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Chapter 3

  • Rose's POV
  • It looked like they were destined to clash but before things could escalate further, a commanding voice boomed forth, authoritative and powerful. "Enough!" My heart swelled with relief as I saw my father riding toward us on his horse, flanked by his beta Marcel and a contingent of guards.
  • As Father dismounted his horse, his hazel eyes blazed with fury. "Unhand my daughter this minute," he thundered. Damian's smile never wavered, but he released his grip on my wrist. I didn't hesitate, running to meet my father like a child seeking refuge. My long, thick blonde hair cascaded down my back like a waterfall, bouncing with each step. "Father!" I exclaimed, burying my face in his chest as I hugged him tightly, never letting go.
  • Damian's voice was silky smooth as he spoke, "I had no intention of harming her. She's my future Luna, after all." My father's expression darkened at the claim, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Go back to your pack, Damian. Why are you causing trouble here?" Father's tone was calm, but a hint of anger simmered beneath the surface.
  • Damian's response was unwavering. "I've told you many times before that I want your daughter to be my mate, my Luna. Our union would be beneficial for both our packs." Father's frown deepened, his voice taking on a stern tone. "She's told you several times she's not interested in being your mate. Do you want to force her to accept you?"
  • Damian's confidence didn't waver. "There's no one more capable or qualified to be her mate than me. Our union is necessary to mend the rifts between our packs. Surely you don't want to risk another war breaking out, do you?" The underlying threat in his words was unmistakable, and Father's expression turned icy.
  • "Should I take that as a threat?" Father asked, his voice low and even. He stepped forward, and his beta Marcel and the rest of the guards followed suit, their movements fluid and synchronized. The air was thick with tension, and it seemed a fight was on the verge of breaking out. I felt a pang of guilt, wondering if this was all my fault…
  • Damian's smile was unnervingly calm in the face of Father and his men's threat, as if the prospect of a fight was nothing more than a triviality. "I'm not one to make threats or back down from a fight, but I'm not the enemy here," he said, his voice measured. "Many of my pack members still bear the scars of the war, and their hearts yearn for blood and revenge. The only thing keeping them at bay is my control, but I don't know how long I can keep them contained. A marriage union between our packs could calm the storm. Think about it. I'll be back."
  • With that, he turned and walked away, his confidence unwavering. He cast a final glance in my direction before disappearing from view. As soon as Damian was gone, Father's expression softened, concern etched on his face. "Rosemary, how are you? Are you hurt? Did he harm you?" he asked, using my full name, a habit he'd developed since my mother's passing.
  • I preferred to be called Rose, but Father insisted on using Rosemary, saying it was a name my mother had chosen with love.
  • I sniffled, my emotions raw. "I was so scared, Dad," I sobbed softly. Father's arms wrapped around me, holding me close. "Don't be scared, I'm here. I won't let anyone harm you. You don't have to be afraid of him," he said, his voice full of reassurance. I hugged him tightly, feeling a sense of safety in his arms.
  • My father's concern was palpable, but what he didn't know was that my distress wasn't solely due to Damian's actions. The memories of the previous night's incident at the festival still lingered, and Damian's touch had unwittingly triggered those horrible feelings. I couldn't confide in my father about it, though – not when I'd snuck out to attend the festival against his wishes. The thought of his anger and disappointment was daunting.
  • Father turned to his beta, his voice firm. "Take her to her room." Marcel nodded, his response prompt. "Yes, my alpha." He assigned two guards to escort me, and I followed them, glancing back over my shoulder. My father was deep in conversation with Tristan, their expressions serious. I wondered what they were discussing, hoping Father wasn't reprimanding Tristan for today's events. It wasn't his fault, and a part of me felt protective of him. As I disappeared into the corridors, I couldn't shake off the feeling that this was far from over.
  • Tristan's POV.
  • As Rose disappeared from view, her father Alpha Stefan turned his attention to me, his eyes narrowing into a serious gaze. "You did a good job there, standing up for my daughter," he said, his voice low and even. "But Damian is a very dangerous man. You should be very careful around him."
  • I met his gaze, my voice unwavering. "I'm not afraid of him," I said truthfully. While Alpha Damian's formidable reputation and raw power were not to be underestimated – I'd witnessed firsthand the devastation he was capable of, particularly the toll the war had taken on my family – my determination to protect Rose eclipsed any fear I might harbor. The memory of losing two brothers to his wrath still lingered, but it only strengthened my resolve to keep Rose safe.
  • As I stood there, lost in thought, I couldn't help but reflect on the depth of my feelings for Rose. We had been childhood friends, despite being from different packs – I from the Moonlit Shadow pack, and she from the Crescent Moon Pack. Our bond was strong, and I had always cherished our friendship. But what Rose and everyone else didn't know was that my feelings for her went far beyond friendship. I had been in love with her for as long as I could remember, waiting for the perfect moment to confess my feelings.
  • Alpha Stefan's hand on my shoulder brought me back to reality, his words cutting through my reverie. "You're a good boy, and you'll make a fine Alpha one day," he said, his voice filled with a warm, paternal tone. "But my advice to you is to stay out of trouble, especially the kind you can avoid."
  • With that, he turned to leave, his beta, Sir Marcel and the other guards following closely behind...
  • Later that day
  • Rose's POV
  • My best friend Laura visited me in my room, concern etched on her face. "Hey, I heard that jerk Damian was here this morning and caused a scene. Hope you're okay?" she asked, sitting beside me on the bed. I shrugged, feeling a mix of emotions. "Yeah, I'm fine. Needed saving as usual. I just wish I had my wolf – maybe I could've defended myself."
  • Laura tried to reassure me. "Most people feel helpless around Damian, even with their werewolf powers." But I wasn't thinking about Damian. "I'm talking about the festival," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I was completely useless. I couldn't even defend myself." The memories of those men touching me made my stomach turn.
  • Laura's expression softened. "Do you want to talk about what really happened last night?" she asked gently. I met her gaze, and she added, "If you're not ready, it's fine." I took a deep breath. "I was almost...it was bad." Laura's eyes widened in shock as I recounted the events. I told her about the six men and the mysterious stranger with striking green and blue eyes who'd saved me...
  • Laura's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Really? He had two different eye colors?" I nodded, my thoughts drifting back to the enigmatic stranger. "Yes. I've never seen anything like it. He was...beautiful," I confessed. Laura's expression turned thoughtful, and I could tell she was intrigued by the story.
  • "So, what's his name?" she asked, and I felt a pang of sadness, realizing I didn't even know his name. "I don't know. He vanished before I could ask him anything. He said something strange, though – that I wasn't supposed to see his face," I said, still puzzled by the comment.
  • Laura's expression mirrored my confusion. "You weren't supposed to see his face? What did he mean by that?" I shook my head. "I don't know. I wish I could see him again, but that won't be possible."
  • Laura's eyes sparkled with interest. "Why wouldn't it be possible?" I looked down, feeling a sense of vulnerability. "How can I see him again when I'm not allowed to leave the house? Plus, I think my father is right – it's not safe for me out there. Without my wolf powers, I'm not capable of defending myself."
  • Laura's tone turned motivational. "That's not true. Humans don't have wolf powers, yet they walk around freely every day. What happened to you last night was tragic, but you can't let it define your life. You're young, and there are still many happy memories and experiences waiting for you. Don't give up on living."
  • Her words offered some comfort, but I couldn't shake off the feeling of vulnerability. "I don't know," I said, my voice barely audible.
  • Laura's eyes sparkled with determination. "You know what? Stand up, we need to go out." My eyes widened in surprise. "Out?" It was as if she'd read my mind. "Don't worry, we won't be sneaking out this time, and we won't go to a crowded place. We'll inform your father, and he can assign some guards to come with us. That way, we won't have to worry about safety."
  • I hesitated, unsure if it was a good idea. "I don't know, Laura..." But she cut me off, her voice persuasive. "Don't worry, everything will be fine this time. I want to help you replace this bad experience with a good one."
  • I raised a concern. "I don't think my father will allow me to go out, especially after the scene Alpha Damian made this morning." Laura's confidence didn't waver. "Leave that to me. I'll ask my father to help me convince yours."
  • To my surprise, Laura's plan worked. My father granted permission for us to leave the pack house, assigning four guards to accompany us with strict orders to bring us back before nightfall. As he kissed my forehead, his eyes were filled with concern. "Have fun, but be careful."
  • As we settled into the ornate carriage, the four guards fell into step behind us. I used to chafe against their constant escort, but after the festival, I felt a newfound gratitude for their watchful eyes. Laura and I chatted effortlessly, our conversation punctuated by laughter as we rode along.
  • I cherished moments like these with Laura, who had been like a sister to me since we became friends as children. Her family had taken me under their wing after my mother's passing during the war, when I was just two years old. I had no memories of my mother, but Laura's mom had become a maternal figure in my life, and I was grateful for their love and acceptance.
  • As the carriage came to a stop, I peered out at our surroundings. Before us stood a rustic structure, its wooden sign creaking in the breeze. The building was made of rough-hewn stone, with wooden beams and a thatched roof, torches on the walls casting a warm glow over the entrance
  • "Where are we?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
  • "A tavern, of course!" Laura exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
  • I raised an eyebrow, feeling a bit skeptical. "Do you think this is the best place to come to?" I asked, unsure if the tavern's rough-around-the-edges atmosphere was exactly what I needed.
  • Laura's mischievous grin reassured me that she had a plan. "Trust me, it'll be fun," she said, her enthusiasm infectious.
  • Before we entered the tavern, Laura turned to the guards. “You four wait outside. We'll call if we need anything," she said. The guards hesitated, but Laura's persuasive charm eventually won them over. I was used to her ability to get what she wanted, and it was impressive to see her in action.
  • Inside the tavern, the atmosphere was lively, with werewolves and humans mingling freely, unaware of the supernatural presence among them. Our arrival drew attention, and several patrons, mostly men, gazed at us, making me feel uneasy. Laura, however, seemed unfazed, striding confidently to the counter like she owned the place. She ordered food and drinks for us, and when she noticed me lingering behind, she tapped my shoulder. "Hey, living up?"
  • I forced a smile and began to survey my surroundings, taking note of the exit doors in case I needed to make a quick escape. But my gaze landed on a figure in the corner, seated alone and staring directly at me. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized him as the beautiful stranger who had saved my life. "Oh my God. He is here!"
  • "Who's here?" Laura asked, her curiosity piqued, and I struggled to find my voice. "T-the mysterious man who saved my life," I stuttered, my eyes fixed on him. Laura followed my gaze, her eyes landing on the man sitting at his table, now facing away from us.
  • "Wow, you're not kidding – he is gorgeous," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. But then she brought up a crucial detail. "Didn't you say the man who saved you had two different eye colors – blue and green?" I hesitated, doubt creeping into my mind. "Yes... I might not have seen right."
  • Laura's expression turned thoughtful. "Yeah, probably you didn't." I couldn't shake off the memory of his piercing gaze, though. I could've sworn he had heterochromatic eyes that night, but now they seemed to be a deep blue. Maybe I had imagined it.
  • Laura's voice snapped me back to reality. "So, what are you waiting for? Go say hello and thank him for saving your life." I felt a wave of shyness wash over me, my heart racing with nervousness. "I don't know if that's a good idea. I don't want to disturb him."
  • Laura chuckled and grabbed my hand, her grip firm. "Nonsense. Let's go meet him." Before I could protest, she pulled me toward his table, my heart pounding in anticipation.
  • "Hey, hello, gorgeous," Laura said, her voice dripping with confidence as we approached the man's table. I felt a flush rise to my cheeks at her boldness. The man's piercing blue eyes locked onto us, and I was struck by their intensity. They seemed to glow like crystals, otherworldly and captivating. Despite their beauty, I couldn't shake the memory of heterochromatic eyes from the previous night.
  • The man's calm, slightly cold voice brought me back to reality. "Can I help you?" I felt a pang of disappointment that he didn't recognize me, and my mind went blank. "I...I..." I stuttered, embarrassment washing over me. Laura jumped in, saving me from further awkwardness. "My friend here wants to thank you for what you did for her yesterday."
  • The man's gaze flicked to me and then away, his tone dismissive. "You have the wrong person." I exchanged a stunned glance with Laura. "Don't you recall? You saved me from those men in the woods last night," I said, trying to jog his memory. Perhaps he had done many things yesterday, and I was just one of many.
  • Without looking at me, he said, "I've never seen you or your friend in my life before." His words left me reeling. "That can't be possible," I protested. "It was you...you were the one I saw." I felt a growing sense of doubt – had I imagined the whole thing?