

Inside, white marble stretch wide open and vast to the hall, endless it seemed. Stairs curved on either side, like the leaf of an ornate flower. She longed to see what lay ahead, but was stopped short. For Mikhail descended the stairs to her left.

With ease of light feet predator, he reached her, smelling fresh and glad. If someone could smell glad that is. She realised his nose was more pointed than she had last night noted. His looks were not quite chiseled, no. Blunt. Edgy. And his thick neck peeked around out of his open collar, in blue button down, black jeans.

He seemed to take her in, the same way she had. An over view of glossy magazine. That brought her no close to comfort than it did when he, in his husky voice, declared. “Come up this way.”  No one could accuse him of rudeness, he was direct and crass about it. Thats all, she realized. He waited for her to nod. Then both of them climbed nearly twenty five stairs in utter silence until they reached the first floor. Thats when he spoke, “This part of the house is for personal gatherings alone. We could talk here. Forego all the disturbing events of last night. The office here has nice view.”

Nice view? His slight smile unnerved her. They were talking about views? It perplexed her to no end. Last night, he had castrated her out without reason. Hadn't listened to her whatsoever. Now that she was here, hoping to apologize and end this matter, he engaged her in a normal conversation? She couldn't think it was solely out of interest to form a friendship. Neither was his apology in disguise, because he didn't look guilty. Not yesterday, not today. She didn't think him capable of guilt.

Her internal puzzle sorting interrupts when he opens the office door. 

It looked, at least from here, like any other normal office until she stepped in. In the last twenty four hours, her world had tilted on its axis to the point where, now, for mere survival, she needed to find a new orbit. Standing here, arms at her side, the same silhouette from last night appeared in her line of vision. Except now it was a shadow. A very significant shadow.