Page 23 of The Alpha Wolf's Bullied Bride

***

I stand in the foyer of the Lycoan house, marveling at the creamy drapes covering the windows as I try swallowing the pill of what’s to come next.

Even after spending the day with Eloise and discussing the marriage ceremony that will take place this weekend, I still feel the need to pinch myself out of this mess.

The last time I’d been in this house was before I turned eighteen, just before I discovered that I was wolf-less. Theyounger me had no comprehension of the concept of being ostracized. I was an innocent girl with hopes and dreams.

Many of which involved Flynn Lycoan.

Now, I’m here because I’m about to marry the male werewolf who despicably humiliated me in front of other members of the pack, single-handedly causing this numbness I’ve become accustomed to. A numbness that won’t let me see past the awful treatment I've endured.

Hugging my arms over my chest, I observe the painting hanging over the fireplace, a smile growing on my face. It’s a simple painting of the Zafra town square that boasts the trader’s market. The families who live around the vegetation area each contribute an essential necessity for survival in the town. Their oil-painted figures appear only as silhouettes in the painting, and it’s not really what the painting depicts that has me smiling and drifting off into a fond memory.

I was probably about sixteen when the Sinclair family delivered the painting ordered by the ex-Alpha, Silas. Flynn’s father ordered it in his late son’s name—a token to keep his memory alive, since Flinch Lycoan adored this particular spot in the market. They’d decided to celebrate with lunch, and asked my brother and me to stay.

I’d only been at the Lycoan house because of Miles, who was visiting his best friend. I was roped into helping the cook in the kitchen, when a freak accident ended with stitches in the hand I cut with a sharp knife.

It was Flynn who stitched me up. In hindsight, I can’t picture him being as caring as he was back then, fussing over the accident and scolding the cook for expecting me to help while I was a guest. It was that very moment of kindness that sparked something inside my heart. A flicker of Flynn’s endearing,compassionate nature that had me watching him with starry eyes as he fixed my hand with sutures and ointment.

I sigh forlornly; the memory that was once dear to my heart has now become a figment of my imagination, and somehow, I still can’t part with it.

The clearing of a throat beside me jolts me from my thoughts, and I gasp when I glance to my right to find Flynn standing there with his arms folded, staring at the painting.

“You remember when this was delivered…?” he asks softly, not taking his eyes off the painting.

I gulp, turning back to the painting to stare intently. “Yes. I was here.”

“You cut your hand that day,” he says matter-of-factly.

I respond with a gulp, trying my best not to mistake his recollection as anything more than him trying to be amicable. From my periphery, I catch him glancing at me, but remain glued to the painting.

“I did. But I lived,” I say without emotion.

“I’m glad you did.”

The softness in his voice prompts me to turn with a frown when I meet his eyes. Golden hues that have softened noticeably stare at me, his lips parting as if he’s about to say something. My heart skips a beat as the tiniest flicker of hope is sparked.

Until he suddenly drops his head and groans irritably, lifting a hand to press at his temples. His brows furrow tightly when he looks up again, that brutal coldness washing over his face.

He says nothing when he spins on his heel and storms out through the front door. I hold my breath, anticipating the thunderous slam of the door, when my best friend appears.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she observes with a wary frown as she steps into the main house and gently closes the door behind her.

I let out the breath I’d been holding, relief washing over me, only because I no longer feel so alone. That’s the reason I called Valerie over.

I can hardly get through this masquerade by myself. I rush to her, flinging my arms over her for a much-needed hug.

“Okay, now you have me genuinely concerned,” Valerie chuckles nervously as she steps back, scanning my face with narrowed eyes.

“I need your help, Val,” I whisper, my bottom lip trembling as if I’m on the verge of tears. I’m about to continue when Eloise comes back with her wedding dress.

“Here it is,” she holds the dress up with a proud smile. “I had it altered, now all that’s left is for you to try it on.”

***

“What was that all about?” Valerie asks as we head to my cabin after the dress-fitting in the Lycoan house.

“I don’t think I can go through with this, Val,” I sigh, clutching tighter to her arm as we enter the woods.

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