Page 16 of The Alpha's Chosen Outcast

I start walking a little faster, eager to return to our estate and check on Father. I know these issues aren’t a reality in our current circumstances, but I’m overprotective of him nonetheless.

While I’m capable of taking power if he goes, I don’t want to do that yet. I want more time to be myself because when I become Alpha, everything changes.

I’ll also be pushed to get married or find a mate, and I’m not ready for that either. I’m 32, and that leaves plenty of time for me to continue the family line.

Violet is getting married, which will continue her new husband’s family line. It’s my responsibility to continue ours and bring the next heir apparent to keep the Alpha power in the Hanover family.

I’m not even sure why this comes to mind while I’m walking home from a situation where I almost had to kill someone. There was nothing in that scenario that would lead to marriage or mating. I felt something when I scented Heather, a sort of “snap” sensation like a rubber band hitting my skin.

I can only see it as a warning. Something in this universe needs me to recognize that this woman is dangerous to myself and myfamily. I don’t like letting her stay in such close proximity to Violet, but apparently, there’s no one else to design this dress.

After being lost in my mind for the entire walk home, I open the gate and head down the driveway. The security guards move aside as I approach, and Violet is nowhere to be seen. I go straight to Father’s room and find him sound asleep. Machines beep steadily to show that his vitals are all good.

With a sigh of relief, I sit in the recliner at his bedside. Something had me so keyed up that I worried if he was okay. Now that I see him with my own eyes, I can relax. I sit back and let the events of the night play again in my mind.

And for some reason, the most prominent image in all of it is Heather.

Chapter 5

HEATHER

What the actual fuck just happened?

I knew that coming back here was a risk. I knew that the bride was high profile. I had no fucking clue that she would be a fucking Hanover and that the Alpha’s son would be joining us.

I’m utterly and completely fucking fucked.

I put my hand on my throat where his claws had nearly sliced through my carotid moments ago. If I’d been human, I’d have bled out in minutes.

Thankfully, wolf healing and Violet’s quick moves with the compression on my throat saved me from that fate.

Then again, maybe I’d be better off. At least this whole thing would be over. Now I have to actually design and make a wedding dress for Violet fucking Hanover.

How do I even do that? Will her brother kill me if I make a mistake on one of the sketches? Will he kill me if her hemline is slightly off on the first try?

Why didn’t I see the name “Hanover” on the order when Jessie and Gretta talked about it? I barely heard a word they’d said the whole time they'd been talking.

I was so preoccupied with my normal fears about coming back here that I didn’t even register that there was a reason to be absolutely terrified.

He knows I’m here. The Alpha’s son. The man who pinned me to the wall with his claws. He knows where I am and could kill me anytime he wants. He could kill me in my sleep. I’d never see him coming.

Should I run?

No, I can’t do that either. He’d know, and if anyone else found me here, I’d be dead for sure. At least if I stay inside this store, I have some sliver of hope that I might survive this. He had a chance to kill me when he had me against the wall, and he didn’t do it.

My hand goes to my throat again, thinking about his claws there—the warmth of his body, his power, the growl in his chest threatening my life.

Why does it make me feel like I wish I’d packed my vibrator? I can’t want him. I’m probably disgusting to him as an exile.

I go over to the break room and see my stuff still sitting there. I don’t really have any place to unpack, but I have to do something to feel at home. I’m going to be here for three months.

Three fucking months of wondering if I’ll be killed every time I see my client. I can’t think about it, or I’m gonna drive myself insane. I have to do something else.

So I open my suitcase on the table and check the place out, trying to decide where I might put my things to make it seem more like a sort of dorm room and less like a break room. I’ve already seen the workroom and the showroom.

When I arrived, I barely saw this break room because I’d hastily thrown my bags in before I went to meet Violet. Now, as I undo the straps holding my folded clothes, it feels like that moment had been days ago, not hours.

The rest of the space is pretty basic. There’s a small fridge/freezer comb—not exactly a mini fridge, but not a full-sized one, either. Next to that is a flimsy card table with a microwave, some paper plates, and a little basket with plastic utensils. On the other side of the room, there’s a counter with some cabinets above and below it.

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