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

The garden had always been my refuge, but tonight it felt like a battlefield as Archibald Summerby stood before me, his tall figure cutting a sharp silhouette against the twilight sky. His unexpected presence in my sanctuary sent a wave of indignation through me, momentarily overriding the humiliation that had been my constant companion since Rupert's betrayal hours earlier.

"What are you doing here?" I repeated when he didn't immediately answer, my voice sharper than I intended.

Archibald took another step forward, moonlight catching the angles of his face. "Your father let me in," he said simply, as if that explained everything.

Of course he did. The Summerbys were always welcome at the Fitzgerald estate. Our families had been allies for generations, culminating in the arrangement that would one day make me Archibald's Luna—a future I'd spent years resenting and avoiding.

"That doesn't answer my question," I said, closing my fingers around the silver pendant, hiding the wolf emblem from his penetrating gaze.

He sighed, a sound that seemed to contain years of frustration. "I think you know why I'm here, Isla. What happened today at school—"

"Was nothing," I cut him off, my pride flaring defensively. I would not appear weak before Archibald Summerby of all people. "Just typical high school drama."

He raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched in every line of his face. "Nothing? That's what you call having Thornfield publicly humiliate you, then demanding I take you to prom?"

Hearing him say it out loud made the wound fresh again. I stood abruptly, needing to be on equal footing—or as equal as possible given his towering height.

"It doesn't matter," I insisted, chin raised defiantly. "And I don't need you checking up on me like I'm some fragile little Beta who can't handle rejection."

"Is that what happened?" Archibald asked, his voice deceptively soft. "Rejection?"

Something in his tone made me look at him more closely. There was knowledge in his eyes—he'd seen more than I realized.

"What exactly did you witness?" I asked cautiously.

"Enough." The word hung between us, heavy with implication. "I saw Thornfield throw something back at you. I saw you crying. And I heard what they were saying about you pretending to be nobility."

My stomach twisted. "And you came here to what? Gloat? Tell me 'I told you so' for trying to hide who I am?"

"I came to understand what happened," he said, frustration edging into his voice. "And to make sure you're alright."

"I'm fine," I snapped, the lie bitter on my tongue. "And nothing significant happened. Rupert turned out to be a jerk. End of story."

Archibald's eyes narrowed slightly. "If that's all it was, why are you out here alone in the dark, clutching your family crest and crying?"

I turned away, unable to meet his gaze. "That's none of your business."

"It became my business when you publicly declared me your prom date," he countered, moving to stand in front of me again. "I think I deserve some explanation."

He was right, and that only made me angrier. "Fine. You want to know what happened? I misjudged someone. I thought Rupert actually liked me for me, not for my name or status. I was wrong. Lesson learned. Satisfied?"

"No," he said quietly. "Because you're still not telling me everything."

Something in his persistent questioning broke through my defenses. "What do you want me to say, Archibald? That I humiliated myself by giving him a family heirloom? That he laughed in my face and accused me of stealing it? That apparently he's been dating Seraphina Vale behind my back? Is that what you want to hear?"

The words tumbled out in a rush, each one like glass in my throat. I hated that he was witnessing this breakdown, hated that he of all people was seeing me at my weakest.

"Don't tell my parents," I added quickly, suddenly terrified of my father finding out how foolishly I'd behaved. "Please, Archibald. They can't know about this."

He studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable in the growing darkness. "Why hide it from them?"

"Because they'll say exactly what you're thinking right now—that this is what happens when I try to pretend I'm not who I am. That I brought this on myself." My voice cracked on the last words.

Archibald's jaw tightened. "Is that what you think I'm thinking?"

"Isn't it?" I challenged. "You've never approved of me 'playing commoner' at school. You parade around with your Alpha status on full display, never hiding who you are. You probably think I deserved what happened today."

Something flashed in his eyes—anger, perhaps, or offense. "You don't know what I think, Isla."

"Then enlighten me," I shot back.

He took a step closer, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. "I think you were naive," he said, his voice low and intense. "I think you believed you could escape who you are by pretending to be someone else. And yes, I think that decision made you vulnerable to people like Thornfield."

Each word was like a slap. "So you do think I deserved it."

"No," he said firmly. "No one deserves to be humiliated like that. What Thornfield did was cruel and cowardly. But that doesn't change the fact that your attempt to hide your identity was misguided from the start."

"Easy for you to say," I retorted, anger building again. "You've never wanted to be anything other than the perfect Alpha heir. You've never felt suffocated by expectations or wanted to know if people could like you for yourself, not your name."

"And you think pretending to be someone else is the way to find that out?" he asked, skepticism heavy in his voice.

"At least I tried!" I exclaimed. "At least I wanted something real, not just the political arrangement our parents decided on before we were even born!"

The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Our arranged marriage was a subject we'd tacitly agreed never to discuss at school, part of our mutual pretense of being strangers.

Archibald's expression hardened. "You know nothing about what I want, Isla."

"And whose fault is that?" I countered. "You've never bothered to tell me. You're too busy being the arrogant, perfect Alpha heir that everyone admires and fears."

"And you're too busy running from who you are," he shot back. "How's that working out for you?"

The barb hit its mark, reopening the wound of Rupert's betrayal. I turned away, unwilling to let him see the fresh tears that threatened to fall.

"Are you still taking me to prom?" I asked after a moment, my voice smaller than I intended.

There was a pause, long enough that I thought he might refuse. Finally, he sighed. "Yes. I gave my word."

I turned back to face him, surprised. "Even after all this?"

"It's a matter of honor," he said stiffly. "But Isla—" His voice softened slightly. "This pretense you're maintaining... it won't protect you. It will only lead to more pain."

"You don't know that," I insisted, though doubt had already taken root.

"I know more than you think." He stepped back, creating distance between us. "I'll pick you up at seven on Saturday. We can discuss the details later."

He turned to leave, then paused. "And Isla? Whatever game you're playing by asking me to be your date, remember that I'm not Thornfield. I won't be manipulated."

With that warning hanging in the air, he walked away, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the garden path. I watched him go, a strange mixture of relief and apprehension settling in my chest.

I looked down at the silver pendant still clutched in my hand, the wolf emblem catching the moonlight. Archibald's words echoed in my mind: *This pretense you're maintaining... it won't protect you.*

I couldn’t help but wondering… Was I wrong all this time long?