Page 3 of Cruel Alpha: Season One

“It is in the North,” I shoot back, tightening my arms over my chest as my composure slips.

Aunt Geneva’s breathing quickens, having been called out on her hypocrisy. “I know that’s more of an Eastern practice, but…”

“Do you recall your reaction when Maude McArthur raised the topic at her husband’s retirement celebration? You said, and I quote,‘Those filthy Eastern mutts and their immoral practices will be the death of all that is right and proper within the Dynasty.’End quote,” I add, just to be obnoxious before driving my point home.“Yet, if I’m reading the room correctly, you’d both willingly hand me over to our alpha, to be one of hismanymates, simply because he has the right title before his name?”

Aunt Geneva blinks her dark eyes in my direction. I’m torn between feeling as though I’ve said too much and feeling as though I’ve said too little.

“I only fear you’re wasting your life away, taking on a cause that will take more from you than it gives,” she says. “Consuming yourself with the concerns of low-society, it’s beneath you, Annalise. We’re a family many associate with nobility.”

“You’re not a Breedlove,” I snap. “That was my father’s name, and you have no right using his heritage as a conversation piece.”

Immediately, I regret being so harsh, but I won’t take back what I’ve said because it’s all true. Outside of my parents’ marriage, my aunt and uncle have no relation to this noble bloodline they so often speak of.

Aunt Geneva lowers her head, expressing uncharacteristic humility.

“You’re right,” she says. “I should have chosen my words more carefully. I only meant to say that I wish you held a higher regard for your status, the privilege you were born into. It shouldn’t be your curse, Annalise… it should be your blessing.”

Her words cut deep, because I’ve often viewed my privilege as just that. A curse. One more thing for people to consider whensumming up the total of who theythinkI am. Only, none would ever know I’m not precious about such things.

More often than not, the powers that be manipulate and twist this nobility my aunt has always coveted. They reshape it into something vile and ugly, something far removed from what it was ever meant to be.

“The meeting with Alpha Caspian is to discuss my plea to lift the archaic traditions currently stunting our growth, and to mend the broken fences between the other existing clans. Nothing more,” I state firmly, and what follows is complete silence.

Tomorrow, when I return home from visiting the High Chamber with only good news, I’ll accept my aunt and uncle’s apologies with grace.

Because, whether they like it or not, they will owe me at least that.

2

Heaven or Hell

Annalise

Okay,Annalise, relax. What’s the worst thing that could happen?

As I ask myself that question, I consider possible outcomes of tonight’s meeting. At the very least, being invited here was an attempt to pacify me, to shut me up. But no matter what happens next, my foot is in the door, and I’ve gotten someone’s attention.

Trembling with anticipation, I breathe deep and look around. It isn’t lost on me that I’m likely one of the few in my generationwho will ever see the inside of this magnificent structure. Sure, we lay eyes on it every day—it would be impossiblenotto—but this, walking these very passages, is all a bit surreal.

Our people reside in the shadow of this formidable edifice, built atop a hill at the center of New Eden centuries ago. It serves as a constant reminder of the order within the clan—those in power being high and mighty, all others cowering at their feet. Rich, dark panels adorn the walls, and my eyes are drawn higher, to macabre chandeliers that dangle from thick beams. The fine details are prominent against the backdrop of a black-painted ceiling and tall windows. Velvet curtains pool in gentle heaps on the floor, adding to the dramatic aesthetic. Collectively, the formal setting leaves me feeling a bit intimidated, but perhaps that was the intent of the administration’s decorators—to make sure all who step foot inside this structure remain ever-aware of their insignificance.

My gaze shifts down to my cargo pants and tank top, and I can’t help but wonder if my aunt was right. While a gown would have definitely been way over-the-top, I’m starting to think I could’ve gone with an option that’s a bit less casual.

Don’t overthink it. You’re here to discuss your proposal, and you’re dressed the part. Relax.

The rhythmic thudding of my heart slows just slightly, but before it fully settles…

“Ms. Breedlove?”

A breath hitches in my throat when my name is spoken off to the left. Lost in thought, I ignored the sound of encroaching footsteps that preceded the voice. Now, as I hurry to my feet, I’m awkward when extending a hand in greeting.

“Y-yes, I’m Annalise Breedlove,” I stammer.

The gentleman in white stands before me, staring at my hand where it lingers in the air. He eventually reciprocates thegesture, but I’m left with the feeling he’s only done so to avoid making things evenmoreawkward.

“Archibald Payne,” he says, his eyes narrowing into small slits.

“Pleasure meeting you,” I lie. In truth, his stoicism is something I could have lived without.

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