Page 13 of Brutal Alpha Beast
Everything will be fine.
A violinist begins playing, and the murmuring crowd of shifters and witches falls silent.
Danielle turns to face the altar, slowly, with her arm looped into Penelope as they both walk forward. I’m not sure what to do with my hands, so I keep my arms firmly by my sides.
She gets closer and closer.
As soon as those glittering green eyes find mine, the color in her cheeks completely dissolves. She freezes.
She looks as though she’s seen a ghost.
But her pause is only for a nanosecond. She regains herself quickly—she’s once again completely composed before anyone in the crowd notices.
Why did she pause?
She’s looking away now, not at me but purposefully past my shoulders at something random in the sky.
She turned pale because of me, and that look of shock that she’s trying to disguise as she avoids my face might be unreadable to everyone else. But it’s there.
Something’s wrong.
Is she shocked because she’s marrying the pack’s Alpha? Is she nervous about that? Maybe she should have been warned in advance?
The decision for it to be me as the groom, as opposed to any of my other shifters, was one that was made unanimously between Penelope and me.
It was made as the only way to ensure that nothing fishy goes on. I trust my packmates, but marrying a witch is not something that would be easy for any of them. At least this way, I can make sure that there’s no sabotage.
Besides, the alliance was my idea; it’s only fair that I take the weight of the burden.
Danielle comes beside me, the music stops, and I notice her eyes briefly flicker to me and then back to the elder standing before us.
She seems shaken—really shaken, in fact, more shaken than I ever thought she would be.
Why do I want to comfort her?
It makes sense that she’d feel nervous. Witches know how much we hate them, and if she knows anything about my history, which is possible, then she’ll know that I have a personal reason for my hatred. Given that my mother was a witch and she abandoned me, going through with this marriage is no easy thing.
But I know it has to be done.
Our elder says a few words, and as instructed, he talks about what a great thing this union will be.
I stare ahead, aware of Danielle trying her best to slow her breath beside me.
We repeat our vows, not at each other like a normal couple would, but side by side, facing the crowd. It’s almost funny how miserable everyone looks.
No one tries to hide how uncomfortable the union is making them feel.
The place is divided, with shifters on the left and witches on the right. Those sitting on the outer edge turn their bodies inward so that they’re facing their own kind.
My body tenses.
I understand why it’s so hard for everyone to pretend to get along, perhaps more than most of them do. But the world is changing. I need to cast aside my hatred if I want my pack to move forward.
I need to lead by example.
“Now,” the elder says. “You may embrace your bride.”
Embrace is a good choice of words.
