Mated To The Exclusive Alpha

HILARY

I walked as fast as I could away from the club, the stench stubbornly sticking to my skin as I seemed to still reek of the murky insides despite the quickly widening distance between the shady looking building and I. My stepmother, Esme, had made me go there to settle part of my father's gambling debt, which I paid from juggling multiple part-time jobs.

Making sure I was safe now in the open streets, I slowed my pace before sucking in a breath and looking up to the sky. I didn't fail to notice the weird glances that earned from a few passer-bys, but I couldn't be bothered at this point. I was feeling down, and I needed to talk to someone.

"Hey, mom," I started with a sigh, "It's your daughter again, your only one. I hope you're doing good up there..... and I just wanted to say that I miss you. I'm sure you already know, but I'll be getting married soon. I will be happier, I know I will. I just... I just wish you were here with me."

I bit down on my lip and faced the road again, engrossed in my thoughts. I was still a few blocks away from home when I caught the familiar scent of my mate, causing my wolf to howl inside me, elated.

'Mate' It called.

I picked up my pace, eager to meet him. He had promised just yesterday to come seek my father's blessings and my hand in marriage tomorrow. It made me giddy to think that he'd been too excited to let it wait anymore. Maybe he was here to get it done already, eager as I was.

He was the only one who truly cared about and understood me in my now cold and cruel world. The moon goddess had blessed me with him after years of torture from the people I called family. It felt like a dream when I found out that he was my mate and the next Alpha of his pack. My father had shouted at me and called me several names, including a liar when I'd revealed the identify of my mate, but when Dawson himself came around to announce it proudly, much to the annoyance and jealousy of my stepmother and sister, my father could only continue to stew in silent anger.

I felt my excitement grow with every step I took, knowing soon enough, we would be together, bound forever by an undying love. I almost tripped on the front stairs as I burst into the house, his name at the tip of my tongue, but I trailed off when I walked into the living room to meet his absence.

That was weird; he would always wait for me in the living room whenever he came around. I took another curious sniff at the air to confirm, and I was right. His scent was still thick in the air, making it clear as day that he hadn't left and was still around.

'Maybe he stepped out briefly to pick up a call or something.' I thought to myself before hurrying up to my room in the attic to try and find something more suitable to wear pending his return. I had just turned on my feet when I heard a sharp voice behind me, causing my smile to drop instantly.

"Hilary! Why didn't you tell me you were back? How did it go?" It was Esme, her signature scowl on her face, and I raised a brow.

"What do you mean by how did it go? Of course, I paid the money."

"Nothing else?"

I blinked back at her, wondering what exactly she meant by her questions. What else was there to expect from going to settle a debt? And that was when it dawned on me, the realization that she could've well sent me, hoping that something terrible would happen to me there.

I couldn't even bring myself to be surprised. Esme was the typical evil stepmother, and I hoped she'd end up like they always did in the fairytales.

I rolled my eyes mentally before muttering a reply. "No, mother. Nothing else happened," I had to rein my wolf back in. I couldn't risk talking back and beat up for it, or worse.... grounded. At least not right now, I had to see Dawson, too.

"Here," Esme said, handing me a tray that held a few snacks and orange juice. "Take this up to your sister. She'd mentioned she wanted a snack." She had a sick smile on her face at the end of her words, and I regarded her with a dubious look.

I had taken the tray from her and was headed in the direction of my step sister's room when I realized that the tray held two glasses of orange juice. I shrugged it off with a press of my lips. She probably had one of her 'suitors' over.

As I stopped in front of her door, I could feel a sense of uneasiness gnawing inside me. For whatever reason, I couldn't name, Dawson's scent was stronger here. My face pulled into an uncomfortable frown as my sister's moans filtered through the door. There was no mistaking what was going on in the room. Every cell in my body pushed me to turn away and not go into that room, but my feet were moving on their own, and my fingers wrapped around the doorknob against my better thinking.

My hands trembled with a crippling anxiety as I pushed the door open and was finally greeted with the sight that shattered my world into a million pieces.

Dawson, the one I loved more than anything in the entire world, my mate I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with after he got me away from here was locked between my sister's legs, hips moving erratically as he pumped into her like that was his sole purpose on earth. As if sensing my presence, Sara's head turned toward the door, and she locked eyes with me, triumph boldly written in her blue eyes as she let out an especially loud moan and arched into him.

Tears blurred my vision as I stumbled backward, my chest growing tighter with each passing second I was made to witness their intense lovemaking.

I heard a distant shattering sound, and it took me a minute to realise I had dropped the tray I was holding. The sound startled Dawson, and he finally paused his actions to look at me.

"I never took you for a voyeur, Hilary. How's it? Are you enjoying the show?" He said as he rolled off Sara's naked body.

I tried to speak, but all the words seemed to be stuck in my throat, like shards of glass. My airways were closing up, and when I finally got the words out, it was in a pathetic squeak, "Dawson..." I started, my lips trembling, "Dawson, I forgive you. I know this isn't your fault. Just.... Get dressed, and we can just go downstairs. We can still fix this. You can speak to my father and...."

My words were cut short by the abrupt laughter that cut through the air, his and Sara's, and it went on for a while as I stood dumbly by the door, "I think it's time to stop being delusional now, Hilary. Forgive me?" He chuckled darkly, "I never even asked for it to begin with, and are you really that stupid that you can't read the room? Even after this, you still believe I would marry you? You?!" He repeated condescendingly, raising his brows at me. "Gosh, I mean, who would really want anything to do with a goody two shoes who obviously has nothing to offer and wouldn't even let me play with you a little to atleast make my time worth it."

My hands were trembling, and my legs finally gave out underneath me. I fell to the ground, the broken glass and wetness from the spilled juice piercing my skin, but I had gone beyond physical pain. Nothing could compare to the heavy feeling in my chest, my heart feeling like it'd been put through a meat grinder as hot tears streamed down my face.

Had he always been this cruel, and I'd just failed to notice? And then, it hit me like a wave. The signs had always been there, but I'd always melted in the face of his sweet mouth and apologies. The first time he'd raised his hand on me, slapped me over a mistake I made-l, I'd cried myself to sleep, the days following it feeling like hell until he apologized and made me promise to not repeat the same mistake.

He also swore never to do it again, only to come back worse. He'd strangled me almost to the point of death when he'd seen me talking to another man, but that time, it did not take him as long to apologize. He'd even gone on his knees, with flowers and chocolate Sara ended up stealing. He confessed that he couldn't control his wolf, nor could he bear the thought of me with other men and I'd stupidly fell for it; even blushed wildly at the thought of his possessiveness and protectiveness, interpretating his irrationality as acts of love.

That night, I'd let him touch me in a way of apology when he'd insisted on kissing the bruises on my neck better. I didn't let it go any further, but all my other thoughts melted away. I forgave him; I always did. And it was comical how I was ready to forgive him right now.

"Shut the door when you're done with the theatrics," he finished before going back to kiss Sara, who giggled at his touch.

My wolf whimpered in pain as it watched our supposed mate shower affection on another woman.

The door suddenly slammed shut, almost catching my fingers, and I turned to see Esme, who was red in the face with anger. She slapped me across the face the second our eyes met, the sound of it echoing through the corridor.

"How dare you break my chinawares?" Esme spat, her voice dripping with disdain. "What's so shocking about your sister getting the better man, hm?" She asked with a scowl on her face, "You're about to get yours too, so stop being so desperate and acting like a dumb brat and come with me!" With those words, she fisted my hair and began dragging me along with her as she made her way downstairs.

I wanted to scream, to curl into a ball and cry my eyes out, but at the same time, I wanted to lash out in anger; to drag her by her hair and sweep the floors with her face before bashing every single one of her features in and see how she would like that, but all I could do was let myself get dragged around like a rag doll, my mind numb with pain. I didn't process any of her words until much later, when we were no longer moving after making it back to the living room.

"Wait a minute," I said, standing up from the floor on wobbly legs, "What do you mean 'I am about to get mine'?"

The smile that stretched unto Esme's features at my question had my stomach churning with a sense of foreboding.

Before she could give me an answer, the door swung open harshly, creating a loud bang when it collided with the wall. My father staggered in, reeking of the usual stench of booze and cigarettes, but he seemed sober when our eyes met, so I turned to him to find my answers. My heart thumped wildly in my chest.

"Dad, is it true?"

If he'd heard me, he did a perfect job at pretending he didn't as he silently walked into the kitchen without so much as a glance my way.

"Is it true that I am getting married? What man is she talking about?" I pressed on, and he slammed the cup of water he'd been bringing to his lips back on the counter with so much force. It startled me.

"Damn it, Esme! I told you to wait till dinner to break the news."

My jaw dropped at the same time, and my eyes widened in disbelief.

"Father.... H- How could you?" I stuttered out, tears welling up in my eyes.

He cast a quick glance my way before striding towards the living room, speaking as he moved. "It was our only choice, Hilary," his voice devoid of any emotions. "It was an offer we couldn't refuse. We were on the verge of losing everything to debt eitherways.

"HOW IS IT MY FAULT THAT YOU'VE GAMBLED YOUR ENTIRE LIFE AWAY!?" The words tumbled out of my lips like a dam burst open. "I've already lost so much from trying to help out because you just can't act right and bring yourself to stop, and now I'm being sold off like property?!"

The world spun for a while as his palm collided with my cheek with a force that sent me straight to the ground. "Enough of your foolishness, girl, and I will not let you speak to me like that!" he barked. "You are getting married, and you will leave this house tomorrow with your things as agreed."

"To- tomorrow?" I stammered, but didn't get a reply, only his shirt being thrown in my face.

"Take that to the laundry when you are done with this nonsense," he ordered before shifting his attention to Esme. "Is dinner ready?"

"No, I haven't started yet. She was throwing a tantrum, and I had to deal with it." She answered with a roll of her eyes.

I couldn't believe my ears. A tantrum?! I was throwing a tantrum?! Like she wasn't going to make me prepare dinner after everything that had happened.

As I sat there on the ground with my hands wrapped around my knees, Sara came down the stairs, her arm linked with Dawson's, and my eyes followed them as they walked.

"Daddy!" She squealed on sighting our father and ran to hug him.

"How's my favourite little lady?" he asked, smiling at her in a way he had never smiled at me.

"I'm feeling the best, Daddy! Look, Dawson proposed!" she announced, presenting her fingers and a ring that adorned her finger, caught the light of the room, and shined back with triple the intensity.

My father clapped Dawson on the back with a chuckle, "Took you long enough."

He knew; my father knew my mate had been involved with my sister the entire time. I was the only one left in the dark.

It turned out Dawson hadn't lied about proposing; I just wasn't the intended bride. My eyes landed on a knife on the kitchen counter, if only I could just reach out and end it all.

"Don't even think about it, dear sister." Sara's voice rang out as if hearing my thoughts, "Don't you think that would put us in a tough spot with your husband-to-be tomorrow?" She jeered, laughing out loud.

Everything suddenly started to move in slow motion after having moved too fast for a while. My heartbeat slowed as I began to gasp for air. I couldn't bear it any longer - the cruelty of the situation I'd found myself. I couldn't breathe, and it felt like the walls had begun closing in on me. I needed to breathe. And with that thought in mind, I ran out of the house, hands over my ears, as their laughter rang behind me in a mocking symphony.