Page 86 of Alpha's Exiled Mate
“Anna, you’re not eating,” Mother said at dinner, her eyes worried as she studied my untouched plate, her hand reaching for mine across the table.
“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing a smile, though food tasted like ash, my stomach knotted with grief, each bite a reminder of the picnic we’d shared, his laughter a ghost in my mind.
Nights were the hardest, my thoughts a relentless spiral of questions. Why did he leave? Was he real? If so, why did no one remember him? If not, how could a dream feel so true, my wolf’s bond so fierce, her howl so raw? She paced within, her growls a restless ache, her confusion amplifying mine, our shared loss a weight that crushed my spirit.
I threw myself into my duties, attending councils, greeting nobles, my movements mechanical, my smiles hollow.
“Your Highness, you seem to be in a bad mood?” a minister asked cautiously.
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice flat, a lie that fooled no one, my heart a barren field where hope had withered.
I avoided the places tied to Allen—the rose garden where we’d met, the stables where he’d brushed the horses, the meadow path to our oak—each a dagger to my heart, their beauty tainted by loss. Yet his laugh haunted me, his silhouette flickering in corners, only to vanish when I turned, a cruel trick of my mind.
“Am I losing my mind?” I whispered to my reflection, my face gaunt, my eyes shadowed, the girl in the mirror a stranger, broken by a love that might never have been.
Doubt poisoned my heart, eroding my faith in love. Was the soul-shaking rush I’d felt real, or a childish fantasy? Was my destiny a steady, unfeeling bond like the one I had with Raymond, a marriage of duty rather than passion? I withdrew, my silence a shield, dodging my parents’ gentle probes, brushingoff the maids’ attempts to lift my spirits with forced smiles and curt replies.
“If Allen was real, why abandon me?” I murmured in the dark, guilt gnawing at my core. “Was I not enough? Did I drive him away?”
Raymond noticed my change—my silence, my vacant stares, the light gone from my eyes. One afternoon, he found me in the garden pavilion, his face grave, his hands clasped tightly, as if bracing for a blow. “Anna, I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice low, his blue eyes searching mine with a quiet intensity.
We sat, the air heavy with unspoken truths, the pavilion’s lattice casting dappled shadows across his face. “Anna, I’ve loved you since we were children,” he said, his voice raw, his words spilling like a confession. “I know you’re hurting, I see it every day, but I’ll always be here, through anything. Marry me, and I promise to make you happy, to give you a life of joy.”
His eyes held such sincerity, a pure, unwavering affection that twisted guilt in my chest, sharp and unrelenting. He deserved a love as deep as his own, not the half-hearted affection I could offer. “Raymond,” I said softly, my voice steady despite the ache, “you’re my dearest friend, like a brother to me. But love—that heart-pounding, soul-deep feeling—I don’t have it for you. I never will.”
His face paled, a flicker of pain crossing his features, but he nodded, his jaw tight, his composure holding. “Is it someone else?” he asked, his voice quiet, searching. “Someone who changed you, who broke your heart?”
I laughed, a bitter sound that startled even me, my eyes stinging. “Maybe he never existed,” I said, my voice cracking. “Maybe I’m just dreaming, chasing a ghost.”
“Anna,” he said, squeezing my hand, his touch warm but heavy, “my feelings won’t change. If you ever reconsider, if you need me—”
“Don’t wait for me,” I interrupted, my voice firm, a plea for his freedom as much as mine. “Find someone who loves you with their whole heart, Raymond. You deserve that, more than anything.”
He held my gaze for a long moment, then nodded, a sad smile curving his lips, and left me to the silence of the pavilion, my heart both lighter and heavier, the weight of his kindness a burden I hadn’t meant to carry.
Three months later, the Kingdom of Valder in the East sent an envoy to propose a marriage alliance. It’s said that their prince wished to marry me to strengthen trade relations between our two nations.
Father summoned me to his study, his expression measured, his fingers tracing the edges of a parchment bearing Valder’s seal. “Valder is a formidable ally,” he said, his voice calm but deliberate. “This match would secure our eastern borders and open new markets, a boon for our people.”
“What is their prince’s name?” I asked casually.
“Alexander Valder,” my father replied, flipping through some documents. “He’s said to be a very accomplished young man.”
I nodded, my movements mechanical, my spirit hollow. “If you think it’s best, Father, I’ll meet him,” I said, my voice flat, devoid of hope.
Father’s eyes narrowed, concern etching his brow, his hand pausing over the papers. “Anna, are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft, searching. “If you’re not ready, your mother and I—we’d never force you.”
“I’m fine, Father,” I said, cutting him off, my tone clipped, a lie that tasted bitter. If Allen was a mirage, if love was a cruelillusion, what did it matter who I married? A prince, a pauper—my heart was already broken, my dreams dust.
The meeting was arranged for a month later, and I prepared with the precision of an automaton—selecting gowns, studying Valder’s customs and history, memorizing their court protocols. My actions were rote, my heart a barren field, untouched by anticipation or fear, my wolf silent, her spirit dimmed by our shared loss.
Then the day arrived, and I stood in the great hall, my silver gown a cold weight against my skin, my expression schooled into neutrality, a mask to hide the emptiness within. The herald’s voice echoed, resonant and formal, announcing the guest whose name I barely registered.
“Prince Alexander of Valder!”
Footsteps approached, measured and confident, and I lifted my gaze, my breath catching, the world freezing in a single, shattering moment. The man before me had Allen’s chestnut hair, his lithe frame, his graceful stride, each step a memory that tore at my heart. When his eyes met mine—those dark, gentle eyes I’d dreamed of, wept for, doubted—my heart lurched, a wildfire igniting in my chest, my wolf roaring to life, her howl a thunder that shook my soul.
Allen.