Page 50 of Fated to the Enemy Alpha

Her obvious unconcern made my stomach clench, igniting my protective instincts all the more. “You don’t understand the danger Magnus poses. He’s ruthless. I can’t let you and Betty stay here, not when—”

“Let me?” Her voice rose with indignation. “Are you serious?” I could feel her anger radiating off her like heat. “For years, I’ve laid the groundwork for this, and now I’m ready to take action, and you want to whisk us away just because you found out Betty’s yours?”

I stepped closer, desperate to make her see sense. “I just want to keep you safe. I came here to persuade you to let me help you, even before I knew about Betty.”

“So, you think I’m helpless?” The fury in her eyes was palpable, like cold blue flames searing me.

“I never said you were helpless!” I shot back, but I could feel the tension building, a wall rising between us. “But I know Magnus—the lengths he’ll go to. My throat tightened, and I forced the words out. “Like he was with my mother.”

For a fleeting moment, Lina’s gaze softened, and I took the opportunity to press my point. “You must know that the moment you walk into that ceremony, you risk everything.”

And I meant it; the thought of her being hurt, of her and Betty being in danger, burned through me like poison.

“I know he’s dangerous—he’s held my mother for five years. But I won’t cower from him or leave my mother to rot.”

My heart sank, the weight of her mistrust pressing down on me all the harder. “You don’t have to do this alone,” I urged, softening my tone and pressing my hand to my own chest. “I want to protect you. You must feel that truth. If you feel even half of what I do right now, you know that.” I let the heat I felt show in my gaze, refusing to let go of her electric blue stare, trying to reach her with the strength of what I felt for her and Betty through our bond.

The atmosphere thickened, charged with our unspoken connection. I could feel it pulling us closer despite the chasm threatening to widen between us.

“I can take care of this,” she reiterated, her tone uncompromisingly firm.

“Lina.” Her name came out as a plea, frustration coloring my tone. In a last-ditch attempt, I said, “Then let me help you strategize. Let us coordinate our attacks together and lay back-up plans. We can pool our resources.” If I made this tactical and strategic, would she come around?

The silence stretched between us, and she simply said, “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” Then she turned and walked away as if we didn’t have a whole past, a kid together, and our mate bond pulling and wrapping itself around us.

But Lina’s resolve was immovable. I stood there watching her strong and slender figure walk away. But I was just as stubborn and determined as my mate, and whether she wanted it or not, I swore I’d fight for her and our family.

Chapter 19

Lina

The first notes of the bridal march echoed from the piano, announcing my arrival. Before me, elegantly dressed packmates filled the rows of Blackthorn Hall, their faces turned to me in expectation, smiles painted on their lips as I walked up the aisle.

Disorientation swept through me. It was as if I’d traveled back in time. For a terrible moment, I had the sense that the last five years of my life had never happened. But differences abounded, thankful tell-tales that time had, in fact, passed. And I grasped at each one of these to ground me.

With the edges of my pinkies beneath the bouquet of gardenias, I stroked the fabric of my gown. Gone was the beautiful gown adorned with the intricate lace and tulle my mother had chosen with loving intent. Instead, the modest white dress I wore was off the rack from a boutique in Manhattan, the fabric thin and unremarkable.

The familiar faces peering at me from both sides of the rows were a painful mix of wistfulness, like Mira and Eileen, who I had once been so close to in high school and who I’d first shifted with as a teen in the grounds of Silvermoon Villa. They didn’t look pitying like the last time I walked this path, more…resigned.

The newer faces like Ella and Brynn, both Blackthorn packmates who had offered me camaraderie and warmth in the past few weeks, smiled at me with more joy. They felt lucky that I was going to be their luna. Ella had, while she’d helped me dress earlier, thanked me for the part I’d played in persuading Magnus about the Omega Concord Program. She had omega friends in the pack, whose lives I’d directly altered. The genuine warmth toward me from many of the Blackthorns caused a bout of uncertainty to move through me as the charade I was caught up in confused me all the more.

As the pianist continued playing and I continued my walk up the aisle, my heart pounded with a mix of nerves and anxiety. Each step felt like a weight dragging me down.

As I neared the front of the room—and Magnus—all the warmth I’d garnered from my packmates dispersed. Magnus looked like he was attending a funeral, or perhaps a business deal had already gone south. The chill in his demeanor caused the panic already thrumming through me to balloon.

He suspects.

My gut churned.

The notes of the piano fell deathly silent as I stopped beside Magnus. As I faced him, that prickle of foreboding swelled.

He knows.

The same officiant as the last time we’d attempted this, Cyrus, a Blackthorn elder, began our ceremony. His voice rang with authority yet lacked any warmth. “Please be seated, packmates.”

Both packs’ elders sat in the front rows while other packmates filled six other rows.

Just beyond the windows, the perfectly manicured lawns were edged with the first buds of spring, a misleading reflection of new beginnings.

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