Page 6 of Claimed By the Alpha Wolves

That can’t be too hard, can it?

THREE

Faye

I jump when there’s a knock at the door.Who the hell would be visiting me?Apparently, my plan to go unnoticed is already failing after barely an hour of being at The Selection. The person knocking doesn’t wait for me to invite them in before they push the door open, letting in the sounds from the hallway.

“Good evening, miss,” a man says, holding out a big white box.

I stare in confusion. He’s obviously a servant in the household, a beta shifter, but what has he brought me and why? My anxiety creeps up as a heavy weight settles in my stomach.

“Faye Hallow?” And I get the sense he’s trying to nudge me since I haven’t responded.

“Yes,” I respond, but the word comes out barely above a whisper.

“We were informed by your alpha, Charles, some time ago that you’d be requiring a full wardrobe to properly represent your pack. He, generously, sponsored your entire wardrobe for the duration of your stay at The Selection in hopes of… making you more desirable to the other alphas. This is your attire for the event this evening. The rest of your new outfits will be deliveredto your room before nightfall,” he says, reaching forward and taking the lid off the box.

He reveals a sparkling emerald green dress and a matching mask. It’s shiny and probably pretty, but I’ve never owned a dress, so I wouldn’t begin to know if it really is. He’s watching me, waiting for a response, but I don’t know what to say. My eyes skip past him, looking out into the hallway, where other omegas are still finding their rooms and chatting with one another.

Would anyone notice me if I just disappeared?

When my eyes flit back to the servant’s eyes, he’s frowning, his dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. I tense, knowing the frown is because of me, but having no idea why. I’ve been away from society for so many years, alone in my cabin, that I’ve forgotten how to act, forgotten all social norms, and that realization only deepens my anxiety over what will be coming after this.

Maybe I can just run? I can shift, race through the woods, and find my way back home. Can’t I?My eyes dart back to the hall, and my hands curl into fists.

As if reading my mind, he says in a low voice, “I understand that, as an omega, your instincts might be telling you to run. It’s highly inadvisable. The Selection has a specific committee dedicated to ensuring all eligible omegas are present for the event. No matter where you go, they’ll find you, and they’ll drag you back.”

I shiver, remembering how the alpha of my pack had chased me through the woods with his men and then tossed me over his shoulder like I was nothing. Would a group of shifters who don’t know me or my background be gentler? I doubt it. Iseriouslydoubt it.

“You should also know that it’srequiredthat every omega attends each event during The Selection. Anyone who fails to show up for an event will be brought to the event by force.Our goal here is to have every girl leave with at least one mate. Although it is common for alphas to return to The Selection, sometimes several times, we know that’s not in the best interest of the women. Leaving an omega to go into heat on her own, to be mated by an assigned pack member, with protection, until she can return to The Selection next year is not preferable.” He says all of this with a stern voice of warning, like he’s aware of just how little I know about all of this. “The first event is only a short time away. You’ll know it’s occurring when the bell rings, so you’ll need to hurry and get ready.”

This sounds like a fun place to be.

“Okay,” I say, letting my gaze fall to the ground.

More than anything, I just want this guy to leave my room. I just want to sit alone with my thoughts until I’m forced to take another step forward in this nightmare.Can’t I have even a few minutes of peace?

He stares for me a moment longer, sets the box on my bed, then turns on his heel, shutting the door behind him. I’ve no more than fallen back onto the bed, throwing the box with the gown to the side, when there’s another knock on the door.

You have to be kidding me.The servant probably came back to school me again, and I can’t stand the thought of talking to him. My social battery is already done. My body is all over the place with the new people and new things. I just want to crawl into the corner of my cabin, the warm spot near the fireplace, and sleep forever.

The knock comes again.

“Okay,” I say, but I can’t seem to move. Can’t seem to face one more person and one more thing.

There’s another knock. This time louder, which pisses me off. But at least my anger is enough to get me to stand up and start toward the door.

“I said, okay!” I grumble, swinging the door open. “I’m not going to?—”

“Faye.” The soft voice is familiar, like a dream I’ve had too many times before. Only, it doesn’t belong to someone from my dreams.

“Addilyn?” I say her name in shock.

Addilyn stands in front of me, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. Her long brown hair has been braided intricately on her head, drawing attention to the soft lines of her jaw, and her big hazel eyes. Her short legs peek out from a sparkling pink dress that’s obviously been tailored to fit her small frame.

My brain rushes through a montage of memories—from us playing in the creek together to her giving me a princess makeover. Addilyn was my closest friend in the village before Miles died. She stood at my side when we buried both my grandfather and my grandmother. Yet, when I lost my brother… it was too much. Talking to people. Being near them. Just too much. Even when it came to Addilyn. Even though she was one of the few people who believed me about Kurt.

My throat feels thick. Conflicting feelings rise up inside of me. I abandoned her. I was not a good friend to her. She has every right to be angry with me, to want nothing to do with me.

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