Claimed By The Cursed Alpha

~ ROSELLE ~

You know that moment where Cinderella gets to dance with her prince? Yeah, it feels that way. His cologne of vanilla and chocolate fills my nose… But oh well, I shouldn't be dreaming, because he's only going to look at me the same when he finds out I'm nothing but a mute.

"You smell different…" he mutters, eyes never leaving mine. If anything, they seem to stare straight into my soul as though they can see through every layer…

"You should be careful…" he says finally, before letting me down… I've never felt so short until this very moment. With a height that towers over me, broad shoulders, thick black hair, well-defined jaw. He's dressed ever so casually… And I know he's not one of the guards, because they'll be in uniform, and he's definitely not.

He bows gently, and then suddenly leaves me standing alone to think and try to solve the mystery of who he is… He bows, which actually means he must have known that I'm the princess.

My gaze trails after him as he leaves. I steady my stance, grabbing my gown as I keep walking, my destination to meet Warren.

He's in his office when I get inside. He stands right in front of me, those cold looks filled with hatred staring back at me, when I was younger, I kept thinking I was misreading it, that maybe I just didn't understand what love looked like yet. I understand now. That look has a name, and it's called disgust.

"What's going on?" I sign, even though I know I'm not supposed to talk to him. I'm more concerned about the pack and why Alpha Ronan is at the pack.

"Close the door," he says flatly.

I walk back to the door, closing it properly even though my hands are still trembling slightly from meeting that strange guy on the stairs. I press my palms together and sign again carefully.

"What's happening? Why is Alpha Ronan here?"

Warren watches my hands move with the same expression someone wears when a fly won't stop buzzing near their ear.

"Stop that." He doesn't even look at what I'm signing. "I told you about doing that in front of me."

I lower my hands. That's it… he doesn't want to hear me talk, even with the little effort I try to make with the signals from my hands, it's irritating, he doesn't want to hear it.

Warren moves to his desk, straightening papers that don't need straightening. It's something he does when he's about to say something he knows is going to land badly. I've learned his tells the same way prey learns a predator's habits.

"You look terrible," he says, glancing up briefly. "They should have done better with your hair."

I stare at him.

He straightens his cuffs, but doesn't meet my eyes.

"Alpha Ronan is here on pack business." A pause. " Which is specifically... you."

My stomach drops.

I sign again, even though I know he doesn't want me to. "Me? What does he want with me?"

"What do you think he wants?" Warren finally looks at me then, and I wish he hadn't. Because that look is the one I know best. The one that says I am a problem he has finally found a solution for. "You're going to be his bride."

The words land in the room like something dropped from a great height.

His bride.

Alpha Ronan? The one whose wives end up dead. I shake my head. Both hands come up, frantic now, signing fast, too fast, probably illegible and I don't care.

No. Warren, no. You can't, I'm your mate, I'm still your...

The slap comes out of nowhere.

My head snaps sideways, cheek blazing, and I grab the edge of his desk to keep from going down, my vision whites out briefly.

"Don't." His voice is low. "Don't you dare stand there and remind me of that. You are not my mate. You are nothing but a fucking mistake. A broken, useless, embarrassing mistake that I have carried the burden of for long enough."

He grabs my wrist when I try to straighten, yanking me close enough that I can smell the whiskey beneath the expensive cologne.

"You can't speak, you can't shift, and you are already eighteen years old and still wolfless. Do you know what they say about me? What they whisper? That the Alpha of Westbrook is shackled to a mute princess who can't even howl at the moon." His grip tightens. "I am done being your keeper. Alpha Ronan wants a bride. You should be grateful someone wants you at all."

He releases me hard enough that I stumble backward.

I catch myself on the wall. Press my back against it. My cheek is burning, my wrist aching.

He smooths his jacket. Rolls his neck like the conversation has been mildly inconvenient for him. "You'll be presented to him within the hour, and don't you try to embarrass me or else you'll go back to that magnificent cell if yours. Don't try sign anything either, you will not make that ridiculous face you make, and you will stand there and look..."

The door suddenly opens, interrupting Warren.

I turn, and the air leaves my lungs completely. It's him. The man from the stairs, with the Vanilla and chocolate cologne.

His eyes find Warren first. Then they move slowly to mine as though he's taking in everything about me that was not there when he first saw me descending the stairs.

A muscle in his jaw ticks, and I dont miss the crease of frown forming in his face.

"Alpha Ronan." Warren's voice has changed entirely. The cruelty evaporates so fast it's almost impressive. He steps forward, hand extended, smile materializing from nothing. "I wasn't expecting you quite so soon, we were just..."

"Is that how you reward females in your pack?"

He questions.

Warren's hand drops, his mouth opens, and then closes. "I... it's nothing, she was just..." He laughs, and it comes out wrong, too high, too fast. "She's spirited. I was simply trying to speak with my... with your bride. Just a conversation that got slightly..."

"Your bride." Alpha Ronan says it slowly. Like he's picking the words up and examining them.

Warren nods, too eagerly. "Yes. Yes, exactly. Yours. Which is why I wanted to make sure she understood what was expected of her. She's my sister that I promised to give you as my bride for the alliance,"

It's almost as if my brain stops working. Sister? Alliance? Not only did Warren take my pack from me, but he fucking lies that I'm his sister and suddenly wants to give me off for an alliance? That's why he fucking released me… so I can finally leave my pack?

One minute Alpha Ronan is standing inches away from us, the next, he crosses the distance, hands suddenly grabbing Warren by his shirt and pinning him to the wall…

"And what gives you the fucking right to touch my bride?"

"I didn't touch her… Alpha…"