Into the Wild Unknown with the Exiled Alpha

It has been three days since Martha departed. Three days during which I've confined myself to my room, desperately attempting to distract my mind from the grim reality.

The only moments I venture out of my room is to stick my head out of the window to smoke, keen on preventing the acrid smell from clinging to the walls. The small glass ashtray on my desk is brimming with ashes, and two empty cigarette packs languish in the trash can.

Approximately four times a day, one of the lower-ranking pack members, a maid or servant, brings me food. I can only assume this is Wyatt's ploy to curry favor, his feigned sweetness designed to prevent me from causing a scene during the impending ceremony.

Little does he know that his pitiful attempts to win me over are futile. I won't bend for that arrogant jerk, no matter how much food he sends my way.

I hadn't even realized I was slipping into slumber until a knock on the door rouses me from my troubled dreams.

Normally, someone calls out to me after knocking when delivering food, but this time, no voice follows the knock.

What now? Another task for wedding preparations? I scoff at myself.

The knocking intensifies.

"I'm coming," I growl, untangling myself from the bed sheets. I make my way to the door and open it.

Wyatt stands there, hands in his pockets, wearing a polite smile. "Well, hello, sleepyhead," he chirps, his tone dripping with false friendliness. The sound of it nearly churns my stomach. "The party's beginning in half an hour, so make sure you look your best. After all, it's in our honor."

I narrow my eyes at him and take a step back, scrutinizing his every move. "Who the hell are you?"

He laughs, as if my question were the funniest thing he'd ever heard, but it's an artificial sound. "I just came to remind you," he says, his tone switching abruptly to a more business-like one. "Now, fix your hair, put on something extravagant, and be downstairs in ten minutes."

I stand motionless, like a statue, maintaining my skeptical gaze.

"Alright, listen up. As my chosen Luna, you need to have a presence that makes everyone envious at first sight. Of course, they already do that as long as you're by my side, but still. I expect you to act like the perfect sweetheart, and if not... there will be consequences."

With that, his façade crumbles, and his arrogant and bossy attitude returns in full force, along with that pulsating vein in his neck that always appears when he doesn't get his way.

I continue to stare at him with an unyielding gaze, knowing it will eventually cause that nerve of his to snap. If he intends to control my life, which he undoubtedly does, then he'll have to provide some reasoning.

"Why have you chosen me as your Luna?" I inquire, wary. It doesn't add up. We don't get along anymore, so why would he want to marry me, against my will no less?

He smirks, locking eyes with me, his gaze gleaming with malevolence. "You're mouthy, Mackenzie Adkins. Sharp-tongued and clever. Those are qualities people don't notice until it's too late."

Drawing closer, he lifts my chin with his thumb, our cheeks almost touching, his warm breath wafting over my ear as he speaks in a hushed tone. "And I can't forget those gray eyes... They're so cold, so unpredictable, so... inscrutable."

He swipes his thumb along my jawline as he steps back, then turns and leaves abruptly. "Remember," his voice echoes in the dim hallway, "Ten minutes."

I raise my fingers to touch the spot where his thumb had been, rubbing my skin until it begins to burn. I'm convinced I've rubbed it raw with my palm, yet it still doesn't feel clean.

So, that's his reason.

He intends to use me as his pawn.

But I'll be damned if I help him win whatever twisted game he's playing.

With Alpha Matias's threat looming in my mind, I close the door and reluctantly begin the process of preparing myself. If only I had a fashion-savvy best friend like the movies portrayed, then this would be so much easier.

The cruel irony is that I do have one, but she's miles away, enjoying herself in another pack.

At least one of us is having a good time.