Unwanted By The Alpha Heir, Marked By The Northern King

Elois POV:

"Elois, there's something I want to discuss with you."

Alston's voice, smooth as warm honey, wrapped around me. His thumb stroked the back of my hand, his touch sending a familiar flutter through my stomach.

The air in his private greenhouse was thick with the scent of white roses, my favorite. Sunlight streamed through the glass panes, catching the gold in his hair and making his blue eyes sparkle. He had arranged everything perfectly. For me.

He poured a cup of Earl Grey tea, remembering I took it without sugar. The delicate china clinked softly, a sound that usually soothed me. Today, it sounded like a countdown.

My heart hammered against my ribs. This was it.

My fingers found the simple silver band on my right ring finger, a nervous habit. I twisted it, the cool metal a stark contrast to my heated skin. We had been courting for two years. This felt like the moment he would finally ask.

"The Lara Consortium made a very generous donation to the royal relief fund recently," he began, his eyes holding mine. "Two hundred thousand silver coins. Your family's generosity is commendable. Those funds will feed countless families in the flood-stricken territories."

I offered a small, modest smile. "It's our duty as part of the Rowe Pack. My mother could not bear to see children going hungry when we had the means to help."

"That donation," he continued, his voice dropping slightly, "is substantial enough for me to petition the Alpha King for a hereditary noble title for a family. The Crown recognizes such contributions to the kingdom's welfare as deserving of reward."

My breath caught in my throat. A title. For me? For my brother, Columbus? This would change everything. It would silence the whispers about my mother's merchant background. It would give us the standing we deserved within the Pack.

My eyes must have been shining with hope, because a gentle, knowing smile touched his lips.

"I want to give this opportunity to Carson."

The name hit me like a physical blow. The air in my lungs turned to ice. The greenhouse, once a warm paradise, felt suddenly cold and suffocating.

My smile froze on my face. "Carson?" I whispered, certain I had misheard.

He squeezed my hand, his grip now feeling less like a caress and more like a restraint. "Darling, you have to understand. Your mother's donation was made freely, out of kindness, and the Crown is grateful. But the title itself requires a name of impeccable lineage. Your uncle's influence in the Rowe Pack is indispensable. As the Pack's second-in-command, his support can make or break my claim to the throne. And unlike your family, Elois, the Rowe name carries no stain of commerce. It is old, respected, untouchable. If I elevate his daughter, using the goodwill your mother's donation has generated, he will be bound to me forever. The Pack elders will see a future Alpha King who honors tradition while rewarding generosity."

I snatched my hand back as if his touch had burned me. My elbow bumped my teacup, sending it tipping over. The hot liquid spread across the white linen tablecloth, a dark, ugly stain.

A chill, sharp and cruel, shot up my spine. "And what about me? What am I supposed to be in this arrangement?"

Alston sighed, a sound of strained patience, as if he were dealing with a difficult child. "You will always be the one I love, Elois. That has not changed."

He leaned forward, trying to recapture my hand, but I flinched away. "But the position of Luna requires a mate whose family name carries political weight without the taint of trade. Your mother's money will have funded the title, yes, and the Crown will always be grateful for her compassion. But the title must go to Carson. Her bloodline, your own uncle's bloodline, is beyond reproach. Your family's wealth is immense, but wealth alone cannot buy the kind of legitimacy I need. Surely you see that."

"So Carson will be your Luna," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "And I will be... what, exactly?"

His brow furrowed, a flicker of something-guilt, perhaps, or impatience-in his perfect blue eyes. "I will make you my secondary mate," he said, as if this were a grand concession. "It is the only way. I swear to you, Elois, my heart will only ever belong to you. The bond with Carson will be political-a transaction of names and titles. Ours will be real. Our children will be the ones I love."

"Secondary mate." The words were poison on my tongue. They tasted of my mother's eighteen years of quiet suffering in the Rowe Pack, of being the 'merchant's daughter' who was never good enough. My entire body started to tremble, not from sorrow, but from a rage so profound it felt like it would tear me apart.

I shot to my feet. The chair scraped violently against the stone floor, the sound ripping through the cloying sweetness of the roses.

I stared at his handsome face, a face I had adored, a face I had trusted. For two years, I had believed every whispered promise, every tender touch. And now I saw the truth: my mother's compassion had been twisted into a weapon. She had given two hundred thousand silver coins to feed the starving and shelter the homeless, and he was using that money, that act of kindness, to buy a title for my cousin while casting me aside. He wanted my family's fortune to fund his ambitions, my mother's goodness to grease his political wheels, and me in the shadows, waiting for scraps of his affection. My mother's gold was pure enough to feed the kingdom's poor, but my blood was too common to stand beside him. My family's money could buy a title, but only for someone else.

All the love I ever felt for him withered and died in that single, horrifying moment. All that remained was a cold, hard stone of disappointment in my chest.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "So my mother donates a fortune to save lives, and you twist it into a title for my cousin? You use her kindness to elevate someone else while you shove me into the shadows? The Lara fortune is only worthy of buying crowns for other people?"

His expression flickered-annoyance, impatience, the look of a man who had expected gratitude and received defiance instead. "Elois, don't be dramatic. This is how politics works. You knew what you were getting into when you accepted my courtship. A future Alpha King cannot marry for love alone."

"You're right," I said, my voice as cold and sharp as glass. "A future Alpha King cannot marry for love alone. But I will not be anyone's shameful secret. I will not be the woman you hide in the shadows while you parade my own cousin at your side, wearing a title bought with my own mother's charity."

I took a step closer, my amber eyes boring into his. The Alston I had loved was gone. In his place was a stranger-a greedy, calculating stranger who had looked at me and seen a vault to be plundered, not a woman to be cherished.

"You want to know what I see when I look at you now?" My voice dropped to a whisper, sharp enough to draw blood. "I see a man who is too weak to claim his throne on his own merit. A man who needs my mother's compassion to buy his political allies and my uncle's name to make his reign legitimate. You took her kindness and turned it into a transaction. You are not a king, Alston. You are a beggar in a prince's clothing, pocketing charity meant for the starving."

His face went white. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. No one had ever spoken to him like this. No one had ever dared.

I looked him straight in the eye. "There is no future for us. My future will not include traitors."

Without another glance, I turned my back on him. I walked away, my spine rigid, my head held high. Each step was a declaration.

He didn't follow. I heard him call my name once-a single, strangled syllable-and then nothing. The sound of the silver bell followed, summoning a servant. He was already retreating into his world of privilege and delusion, convinced this was nothing more than a tantrum.

"Timothy," I heard him say, his voice hoarse but regaining its command. "Go and inform Miss Carson that everything is settled."

A smug, brittle confidence was in his voice. He believed he had won.

As I stepped out of the greenhouse, the bright sunlight was blinding. It stung my eyes, but I refused to let a single tear fall. The pain in my chest was a living thing, a coiled serpent of fury.

He had just made the biggest mistake of his life. He thought he was dealing with a lovesick girl.

He was about to meet the heiress of the Lara Consortium.