Fated to the Alpha's Deception

Was this their way of keeping me under watch? I tried desperately to escape, but the solid door wouldn’t budge. The guard’s grip was firm, his dominance as a Delta warrior making resistance futile.

“Luna,” he said, his tone respectful but unyielding, “don’t make this difficult for us.” He pushed me back inside and closed the door, leaving me trapped in the room. Frustrated, I walked over to the window, but being on the fourth floor made jumping unthinkable. Besides, Alpha Layton’s loyal warriors patrolled every inch below, their sharp eyes scanning for any sign of movement. It dawned on me how little control I had over my own freedom, how tightly the pack’s hierarchy bound me.

Overwhelmed, I sank to the floor and began to cry.

After what felt like an eternity, the door opened, and Alpha Layton entered, carrying a thermos. His presence was commanding, his tall, muscular frame filling the space. He was dressed impeccably, his Alpha aura radiating authority. “You must be hungry,” he said gently, though his voice carried the weight of his position. “I had someone make tomato soup for you. Drink it while it’s hot.”

I avoided his eyes, instead focusing on the marking ceremony invitation I held. It had slipped from Rayne’s dress earlier, and the sight of it made my stomach churn. I asked directly, “The person you worked so hard to save is marking someone else now. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Alpha Layton paused mid-scoop, his expression unreadable. “I just see her as a sister,” he replied, his tone calm but firm. “As long as she’s happy, that’s all that matters.”

This answer didn’t surprise me. I continued, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest, “So, when do you plan to let me go?”

Alpha Layton chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in it. “And where would you go without me?” he asked, his voice laced with condescension. “I’ve told you I’m going to mark you as my mate. Tomorrow, we’re getting our photos taken for the ceremony.”

Clearly, he intended to keep using me as a blood source for Rayne. I stared intently at his face, remembering how I had begged countless times over the years to formalize our bond, only to hear that true mates didn’t need such formalities. Yet now, he was eager not to miss any moment with Rayne. His favoritism was painfully clear.

I accepted the tomato soup he offered and drank it silently. Seeing my indifferent expression, Alpha Layton stifled any unease he might have felt and stayed quietly by my side.

The next morning, he was already getting ready—his dark hair styled perfectly, his custom-tailored suit accentuating his broad shoulders, and an irrepressible smile on his face. Even though I knew he didn’t love me, the dependence I’d developed over the years left my heart aching.

“Can’t we do it on a different day than Rayne’s?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Alpha Layton hesitated, his Alpha tone softening slightly. “Rayne said she doesn’t blame you for what happened yesterday. You should apologize to her later.”

I didn’t respond, allowing him to lead me to the car. The ride was silent, the tension between us palpable.

The venue for the photos was cleared out by the time we arrived, and Alpha Layton had already disappeared when I stepped out of the car. Guided by the staff, I went into the dressing room to try on the dress he had pre-selected. The gown was elegant, but it wasn’t made for me.

“This is odd,” the staff member assisting me said, her tone hesitant. “It was made to the measurements Alpha Ortiz provided, but it doesn’t fit. Luna, have you been watching your weight recently?”

I had been donating blood frequently over the years, and my body had grown increasingly frail. How could I not be controlling my weight? The truth was, this dress wasn’t meant for me. Just as Alpha Layton never intended for me to be his mate.

Forcing something that doesn’t fit only brings more discomfort. This applies to clothing and even more so to people.

“If it doesn’t fit, then it doesn’t fit,” I said, my voice firm despite the ache in my chest. “Find me something to cover my back and pin it in place.”

Perhaps because Alpha Layton wasn’t there, the staff showed little respect and suggested, “How about we just take a few test shots in this for now? Once you pick a dress, we can make alterations.”

Too tired to argue, I posed for a few photos before sending them off to alter the dress. The empty dressing room left me alone with my thoughts. I stared at my phone, waiting for a reply. To leave Alpha Layton, I needed someone’s help.

“Gloria James,” I muttered to myself, my voice tinged with bitterness. “Why are you always following me? I specifically asked Alpha Layton to come alone for the dress fitting, yet he insists on bringing you along.”