The Alpha’s Chosen Outcast

13. HEATHER

Chapter 13

HEATHER

I’m getting really fucking nervous about not having any marriage prospects lined up before this dress is finished. I take a look at it over on the form in the workroom.

The embroidery is all done on the dress and train. I’m working on the veil now and that’s almost harder than everything else because it’s so much delicate fabric.

I hear the front door open, and my breath hitches at the sound of Trey’s heavy footfalls headed down the hallway behind Violet’s signature heels. He’s back.

Does he know about the run I did with Violet last week? She said she wouldn’t tell anyone, but does that include Trey?

The sound of plastic bags mingles with their voices. I smell the sandwiches before they get to the workroom door.

Violet pops her head in, one of the bags looped over her arm. She smiles at me and waves with her other hand, pointing to the break room.

“Come on. We brought chicken cutlet parm heroes!”

I don’t even think about cleaning up. I dash past her to the break room but stop abruptly when I see Trey setting down two other bags and taking out round foil containers with paper covers on top. I inhale deeply and smile.

I don’t care about any awkwardness between us. I don’t care that I could die in less than two weeks when this wedding happens.

All I care about is sinking my teeth into one of those sandwiches. There is no place in the country (maybe the world, but I don’t have the experience to make that assertion) that has rolls and chicken cutlets made the way they’re made in the city.

Trey is pulling out garlic knots now, too, and white pizza with sundried tomatoes. He uncovers penne a la vodka, and he has a giant container of the deli iced tea that they brew in-house. It’s the unsweet kind, not like southern sweet tea.

Before I can get out the words, he’s also pulling out the strawberry sauce that one place down the block has for their iced tea.

I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight in my life. Okay, that’s an exaggeration, of course, but after weeks of being stuck in this place with only one run at the park to alleviate my stress, that’s how it feels to see those items on the table.

I’m salivating, hoping I won’t have to wait long to dig in.

It takes all of my self control to sit down at the table and wait for Violet and Trey to get situated. He pushes one of the containers toward me and an empty plate for me to pick from the communal dishes.

I open the container and see a huge chicken cutlet parm hero sitting there, covered in sauce and cheese. I pull out my phone to snap a photo for Logan. Trey scoffs.

“Oh, you’re one of those .” He says, with a bit of what sounds like disgust in his voice.

I put my hands on my hips after I stand and slide my phone back into my pocket.

“One of what?” I ask.

“One of those people who has to snap photos of everything they eat. Let me guess, you have a food-based Instagram account?”

I chuckle. “No. I don’t have an Instagram account at all or any social media. On the run, remember?”

“So the photo is for…” He waves his hand for me to finish.

“My friend Logan. He’s a huge foodie and fascinated by NYC.”

“I see.”

“Don’t go there, Trey. He’s only ever been a friend, and he’s completely obsessed with my other friend, Callie. Everyone sees it but her.”

Trey sits down and starts serving food on his own plate. We hear the water running in the bathroom and know Violet must be washing her hands before she comes to sit with us. I take his obvious jealousy as an opportunity to poke him further.

“How’s the search for my husband going?”

I pick up half my hero and take a huge bite, savoring it as I chew and wait for him to answer. He shrugs one shoulder and takes a bite of his own hero. He looks me in the eye as he chews along with me, both of us with full and closed mouths.

I roll my eyes. He doesn’t show that he registers anything I’ve said or has any intention of answering.

I swallow my food. “Come on, I need you to take this seriously. This is my life we’re talking about.”

Trey finishes his bite and answers me, “You think I don’t know that? It’s not easy to try to find someone else to marry my mate because of some stupid fucking law that I can’t change for the very reason the stupid fucking law doesn’t apply to me.”

“Right, your lack of Alpha status.”

“Don’t remind me again. I don’t want to hope for my father’s death. If he would stop being so fucking stubborn and relinquish his power, I wouldn’t have to, and then I could take you as my own.”

“If that’s what I want, you mean.”

“Why wouldn’t you want it?”

“Look, I’m just saying that who I marry should be my choice alone.”

“Am I standing in your way? Have you decided that one of the suitors I’ve proposed is good enough for you then?”

“No, but you know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“Stop it, both of you.” Violet enters the conversation.

We hang our heads in unison, cowed by the stern voice of the woman we’ve both come to see as a sister. I hate that this is happening in the lead-up to her wedding and that she’s involved at all. That’s her choice, too. She sits down and pours some iced tea.

“I seriously wish the two of you could just get married. This is ridiculous. Whoever Heather does end up marrying is going to see the mating bond between you and the looks you give each other that you think no one is noticing. Trust me, you’re not that discreet.”

We’re idiots. I didn’t think about that part. Other wolves will be able to smell our bond, even if we don’t tell them about it, especially an Alpha. Fuck.

“We keep asking ourselves why we can’t, and we keep coming up with reasons. Are they actually that valid?” I ask.

Trey speaks up. “Yes, they are. The biggest one is that we’ll both be killed, possibly Violet, too, and the Hanover line will be over. So will the Cauley bloodline. We can’t risk that. I don’t want to do that to our pack or Heather’s parents.”

Violet turns to Trey. “Then you’re gonna have to suck it up too. I know you don’t want to see Heather with anyone else, but isn’t that better than seeing her dead, exiled, or in some horribly abusive marriage?”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to prevent!” Trey stands up quickly, and a snarl escapes him.

“You’re not preventing it,” I say, “because you’re not giving me any viable candidates. Do you want to help me get married or not?”

The snarl rolls out of him in a low tone.

“I have been doing my part, Heather. I’m reaching out to the Alphas of other packs, asking about business deals to mask the real reason, trying to find ways to learn more about who they are.”

“Why can’t you tell them you need to find a husband for someone in your pack?”

“They’ll have questions about you. They’ll want to know more about who you are and why the Alpha’s son is helping you find an Alpha husband.”

“Alright, and the ones you’ve sent me are the only ones available?”

Trey shrugs his shoulders and looks away from me. I can tell he’s not saying something.

“Tell me.” I brook no room for recourse in my voice.

“Tell her,” Violet joins in, using the same tone.

“There are others, but they’re not good enough.”

“I knew it!”

“Heather, you can’t marry any of them. It would basically sentence you as a broodmare with no control over your own life.”

I round on him, standing and ignoring the clatter of my chair falling behind me.

“At least I’d have a life! The person we choose could die on some full moon hunt, could be manipulated over time, or could even be hiding a different personality behind what you’ve learned with your little chats.”

“I’m sorry!” His voice is laden with panic, “I didn’t want you to have to marry someone like that.”

“Except it’s not up to you. I’m the one who has to live within that marriage. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“I can’t help it. You’re my—”

“Don’t you fucking dare say that I’m your mate. You don’t have any claim on me. You aren’t my father or brother, and the only reason my own father isn’t handling this is because you won’t let me speak to him.”

“Fine.”

“Fine, what?”

“I’ll give you the other files.”

“You better if you care about protecting me the way you say you do.”

“I do. I’ll get you the files as soon as I get home, okay? I promise.”

Violet stands up, then.

“Why don’t we leave you to eat in peace, and I’ll come back later for that fitting alone? " She looks at Trey.

“That might be a good idea,” I say quietly.

“Come on, brother. We have a lot to do when we get home.”

Trey follows her out but doesn’t say goodbye to me. I get a text when they’re long gone. It’s from him.

Trey: I really am sorry.

I make him sweat it out for a few minutes before I respond.

Me: It’s fine. I know you meant well.

Trey: That’s part of it.

Me: What’s the rest of it?

Trey: V’s right. I do wish it was me.

Me: I kinda do too. This whole process is exhausting.

Trey: Thanks for the vote of confidence.

Me: Just make sure I don’t end up dead, ok?

Trey: Deal.

Me: I’m gonna go destroy this hero now.

Trey: Sexy. I’ll be sure to add that to your profile.

Me: Please do.

After that, I put my phone in my pocket and did exactly what I said I would: dig right into that hero. As I eat, I think about the interactions that just took place here.

We keep thinking about this time crunch, and all I really want to do is go back to that night when Trey found me across from my parents’ house and finish what we started.

I keep coming back to that moment, feeling him stroke me until I come, riding his hand and wishing it was his dick. I haven’t been with anyone in my exile, not even a one-night stand.

I didn’t want to risk anyone falling for me or wanting more. I can’t have people looking for me. I’ve logged a lot of hours with that toy now residing in my suitcase.

That’s not the only reason my life has been lonely for the past five years. I can’t explain the connection of being with a pack and what it feels like to have that ripped from me.

A few days after I’d left, I felt it sever from me, like someone cut out a literal organ from my body without anesthesia. It had woken me from a dead sleep, and it took me days to recover from the pain.

Would that all be changed when I become someone’s Alpha in marriage? Maybe Violet’s right. Maybe I really do have a huge opportunity here.

When Trey becomes Alpha, I’ll have the same power as him. And when my husband dies (if he does before me), I’ll be free to marry another, but I’ll still be an Alpha.

When Trey finally sends me that file, I notice that most of the men he’d left out were ones that were older than his father. He probably hadn’t thought that older also means closer to death.

I’d only be obligated to do my marital duty on the wedding night. Once it’s consummated and the contracts are signed, I’ll have the power of an Alpha, and my new husband won’t be able to take that from me.

I have to trust that Trey has my best interests at heart, but I also feel like he hasn’t thought about this part. I send him a text outlining my plan and asking if he thinks it’ll work.

He doesn’t respond for a while. He probably thinks I’m insane. Maybe I am insane. When his response does come back, I’m relieved.

Trey: Let’s go for it. Who’s the unsuspecting victim, then?

I laugh out loud when I read it.

Me: I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to go through the file more thoroughly.

His response comes back almost immediately.

Trey: Let the games begin.

I feel a lot better about this plan after that. It feels like we’re moving forward with something real. This is gonna work. It has to work.