Word Count: 1679

~Lavelle

I rush to Mel's carriage, skirts in hand.

Hardly able to breathe, I clamber inside, my vision blurry. The corset of this dress has practically melded into my skin, ready to leave permanent lines as a reminder of this auspicious night.

I settle into the cushioned seat with a huff, looking down at my hand which trembles.

The ring is large and fat; another heirloom, no doubt. I've sealed myself to Avi, I'm finally getting confirmation that I'm to live the life I always dreamed. I should be happy.

I deserve to be happy...why am I not happy?

The carriage lurches, ready to take me home. I managed to convince Avi to allow me another night to prepare before I move into my own suite in the palace tomorrow.

My entire life is going to change. I'm about to become-

My gaze snags on a pair of black boots in front of me. One look up, and I see Zyre sitting on the seat opposite me, clearly having been there the entire time.

"Ah!"

"Oh calm down, it's only me." He waves his hand languidly, lounging on the seat like I'm the one intruding on him.

Resting my hand against my chest, feeling my wildly pattering heart beneath, I force myself to breathe. This isn't some kind of assassination attempt, it's just Zyre coming to terrorise me once again.

"Is that supposed to be a comfort?" I press back against the wall of the carriage. "Leave, right now."

He gestures out the window. "The carriage is already moving."

One glance tells me he's right, and I've been too engrossed in my thoughts to truly realise we're heading home.

While I would quite enjoy watching him throw himself out of the moving vehicle, I don't think I could convince him to do so.

"Why are you here?" I question, exasperated.

If he's going to be in here for the journey into the village, I may as well dig into his intentions.

"Why didn't you stay the night with your betrothed?" He questions, folding his arms over his powerful chest.

He no longer dons the violet cloak, wearing the black ensemble that was underneath. I eye the silver buttons, a flame etched into each — his home packs insignia.

"Everything is changing for me. By tomorrow, I'll be living in the palace and..." I wave my hand languidly. I'm so tired.

I'm to be Luna. I'm actually going to marry Avi.

"You want one more night of freedom." Zyre watches me keenly. I can almost feel that gaze reaching deeper than flesh, seeing my apprehension for what it is.

I must remind myself that he isn't on my side. He is keeping dark secrets of his own, and I don't want to get close enough to find them out. Once he is gone from my life, he can stop infecting my thoughts, making them stir with doubt.

"It doesn't matter. Why are you in my carriage?"

"You've been avoiding me, and I thought we could speak." He folds his hands on his lap expectantly.

I adjust in my seat, knocked off kilter by the carriage undulating over rough terrain. "I told you, I do not wish to speak to you."

"Too bad, for I have a lot to say." His gaze hardens. "Do not marry Avi."

There he goes with that again. He is adamant about it.

"Why not?"

"This life, it is not meant for you. There is so much you do not know." He grimaces. There is something else he wants to say, but either he's choosing not to, or he can't for some reason. "You should leave tonight. Pack your belongings and flee to another pack."

My brows rise. He wants me to leave this pack? A pack I've grown up in, that I have a life in? He must have gone mad.

"No. I can't..."

"You must." He isn't relenting. The intensity at which he says the words and holds my gaze is starting to stress me out.

"Do you not believe I am suitable for your cousin? Does my lack of wealth offend you that greatly?" My throat tightens.

He sweeps a hand through his hair, sending the dark strands in different directions.

"Once you marry Avi, all of your choice will be gone. You cannot end a marriage to an Alpha here. He will control every element of your life," he insists sturdily.

He's telling me this as if I'm not aware of how marriages work here. I know the risk, but I've already decided he's worth it. I trust that marrying him will be good for me. Zyre simply cannot bear to see me or Avi happy.

"You're filling my head with poison. You're doing this to spite him," I hiss. "Or you simply don't believe I'll be a fitting wife."

He makes a deep noise low in his throat, shaking his head. Every angle of his face is harsh and unforgiving in the dim, although it's his eyes that unnerve me the most. There is no give, no mercy in them to be had.

"You're more than fitting to be a wife. Just not his, and not..." He drifts off, seeming to realise himself.

"And not whose?" I ask warily.

He sighs raggedly, pinching his brow.

"Why will you not heed my warning?"

"I have no reason to trust you," I remind him sharply. "I've been waiting my entire life for some good luck. Now, I finally have it, and I'm not letting it go."

How is it that everyone seems to be against me, against this marriage? Only Mel supports me, and Avi, of course. It's unbelievably exhausting having to bat away these dissenting judgments constantly, when no one is aware of the intricacies of our relationship.

"This is hardly good luck," he mutters.

I sink back against the cabin wall, ire racing beneath my skin. "I hate you. I hate that you're trying to do this."

"If you leave now, in less than a month you'll be thanking me."

I want to laugh at the absurdity of his claim. If he didn't look so serious, I would accuse him of teasing me. Or perhaps he's lost his mind and I'm dealing with an insane person.

"If I leave now, you cannot call on my debt to you," I remind him coldly. Even if he believes he's doing me a favour, why would he feel motivated to?

"I couldn't care less about that, Lavelle," he breathes. "It benefits me greatly to have you marry Avi, believe it or not, but against my better judgement, I'm telling you to run for your life."

I pause, eyeing him sceptically.

"Why does it benefit you?"

A muscle in his jaw ticks. "If you don't stick around, you'll never have to find out."

I rub my arms, suddenly cold. It's the tension in here, his mood, that seems to have plummeted the temperature in here. I don't like how this conversation is making me feel, as he brings my doubts to life right in front of me.

"And that's a good thing?" I ask.

He nods grimly. "More than you know."

The carriage jolts to a stop suddenly. I didn't even realise how much time had passed as I pull the curtain back to reveal the front of my house. I was too busy talking to Zyre to realise I should have tossed him out on the roadside before I let him find out where I live.

"Shit, you need to stay in here," I say nervously, tugging the curtain back before he can look out.

He eyes me warily. "Why?"

"Just...I don't need you to see my house. I'll talk to the coachman and he'll take you back to the palace." I crack open the door, nudging myself through it.

Zyre seeing my home is another piece of me he gets. I know almost nothing about him, yet he is unravelling my life like a spool of yarn that gathers relentlessly at his feet, exposing everything I've kept hidden for years.

"Great. We can continue this conversation inside."

"No—"

He hops out of the carriage beside me, boots landing in the soft dirt of my driveway. My fingers bundle into fists as he looms over me, looking at my house that is shrouded in shadow.

Suddenly I'm mortified by the broken shutters and chipping paint. The garden out front is massively overgrown, half the lawn has turned to mud from the recent rain.

He settles his hands on his hips. "So this is it, huh? I quite like it."

I scowl at him. Liar. The house has done me just fine, but it's not exactly a thing to behold. Zyre comes from an upbringing of pure luxury, his home pack being incredibly wealthy.

Suddenly, my front door clatters open, a figure burst out into the night toward us.

It's Neela, my father's nurse. I found her when she was healing miners where I work, down trodden and desperately trying to earn money to support her daughter. We grew fairly close, and to this day, she's been the only person I've trusted with him.

She rushes toward me, panic spilt all over her face. The moment she realises Zyre is standing beside me, she stops short.

"Lavelle, may I...oh."

"Is something wrong, Neela?" Whenever she is stressed, it's usually a bad sign.

She glances between me and Zyre, looking reluctant to say anything. I go to tell her not to, but she speaks before I get the chance to say it.

"It's your father, miss," she says under her breath, like he might not catch it.

Zyre's attention snaps to me. "Your father?"

Fuck.

"You did not hear that," I tell him pointedly, before I look back at the nurse. "Speak to me about this inside, Neela."

I grab her arm, pulling her back toward my house. I'll deal with Zyre later.

She looks up at me, the blood drained from her face. "It is urgent, miss. He's extremely unwell."

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