Page 18 of The Alpha's Arranged Mate

“No?”

But she bit her lip, eyes flicking up towards the docks, where the little boat’s pilot was waving cheerfully to them in the electric light. And just like that, the conversation was over. He glanced at her a few times as the ship roared across the quiet water, but her gaze was on the horizon and he couldn’t bring herself to disturb her peace. Instead, he settled back into his seat and tried not to think about the warmth of her arm where it was almost, but not quite, touching his.

The last two weeks went far too quickly—and to his dismay, he saw less of Lyrie than he’d become accustomed to. After the Council meeting, she seemed to have decided to take it upon herself to oversee the training of his wolves, adding herself to the roster of experienced teachers who would be putting his soldiers through their paces. It meant that construction had slowed to a crawl again, but Reeve wasn’t worried about that. The whole purpose of this settlement was to hold back the demonic taint that afflicted the island. Besides, with the uptick in progress on the building, they could afford to take a few weeks off without worrying that the project would fall completely off track.

Part of him was very reluctant to head down to the training ring, demons or no. Ever since he’d left his pack, he’d preferred to train in solitude. Swimming for conditioning, solo drills to keep his hand in with his blade… he knew he could still hold his own against demons, so what was the point of involving other people in his training? The ring ran the risk of bringing back far too many unpleasant memories from his adolescence, those long, grueling days where he’d work until every muscle in his body was screaming for rest, only to be told again and again that he wasn’t good enough. Those memories were all haunted by the silent figure of Darion at his side, always a little stronger, a little faster, a little sharper. Their elders had told them how lucky they were to have each other to spar with, but he couldn’t imagine anything worse. Had he ever actually beaten Darion in a fight? Even when he did manage to scrape a victory in some exercise or another, his teachers would always scowl and find fault with the win, finding some way he’d manipulated the rules or outright cheated.

But with Lyrie spending all her time at the training grounds, he couldn’t justify staying holed up on the yacht all day. It was Lyrie who told him, in no uncertain terms, that he needed to make an appearance at least. An Alpha needed to be seen overseeing his pack’s training in the leadup to what could be a fairly major battle. And in the end, he was grateful he’d let her talk him into it.

The training ring hardly merited its name—it was just an area to the south of the beach that was clear of trees and relatively flat. Any vegetation that had once covered the area had been churned up by months of training, and the sandy soil was soft and well-trodden underfoot. Just shy of the treeline, he could see that a couple of canvas tents had been erected to store the training equipment. And lined up, listening attentively to their teacher with wooden weapons in hand, were the wolves from his pack.

Reeve hung back, not wanting to interrupt. It was Lyrie at the front of the group, her own shortsword in her hand as she demonstrated a simple drill he recognized from his own training—a dodge and parry, a useful defensive maneuver paired with a counter-attack that could be devastating to an enemy who wasn’t expecting it. Especially coming from a soldier as fast as Lyrie. He watched with his mouth hanging open as she demonstrated the form over and over, picking up speed each time until her blade was nothing more than a flash of silver. She was so sure-footed, so devastatingly powerful, so… so perfect. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen someone move that well. Watching her, he found himself thinking of his brother. Was Darion proud of his protege, this impressive young woman who was clearly well on her way to outclassing him as a warrior, if she hadn’t done so already? Or did he treat her the same way he’d always treated Reeve—withholding any indication of approval, driving her to be better no matter how much progress she made?

There it was again—that instinct to walk away, to find some work to bury himself in until he’d distracted himself from the awful, stomach-churning feeling of being back here. Reeve gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay where he was, and when the wolves broke up to practice what they’d been taught, he came forward to join them. Darion wasn’t here. There was no need to run away. And he found himself unexpectedly buoyed by spending some time with his pack. Lyrie had seen to it that volunteers from the other pack were spread throughout the group, and he smiled to hear snatches of the odd combination of languages that was starting to become the common tongue on Kurivon. Lyrie had been right, he realized, moving between sparring pairs and giving instruction where it was needed. Training together like this was drawing the wolves even closer together. Day by day, he was finding it harder and harder to pick which wolves were from which pack.

But why hadn’t it worked for him and Darion, he wondered? Training together had only driven the two of them further apart.

The last day of their three months together dawned cloudy and overcast. For a while, Reeve found his treacherous heart hoping that Lyrie wouldn’t mention it. He lay in bed with the morning light creeping over him, still half-drowsing, knowing he was indulging in an impossible fantasy but unwilling to put a stop to it just yet. What if she’d changed her mind, he wondered? Maybe she’d come to him and tell him that she liked it here, that she didn’t want to dissolve their partnership, that the two of them should keep living and working together like this. Maybe, some lower part of him whispered, they’d celebrate the way they had on that night they’d both promised to forget… he shook his head firmly and pulled himself out of bed. That was an irresponsible thought to entertain. That night had been a mistake and nothing more—repeating it would be an absolute disaster. They were both in agreement on that. Right?

He bumped into her in the hallway, already dressed in her training clothes. Spending as much time as she had been in the sun over the last two weeks, her light tan had deepened, and she almost seemed to glow as she greeted him with that faint trace of a smile he found so utterly bewitching. At least when she left he wouldn’t be tortured by these little meetings, he thought. It would be a relief not to have to fight the urge to slam her against the wall and kiss her twenty times a day.

“Have dinner with me tonight,” she said without preamble. “I have something I need to tell you. And we should discuss the dissolution,” she added, bringing the sudden, lurching hope in his chest crashing back down to earth. He agreed, and then she was gone.

He’d wanted to spend the day at the training ring, but he’d been pushing back about a dozen meetings that he was receiving increasingly less friendly daily reminders about. There was no need to spend yet another day pretending he wasn’t staring at Lyrie like a creepy old man, he told himself firmly. Better to start getting used to his solitude again. Still, he found his mind straying again and again to the thought of having dinner with her that night, and when he’d gotten through as many meetings as he could stomach, he made his way down to the kitchen to advise the cook that tonight was something of a special occasion.

The sky was clear again by nightfall, and the light of the full moon was so bright that the deck barely needed any additional illumination. She arrived on time, still in her training clothes, the intoxicating scent of her mingled with the sweat and sand on her skin. Reeve felt immediately overdressed, even in the casual linen shirt he’d chosen, but Lyrie had never demonstrated any indication she even noticed what clothing looked like. It was formal enough that they were human-shaped, and he didn’t miss the way she held her cutlery with the focused, deliberate effort of someone who was reaching for a rarely-used skill.

It was pleasant, sitting there with her under the stars. Less pleasant when they began to discuss the dissolution of their union, of course, but he was still glad to be there with her. The dissolution process was about as complicated as the ceremony itself had been, but thankfully required considerably less preparation—it boiled down to a long conversation with a panel of lorekeepers drawn from both packs, something he was surprised to learn had already been organizing.

“So that’s what you and Syrra have been working on,” he said, forcing a smile he didn’t feel. She nodded agreement, a flicker of something on her face.

“Among other things,” she said, uncharacteristically evasive. He took another mouthful of the freshly caught fish his chef had prepared for them before he raised the subject he’d been dwelling on all day.

“You said there was something you needed to tell me.” He was trying to keep his tone casual. He might have even succeeded—it was always hard to tell when Lyrie had seen through him.

“Did I?” She’d put a brick wall to shame, he thought, studying her impassive features.

“This morning, I mean.”

“Oh.” A long hesitation. “The dissolution.”

“Really? Because you said you had something you wanted to talk to me about, and then you said we should discuss the dissolution—”

“Did you have someone on your payroll writing every word of our conversation down?” she said, and he was surprised not only by the sudden flash of temper, but by the fact that she’d slipped an English word into the rebuke. “I just wanted to get things in order so we can both get back to our lives. That’s all.”

But it wasn’t, he thought, frowning down at his meal as an uneasy silence fell between them. They might have only had three months together, but it had been long enough for him to be able to tell when she was holding something back. He could feel his wolf growling with frustration, demanding that he pursue her, that he pin her down and make her tell him whatever it was she was keeping from him. But what would be the point of spoiling their last night together by forcing her to do something she didn’t want to do? Wasn’t that what had gotten them into this whole mess in the first place?

They finished their meal with stilted small talk before they said goodnight. Reeve returned to the room he’d shared with her just once, wishing he didn’t feel like he’d made yet another huge mistake.

Chapter 12 - Lyrie

The dissolution hearing took place at sunset. There was nothing in any of the traditions that called for that time specifically, but Lyrie and Syrra had agreed that it had a certain poetic resonance… and besides, it would leave the rest of the day free for training. Lyrie was more grateful than she could say for the blessing that was training. With a sword in her hand, every other worry in her life disappeared. Unfortunately, they didn’t go far. They were always lurking on the edge of the training ring, waiting for her to put her sword down and pick them back up again.

She’d arranged to meet Reeve at the library just before sunset, and he’d agreed with a coolness in his voice that made her feel like punching him. Ever since he’d started turning up at the training sessions, she’d been trying to work up the nerve to suggest that the two of them spar. But now, on the day when she finally had enough restless energy to challenge him, he was nowhere to be found. She seethed all morning and all afternoon, then quickly changed out of her sweaty training clothes and headed for the library. Before she went, she took one last glance over her shoulder at the wolves, sparring and training with one another. Two packs, one goal… despite all the rest of the turmoil in her heart, she couldn’t help but feel a fierce glow of pride.

She only hoped that the unity they’d found wouldn’t suffer with the announcement of the dissolution of her bond with Reeve.

He was waiting for her when she arrived, sitting on the porch steps with his legs outstretched and the warm glow of evening light dancing across his half-closed eyes. She’d given up on pretending he wasn’t the most handsome man she’d ever met, choosing instead to focus her energies on hiding the way the sight of him made her heart speed up and her whole body tingle. It didn’t matter how she felt, she told herself firmly. They just had to get through this dissolution process as quickly as possible, so she could deal with the next catastrophic problem on what was beginning to feel like an insurmountably long list.

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