Page 2 of The Alpha's Forced Bullied Mate

Another broken web of glowing white lightning threaded through the inky black, revealing a scene I had thought about too many times since it happened. What kind of leader would I be with that hanging over my head? Would I be strong enough to fight off a hoard of demons if they had an inkling of an idea of the crappy things I’d done?

“We cast our remorse into the fire,” Megara stated firmly, “so we may cleanse ourselves for the future.”

What happened to you after that day, Faye?

The truth was that I didn’t know how to talk about it. I didn’t know how to make up for it. For all I knew, that woman had disappeared into the supernatural underground and refused to ever surface. She could be married to someone by now—mated.

She could be dead.

My heart rattled. Another thunderous beat resumed the flow of blood in my body. It forced my head to lift from the ground, the rest of my limbs remaining fixed to the solid earth. The unknown force cradled my head, unwound my brows, caressed me like a lost lover.

“Hector Shaw.”

Megara stood in front of me with a parchment paper fully intact between her fingers. She wielded it like a throwing dagger, poised like she was ready to fling it at my forehead. Short pink hair spiked around her forehead and framed her ears, intensifying the olive green of her eyes that stood out from her clay-tan skin.

The smirk she wore felt too amused for such a serious ceremony. Well, it wasn’t like I had met many serious witches in my time.

Faye hadn’t been serious. That was why she fell for me.

When Megara squinted, I felt the full weight of her judgment. She didn’t seem so entertained now, especially not when she tilted her nose to the sky. She stared down her sloped bridge where I still knelt on the ground.

“Rise and meet your remorse,” she stated in a hoarse voice. “Tell me, Hector, what would you do to right this wrong?”

I carefully shifted my weight to my feet and used my hands to help myself up. Blood rushed to my brain and made me dizzy for a split second, causing my vision to split into three. I reached for the paper and plucked it with a smidge of aggravation from her fingers. When I unfolded the parchment, all I could see was my name written in fine script letters and black ink.

Megara grinned mischievously. “Well?”

Avoiding her gaze, I refolded the paper and tucked it into my palm. “I promise never to mislead any of my pack.”

Adrian came into view, his features etched like worn leather and his smile holding a promise as well—that he would support me during this time. He bowed deep with his arm folded over his stomach as the others got to their feet to do the same.

“Long live the alpha!” Adrian bellowed.

The others followed alongwith pride, “Long live the pack!”

Though the cheers that erupted around me were joyful, I didn’t feel any sense of accomplishment in my heart. All I could think about was Faye—that woman with blonde hair and hazel-brown eyes, hips for days, a round face, and a rotten frown. I could see her disappointment as clearly as I saw the orange and yellow flames lick the charcoal cauldron. I saw her betrayal. I saw the way she fought against her tears as she ran off.

A public rejection was enough to send anyone heading for the hills. But for Faye, it was more than just a fake proposal performed in front of our pack.

It was exile. It was social death. It was a public execution of the worst sort.

Adrian had chided me back then, giving me no more than a slap on the wrist. For him, it didn’t much matter whether Faye was truly part of the pack. Her parents had already rejected her. Most of the others had done the same. And even then, even when everyone showed little to no care for the girl, they often whispered how I would be the one to become her mate.

A swift clap on my upper back smacked me right back into the present. Cliff was shaking my shoulders while Rodney and Bentley were howling at the sky, their canines descending purposefully as their shifts slowly began. Dawson paced on the other side of the cauldron, eyes heated by the flames and illuminating his disappointment.

Maybe next time.

Adrian caught my shoulder, wearing a tired yet pleased smile. His build was boxier than mine, thick and worn frommany years spent running this entire pack—to war and back. “You make me proud, son.”

Tears stung my eyes. I refused to allow them passage, choosing to lock them in my throat with the knot that formed there. “Thank you, sir.”

“If your parents were here—”

“Well, they’re not, right?” I snapped.

Cliff noticed the change in my tone while the others remained ignorant.

I swallowed the knot, reducing it by a mere fraction of its original size. “I’m sorry, sir. You know I only have my aunt.”

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