Didn't Know I Was Alpha's Daughter When He Humiliated Me

"Isl-Fitzgerald?" Archibald said, as he grabbed me by my shoulders.

The humiliation burned too hot, choking me. Behind us, I could hear Rupert and Seraphina's laughter growing louder as they approached, no doubt eager to witness more of my public mortification.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped animal seeking escape.

“What happened?” Archibald asked. His voice getting serious.

In that moment, something inside me snapped.

Pride—the one thing I had left—surged through my veins like wildfire.

Without thinking, I pivoted on my heel, grabbed Archibald's sleeve with desperate fingers, and almost shouted.

"Be my prom date!"

The hallway must have heard my words clearly.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

Archibald Summerby didn't date. Everyone knew that. The Alpha heir had turned down countless offers from the most beautiful, most connected girls in school.

And here I was—tear-stained and disheveled—demanding what no one had ever received.

For a moment that stretched into eternity, Archibald simply stared at me.

His face remained impassive, but something shifted in his eyes—a calculation, perhaps, or a decision being weighed.

Behind us, I heard Rupert's derisive snort. "Seriously, Isla? You think Summerby would waste his time with someone like you?"

Seraphina's tinkling laugh followed. "How desperate can you get? First trying to pass off stolen jewelry as family heirlooms, now throwing yourself at the one boy in school even more out of your league than Rupert?"

Their words were daggers, but I refused to flinch. I kept my eyes locked on Archibald's, silently daring him to reject me, to complete my humiliation. At least then it would be over.

What I didn't expect was the slight narrowing of his eyes as they flicked over my shoulder to where Rupert and Seraphina stood. I didn't expect the almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw, or the way his gaze returned to mine with something that looked almost like... resolve.

And I certainly didn't expect him to nod.

One simple, decisive movement of his head.

A yes.

The hallway erupted into chaos.

Exclamations of disbelief, hurried whispers, the frantic tapping of fingers on phone screens as the news spread like wildfire through the school's social channels.

Archibald Summerby had agreed to take Isla Fitzgerald to prom.

Rupert's face contorted with shock, his mouth opening and closing like a fish thrown onto dry land. Seraphina's perfectly composed facade cracked, her eyes widening with something that looked remarkably like fear.

Before anyone could recover enough to speak, Archibald reached out and took my elbow in a gentle but firm grip. "We're done here," he said, his voice carrying effortlessly over the commotion. Without waiting for a response, he guided me away from the crowd, his tall frame effectively shielding me from the stares and whispers.

I let him lead me, too stunned by what had just happened to resist. We walked in silence until we reached a quiet alcove near the library, far from prying eyes.

"You're crying," he observed when we stopped, his tone matter-of-fact rather than sympathetic.

I hastily wiped at my cheeks, embarrassment flooding back. "I'm fine."

"Clearly." The sarcasm in his voice was mild but unmistakable. He studied me for a moment longer, then sighed. "What exactly was that about, Fitzgerald?"

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "You saw what happened. I was being... I needed to..." The words wouldn't come.

"Save face?" he supplied. "Make Thornfield jealous? Or was it just a convenient way to humiliate me along with yourself?"

That stung enough to make me look at him again. "I wasn't trying to humiliate you."

"No?" His eyebrow arched again. "Then what were you trying to do?"

The truth was, I didn't know. I'd acted on pure impulse, driven by hurt and rage and the desperate need to reclaim some shred of dignity. But I couldn't admit that to him.

"Does it matter?" I asked instead. "You agreed."

Something flickered across his face—annoyance, perhaps, or resignation. "Yes, I did." He straightened his already perfect blazer. "I'll pick you up at seven on Saturday. Wear something appropriate."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the alcove, clutching my family's pendant and wondering what I'd just gotten myself into.

The rest of the school day passed in a blur of whispers and stares. By final period, it seemed everyone had heard both about my humiliation at Rupert's hands and my shocking prom date with Archibald Summerby. I kept my head high, my face expressionless, though inside I was still raw and bleeding.

I didn't wait for my usual ride home. Instead, I called for a private car, slipping out a side entrance to avoid further confrontation. The driver knew better than to attempt conversation with a Fitzgerald, so the ride passed in blessed silence, giving me time to process the day's events.

By the time we pulled through the wrought iron gates of my family's estate, I had managed to lock away the worst of my pain behind a wall of numbness.

I dismissed the driver with a nod and made my way not to the main house but to the garden beyond, a sanctuary I'd claimed as my own years ago.

The spring air was cool against my skin as I settled onto a stone bench nestled among blooming roses.

I opened my palm, finally releasing the silver pendant I'd been clutching since Rupert had thrown it back at me. The wolf emblem gleamed in the fading light, a symbol of everything I'd tried to escape and everything I truly was.

I don't know how long I sat there, still in my rumpled school uniform, staring at the necklace and replaying the day's humiliations on an endless loop. The garden grew darker around me as twilight descended, but I made no move to return to the house.

"You'll catch cold sitting out here."

The voice startled me so badly I nearly dropped the pendant. I looked up to find Archibald Summerby standing a few feet away, hands in the pockets of his expensive coat, watching me with that same inscrutable expression he'd worn in the hallway.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, hastily wiping away tears I hadn't realized I'd been shedding.

He took a step closer, his tall figure silhouetted against the darkening sky.

"I think we need to talk about what happened today." His eyes dropped to the necklace in my hand, then back to my face. "And about what happens next."

The finality in his tone sent a chill through me that had nothing to do with the evening air.

Whatever game I'd started by demanding he take me to prom, I guessed it was clear that Archibald Summerby intended to play by his own rules.