Page 86 of The Alpha's Bullied Rejected Mate
Enough to light something small and trembling inside him like the first spark of fire igniting a flame.
So he had spent the last two nights preparing for this. Sneaking glances at the more secluded gardens, the hidden pockets of beauty in the camp.
And tonight—if all went right—he would give her a good night.
Not to impress her.
Not to earn her.
But to say:
I’m still here. And I’m not walking away this time.
Marcus ran his fingers through his hair as he looked over the setup for the umpteenth time. He let out a slow breath. The moon rose higher above, and its thin, silver light shone through.
Twenty minutes.
He only had that much time before he had to get Athena.
Twenty minutes. And everything still seemed like it wasn’t ready.
“Shit,” Marcus grunted to himself. He nervously ruffled his hair again and paced around the small clearing he had transformed into a unique dinner location.
The languid glow of fireflies pulsed in a soothing, fluttering motion as they moved through the grass. Just long enough to steady himself, Marcus took a moment to observe them. He let out a sharp exhale.
All right, fine. He was trying to impress her. There was no point in doing it any other way. Because after everything they had been through, they were here now, and he wanted her to know, without a single doubt, that she mattered to him, and iftonight was all he had, he wanted to make sure it was a night she would absolutely adore.
He checked the time again.
Fifteen minutes.
Marcus had thought long and hard about what to do for their first ‘real date’.
He wanted it to be intentional, soft, gentle. Something that would not overwhelm her but would still turn out amazing.
He didn’t want to rush her by making it romantic, and he didn’t want to pressure her into feeling more than she was ready to feel. However, he did want her to know that she was worth the effort. Worth slowing down for. Worth doing any and everything for.
So, he set up a small space outdoors, just a little beyond the main living quarters. It was far enough to feel private, yet close enough to keep her relaxed.
There was an old wooden fence surrounding the clearing, and wild vines curled thickly around and sparsely atop it, hinting at the beautiful line that separated the two areas.
The moon peeked through the gaps in the leaves above, as if it were quietly agreeing with the scene. There were glass jars with candles in them all over the room, and the flames were soft and steady. Marcus had hung them up the exact same way that the Moon Ridge Pack used to, during their annual celebrations—the Feast of the First Bloom.
To anyone else, the setting might have seemed quaint. But to him, this was a sacred resurrection.
Because this wasn’t just a dinner.
It was theirs.
The Feast of the First Bloom had always been more than a feast. In the Moon Ridge Pack, it was a festival. And on that day, the entire village lit up.
Songs. Dances. Competitions. Displays. Drinking and finally, Feasting. It was noisy, jubilant, messy, and full.
But Marcus had always waited for the part that came after late at night.
When the crowds quieted. When he could slip away unnoticed, carrying food in a cloth bundle and a goblet of smuggled wine, always for two.
Far from where the living quarters had been, he would meet Athena at the edge of the woods. No one ever noticed, and he never told anyone. Because to him, the most significant part of the celebration was those moments—the two of them eating together, laughing and chatting away, and occasionally daring to touch hands under the glow of the moonlight.
