CHAPTER 4: A GOOD GIRL

ALEXANDER

The color drained from my brother’s wife’s face so fast it was as if someone had pulled the blood straight from her veins. Her posture stiffened, her breath caught just enough for me to notice, and guilt settled deep in my chest.

But I stepped forward anyway. Stopping before her, I lowered my head and brought my fist to my chest in salute before placing the flowers at her feet--white night-blooms braided with silver thread, the traditional offering to a future Luna.

Behind me, the hall fell quieter, attention narrowing to this moment, and I straightened and signaled my men.

They moved at once, bringing forward the next gift and laying it carefully beside the flowers--jewelry and deeds as symbols of loyalty and protection. They were meant to honor and welcome her. For a moment, it seemed she wasn’t sure what to do, and Cyra leaned to her ear, causing her to momentarily take her eyes off me before looking at me again and nodding in acknowledgement, just as she was expected to.

She tried to smile at me, but it faltered, and I didn’t miss the way her throat worked as though my presence alone was too much. Her fingers were also curling into the fabric of her dress like someone bracing for impact, and the question came crashing back to me again.

What was really going on? I held her gaze a second longer than protocol demanded, searching her face for answers. And all I found was something that resembled fear… something that had no place on a wedding night.

My mind dragged me back weeks. Greyson came to me late one night, and I had never seen my brother look so broken. His confession that he couldn't conceive had shattered me for him.

He had gone to a seer in secret, and with that truth came the unspoken threat hanging over every Alpha’s head. An Alpha who could not produce an heir could not keep his throne. He would be forced to step down, and that alone would have destroyed him.

My brother was born to lead our people, and he had looked at me like a man already drowning as he asked me to be the one to save him. He asked me to sleep with his wife and help give him an heir in blood if not in name.

It was a huge ask, one that had left me reeling. If my brother couldn’t lead our people, that meant I’d have to lead, and I had no desire to be Alpha. The role belonged to Greyson, and losing it would have killed something inside him that would never heal. I would do anything for my brother. So I had agreed on the condition that his wife was willing.

Greyson had sworn she was. He had said he had explained everything, that she understood, and that she had given her consent. But the woman sitting before me now did not appear to be someone who had agreed to anything. She had flinched at the sight of me. And that haunted me.

Guilt coiled tight in my chest as I straightened, stepping back into my place. If she hadn’t consented, if she hadn’t known… then I was standing at the edge of something unforgivable.

And yet, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. She was beautiful, all of her, and my heart betrayed me, racing despite my effort to calm it as our eyes met again. Taking her hand, I placed a gentle kiss atop it and stepped back.

I didn’t miss the tremor that ran through her the instant our skin met, and it stayed with me as I turned away while pack members lined up with their gifts for their future Luna.

I signaled a waiter and took a glass just as my father’s voice came from behind me. Turning to him, his face was glowing with pride. Tonight was everything he had worked toward, his promise to Katarina’s father finally kept. I congratulated him, and he clasped my shoulder, thanking me before asking if he could have a word.

“Of course,” I said, stepping aside with him. He told me he had a favor to ask, and I agreed before he even finished. I always did. But his request caught me off guard.

He asked me to help my brother protect Katarina. Surely he didn’t believe Greyson was incapable of protecting his own wife. I was about to ask when he continued to clarify his point. He said he didn’t mean protection in the literal sense. He meant standing with them, supporting them.

Greyson was the first Alpha to marry an omega. And even if the pack appeared to accept it, my father knew better. Outsiders would talk. And other packs would challenge it.

Even within our walls, there would be whispers, judgments, and quiet disrespect. Greyson would never complain. He wasn’t the type to admit he was struggling, and Father wanted me there to hold what my brother wouldn't admit was shaking.

I told him yes without hesitation, and he turned, looking toward Katarina seated across the hall with a fond smile. “She’s a good girl,” he said before adding that she would give our family fine heirs.

I nodded in agreement. My father had once asked me what I thought of Katarina, of her being an omega, and I had told him the truth. I didn’t care. Rank mattered for order, yes, but it had never defined a person to me.

I had never abused omegas, never looked down on them, and had no desire to. To me, they were people born with the wrong blood through no fault of their own. It was one of many reasons I never wanted the throne.

Unlike my brother, who had needed convincing, I would have taken Katarina as she was without hesitation, and that thought unsettled me now. I needed a drink, a strong one too, to help me stop lusting over my brother’s wife.

Speaking of which, I spotted Greyson rising from his seat and leaving the hall, and asked my father to excuse me so I could go after him and find out what was going on.

****

KATARINA

I watched Greyson leave the hall, his broad back disappearing through the doors without so much as a glance in my direction. The noise around me swelled, but it all felt distant and muffled, as if I were sinking underwater.

I was exhausted, and all I wanted was somewhere quiet and dark. Somewhere, I could curl into myself and disappear for a moment. But that wasn’t going to happen, not ever again.

I had felt Alexander’s gaze on me earlier, his perverted touch, and my stomach clenched. It was only a matter of time before I would be taken back to the room and he would come for what he had been promised, what had been decided for me without my consent. I couldn’t do this.

Every time someone stepped forward, kneeling to place a gift at my feet, welcoming me as their future Luna, my stomach twisted violently. Their smiles felt like knives, and their blessings felt like chains. My thoughts spiraled, tumbling over one another until Cyra’s voice cut through the fog.

“Are you alright? You’re shaking,” she added.

I realized then that my hands were clenched in my lap despite my efforts to stay still. I forced myself to straighten, lifting my chin. “I’m fine.” I could feel her stare before she said something that made my breath hitch.

“Alpha men are… big,” she began. “But you’ll get used to it in no time.”

I thought I’d misheard her for a moment. Why would she say that? She didn’t know me well enough to speak to me like that. My skin prickled as I turned to look at her, and for the first time since meeting her, her eyes unsettled me. They weren’t kind like before, but they weren’t cruel either. They were just… sharp. Like she was measuring something I didn’t understand.

“Am I allowed to take a bathroom break?” I asked quickly, needing to get away before my composure shattered. “Of course,” she replied. “You are not a prisoner here, LUNA.” She emphasized the word “Luna,” and something about the way she said it made my stomach churn, but I was too exhausted to untangle her meaning.

Maybe she was jealous, like the others. Perhaps she resented me and was forced to take this role. Whatever it was, I couldn’t deal with it now.

“I will go with you,” she added, already starting to rise, but I stopped her.

“I’ll be fine.” I stood before she could insist and left the hall, my spine straight out of sheer will. But with every step away from the noise, the lights, and the eyes, my composure cracked a little more. My breathing quickened, and my steps sped up, the corridor blurring as the door to the suite came into view.

I reached for the handle, but before I could touch it, a voice called out behind me--my aunt’s voice. And just like that, the last thread holding me together snapped.