Page 4 of The Alpha's Arranged Mate

Lyrie took a calm and measured breath in the silence that followed that statement. Part of her had been wondering, ever since she’d arrived, exactly what any of this had to do with her… and now she had her answer. “I see,” she said faintly, once she trusted her voice enough to speak.

“There’s no other way, Lyrie,” Darion said, and she could hear the regret in his voice. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, though, and she kept her gaze straight ahead, grateful in that moment for how well he’d taught her to keep her emotions under wraps. “Believe me, I’ve considered every alternative. The only option from their pack is the Alpha, which means it has to be someone of an equivalent rank from our pack. You’re the closest thing I have to a daughter, Lyrie. My heir, my successor, my protege. It can only be you.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She’d never forgive herself if she allowed her composure to break in front of her Alpha and the Council. The elderly woman who’d spoken cleared her throat softly and rose to her feet, and on that unspoken signal the rest of the Councilors rose too. One by one, they left the room, leaving Lyrie and Darion to speak in private. Then, and only then, did Lyrie let out the breath she’d been holding, feeling hot tears prickling at her eyelids.

“I wouldn’t ask this if there was any other way.”

“You know what you’re asking of me.” She hated how high her voice sounded, how childish—she struggled to compose herself, to breathe. “To pledge myself to a stranger. To leave my path to walk at his side instead. To lead his people. To become part of a pack that sounds—utterly antithetical to everything we value.”

“I know.”

“Can I say no?” She forced herself to look at him, then, across the table that lay between them. It was only a few feet long, but he felt as far away from her as he had when he’d first gone through the portal to Earth and left her behind.

“Of course you can. I won’t force you to do this, Lyrie. You can refuse.” But the hesitation on his face made her clench her jaw.

“And what happens if I do refuse? If I return to relieve Westly of his duties tomorrow, and continue as Alpha here?”

“If the Rite of Harmony is no option,” Darion said slowly, “then we will resort to the Blood Rite of Unity.”

Lyrie let herself consider that, and the coldness that filled her was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. “Then this is no choice at all,” she said. For just a moment, she let her sentimental side win, and a faint, helpless smile curved her lips upwards. Then she was on her feet, forcing that down as she strode to the door to call the Councilors back into the room.

“And how has the discussion—”

“I’ll do it,” Lyrie said abruptly, cutting the Councilor off mid-sentence. The woman looked surprised for maybe half a second before her expression was serene again. Lyrie envied the Councilors’ mastery of their own faces. They controlled themselves so well that she almost believed they didn’t have any feelings to hide in the first place. “The Rite of Harmony. I’ll match with the Alpha. Whatever it takes—I’ll do my duty. I always have.”

“This is heartening news for us all,” another Councilor put in, a grave little smile on his face. “I must commend you, Alpha Lyrie, on your commitment to the protection of this world. Halforst, not to mention Kurivon, owes you a great debt.”

“As do we all,” Darion said, his voice level. Lyrie was probably the only person in the room who knew how much effort went into maintaining that calm exterior.

“And it may well be a fortuitous match,” a younger Councilor said, a man who’d been shifting a little uncomfortably in his seat since the subject of the arranged match had been broached. “There are many stories, after all, of soulmates finding one another this way—”

“Well, I won’t hold my breath,” Lyrie said wryly, and a polite little laugh went up among the Councilors. She didn’t care what a bunch of stupid old love songs had to say on the matter. Whoever this Alpha was, he wasn’t her soulmate. He simply couldn’t be. Darion was the greatest man she’d ever known—he was everything she’d ever aspired to be, her mentor and her leader. If his issues with this other Alpha ran so deep that this was the only way of averting a war between the packs, how could Lyrie feel anything for him but hatred?

But if this was what Darion needed her to do, then she’d find a way. She had to.

Chapter 3 - Reeve

Enough time passed following the disastrous meeting with Darion’s representatives that Reeve had almost convinced himself he’d gotten away with walking out like that. But when he walked into his office to find a familiar-looking envelope on his desk one morning, he felt his heart sink into his toes. That seal could only mean one thing… a meeting of the Alpha Council. Anunscheduledmeeting, more to the point, given that their regular meeting had only been a few days ago. For one wild moment, he considered tossing the letter over the edge of the balcony and letting the waves take it. Why not? It wasn’t like he was eager to go to a meeting that was clearly going to be mostly about him getting yelled at for a conflict that wasn’t his damned fault. And they couldn’t prove that he’d ever actually received the invitation…

He sighed and ripped it open, scanning the familiar lines of text. Council meeting at the old library. Darion, of course, would not be in attendance. Reeve hadn’t actually set eyes on his brother for over than a month now. Was he even still here on Kurivon? Since they’d pushed back the demons, the portal had been active again—Darion could very well be back in Halforst. But something told him that his brother wasn’t the kind of Alpha who’d make that kind of a retreat if he could help it.

He spent the day in a bad mood, holed up in his office trying to put a dent in the utter onslaught of work that had fallen by the wayside while he tried to get things up and running here on Kurivon. Unlike the other Alphas, he had more going on than just the mission here on the island—there was a whole enormous company back on the mainland that needed his input, no matter how much he’d tried to divest his responsibilities and delegate in the leadup to this project. It all would have been a lot easier if they’d actually been making the kind of progress he’d predicted was possible, but Darion had seen to that, hadn’t he? By the time the sun was heading for the horizon, Reeve was utterly burned out. As much as he didn’t want to see his brother, part of him was almost hoping he’d be at the meeting that night. Stressed as he was, it wouldn’t take much for him to snap like a twig, and right now the satisfaction of screaming in his brother’s face almost seemed like it would be worth the catastrophic fallout.

He rowed himself over to the mainland. He’d taken to using a little rowboat as a tender, preferring it to the flashier models that had come with the yacht. The physical exertion of rowing was good for him, he suspected—it calmed him down, making the journey from yacht to shore a time of peaceful reflection. Besides, the horrified looks he got from Darion’s wolves when he came roaring up to the dock in a speedboat had begun to grate on his nerves. As he rowed, he scanned the darkening horizon, gaze lingering on the as-yet unexplored islands that made up the archipelago. Kurivon was the name of the largest central island, but it was also the name of the archipelago, and one day they’d venture out to those smaller islands to stamp out the demon threat there, too. It wouldn’t be any time soon though, would it? Not if Darion had anything to do with it.

He stalked past the construction site and into the trees, doing his best not to look too closely at the grindingly slow progress. The Council always met in the old library, which lay north of the construction site. It was the only building that had survived from the days of the previous settlement here on Kurivon, and as well as hosting an impressive archive of material about demon fighting, it had become something of a sentimental place for the Alphas who’d first settled the island. Even with all the unpleasantness with Darion, Reeve was still looking forward to seeing his friends. They’d seen a lot less of each other lately, with the other three working hard to prepare their respective packs to come through the portal and settle on the island.

It was Renfrey who greeted him, looking more tired than usual—which was something, given that along with leading the settlement, the man was also the father of twins. Reeve had expected bristling frustration from the leader, or at least from one of the other Alphas, but to his surprise all five of them greeted him quite pleasantly. Suspicion rising, he took his accustomed seat at the table they usually used for these meetings. The old library would still need a lot of repair work before it was back in working order, which meant that, for now at least, it was just the six of them who had access.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” Renfrey said once the five of them were seated.

“No Darion, huh? I’m shocked.” Reeve couldn’t help himself. It was an old habit, making jokes to vent his frustration. His father had always told him it was a sign of immaturity, that he’d grow out of it one day, but he was approaching forty and showing no signs of stopping. Torren hid a laugh behind his hand, but Belmont and Blaine just exchanged patient, weary glances that made Reeve feel about five years old.

“No,” Renfrey said after a pause. “No, Darion’s the subject of the meeting, I’m afraid.”

This was new. Reeve leaned forward, his interest thoroughly piqued. The Council had been frustratingly diplomatic about the conflict between him and his twin brother—was that about to change? Were they taking his side? It was almost too much to hope for.

“I’m worried about the conflict between your packs,” Renfrey pressed on. Reeve settled back in his chair, grimacing. “That’s nothing new, I know, but it bears repeating. We’d expected there to be a period of adjustment, of course. It was part of the strategy to start with just these two packs before bringing the others through once the dust had settled. But the dust isn’t settling, Reeve. If anything, there’s more in the air than ever.”

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