Page 9 of The Alpha's Reclaimed Mate

“I wasn’t thinking,” I answered, as much as I didn’t want to give Mara the satisfaction of admitting I was at fault.

“You weren’t thinking? You can see it’s bandaged!” Oswald held up Mara’s hand. His touch was far gentler than any physical contact he’d ever had with me.

I shook my head and stepped away. “I’m sorry,” I repeated. “She shouldn’t have offered me her bad hand then.”

Mara balked while Oswald stood up and lunged at me. “This isn’t her fault; it’s yours! You should have known better! You stupid bitch!” he said, grabbing my shirt collar and then thrusting me back.

Our packmates, who had gathered around to watch the altercation, gasped. I scrambled to keep my composure, a cold sweat gripping me as the bystanders murmured among one another. I caught bits and pieces of what they were saying:

“She’s jealous of Mara!”

“How can she lead us if she can’t even show kindness to a wounded stranger?”

“What an immature Alpha Female…”

“I’ve never seen Alpha Moore get so violent,” a few murmured in disbelief. “That’s his fated mate. Is it okay to talk to her like that?”

But that didn’t seem to make a difference to Oswald. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I backed away while Oswald drilled holes in my forehead with his scorching stare. “I’m sorry,” I repeated weakly, but I wasn’t strong enough to stand there and take their judgment.

It was clear that no matter what happened, I was at fault. And maybe they were right. I shouldn’t have offered a handshake to Mara, seeing that one of her hands was bandaged. I shouldn’t have touched her or even talked to her. I should have known better since Oswald told me to mind my own business in the first place.

The crowd began to close in, suffocating me. The tears wobbling out of my eyes burned, and embarrassment welled up inside me, my red cheeks like a fog of humiliation. I only wanted to escape. Hiding my face from everyone, I turned and fled to the safest place I could think of—my room in the Lodge. At least there, I wouldn’t have to hear them gossiping about me.

When I got to my family’s suite, I ran past my mother sitting at the kitchen table without saying anything to her. I hoped she would just leave me be, but a few minutes after I’d sequestered myself in my room and sat on my bed, I heard her footsteps outside.

“Aria? Why aren’t you at your bookkeeping lesson with Mrs. Foster?”

My fists balled on my knees. “I’m not feeling well today,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady.

“That’s no excuse,” she said from behind my door. “You have obligations. You can’t just brush off your Alpha training because of an upset stomach or a headache. Do you think your duties will wait for you to feel better?”

The last thing I wanted was for my mother to criticize me right now. I didn’t know how else to explain my truancy besides telling the truth. “It’s not that. There was a fight between Oswald and me,” I confessed.

“Oh.” My mother hesitated, then grabbed the doorknob. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” There was no point fighting. I knew that I would have to confront her about it no matter how hot and frenzied my emotions were, and leaving it for her to hear what happened from somebody else would do me no favors.

The door opened to my mother entering my room. Her red hair, the same shade as mine, was pulled back in elegant braids, and a long blue dress rippled at her heels. She sat beside me, and I could feel the gravity of her gaze on me, but the moment I glanced up at her, she looked at the wall. I wondered if my sadness was more of an inconvenience to her than a real concern.

“So what was the fight about?” she asked.

I fidgeted with my hands, running my fingers over my bruised knuckles. “That new girl, Mara. I ran into her on my way to my lesson. She seemed pretty nice at first, and I thought she was really beautiful. I went to shake her hand, and I guess I accidentally hurt her.”

“You hurt her?”

“Her hand was already injured. She said I squeezed her hand too hard, but I barely even touched her,” I said, once more fighting emotion in my voice. I had been doing well until I’d broached the wrongness of the whole situation. “Oswald took her side immediately. He didn’t even want to hear me out. Why? Why would he believe her and not me? He doesn’t even know her.”

“So you hurt this girl who came to our pack looking for help?”

The accusation in my mother’s voice was the same as in everyone else’s. I bristled, hating feeling so volatile. “She overreacted!”

“Even so, you should have accepted your mistake with grace,” scorned my mother.

“Everyone was glaring at me, so I apologized and left. What else was I supposed to do?”

“You should have offered to help her and asked how you could make it up to her.”

“I already tried to help her last night. Oswald turned me down.”

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