Chapter 12

Scarlett’s POV

I walk alongside Jasper, the sounds of the approaching banquet growing louder with each step. The lit Tiki torches cast his tall, elongated shadow over the cobblestone path. Mine is so much shorter by comparison.

"Jasper," I start, "I'm not quite sure why Lorien has invited me to this dinner. Will I be privy to wolf-pack business?" Only the pack council have been invited to this dinner, and here I am tagging along, 100% human. It just doesn't feel right that I should attend.

Jasper smiles, though there's a formality to it, "The Alpha has his reasons. Besides, he genuinely wanted you to be present."

Lorien...

His name alone sends a shiver of raw longing through my body. After I met him, I always thought of him from time to time. I didn't see him for a long time, and I felt a little bit lost. Every time I think of him, sparks shimmer along the surface of my skin. Why is that? His dark hair and penetrating gray eyes takes over every corner of my mind, cracking open my hidden desires with their burning intensity.

I changed three times tonight, wondering what he would want me to wear. Finally I settled on something chic, but casual. Most of the pack weras jeans and T-shirts. I chose the same, not wanting to stick out anymore than I already am.

As we enter the grand hall, it's clearly a special occasion. The room vibrates with conversation and the clinking of glasses. Before I can take it all in, a dominating figure draws my attention.

Lorien's father. He has to be, he looks just like him except his hair is longer, shaggier ,and gray at the temples. The same height, or maybe an inch or two shorter than his son, he seems a stern, imposing man with etched frown lines on his face. His eyes roam over the crowd, asserting dominance. I shiver inside my jacket. The room feels chillier with him in it.

When his gaze meets mine, he offers a nod that lacks warmth. "So, this is the human Lorien speaks so highly of?"

If I had known I'd meet Lorien's father, I would have worn something better than jeans and a white peasant blouse. I attempt a courteous smile. "Yes, my name is Scarlett, sir," I say, hoping he will take the hint and not refer to me as “human” all night. The way he said it made it seem like a slur instead of the name for my species.

Without waiting for further introductions, he turns to a delicate-looking woman with wispy brown hair and submissive eyes, "Make sure the guests are comfortable. And bring me a beer while you're at it.” Non of it is being used by this part of city. As we can do it

She nods, her voice soft, "Of course, my Alpha."

His overt domination doesn't sit well with me. Is this the same path Lorien will tread? Would he expect the same submission? Well, he won't get it from me. I'm no colorless dish rag.

I'm lost in my thoughts when I suddenly feel a firm grip on my waist. Instinctively, I'm about to pull away when I glance up and lock eyes with Lorien. The mere sight of him sends a heat surging through my waist, and I struggle to maintain composure as I nearly melt into his arms. As if he'd predicted my reaction, he slips his arm around my waist, anchoring me securely.

Lorien joins our group, and his touch electrifies me. I lean into him, finding solace and protection against the penetrating gaze of his father. "Father, Scarlett is my guest tonight. Please treat her with the respect she deserves."

The elder wolf raises an eyebrow but says nothing. The tension is palpable, but the night wears on.

Conversations blur into a background hum, surrounding me with the ebb and flow of pack politics and trivial chatter. Yet, in the midst of the conversations, a jarring thread becomes clear.

A young female, her skin pale and eyes bright, approaches the older wolf with a tentative question. Instead of offering a simple answer or acknowledgment, he dismisses her with a curt wave of his hand, his eyes not even granting her the courtesy of a glance.

Nearby, another female, older and bearing the lines of many seasons, serves food to the males, her head lowered, never meeting their gaze. The males don't thank her, they don't even acknowledge her labor, simply digging in with fervor.

The glaring disparity in treatment toward the females is unmistakable and I find it repugnant. Every condescending gesture, every ungrateful nod, further underscores the disdain and perceived superiority of the males toward the females.

My heart burns with a mix of anger and empathy, and I clench my fist beneath the table, silently fuming.

"Scarlett, you seem distant," Lorien observes, a hint of concern in his voice.

I glance around, determined to keep the anger of the injustice from my voice. "It's just... the dynamics. It's so different from what I'm used to."

He smiles knowingly, "It's our way. But I understand it might be a lot for you."

A lot? It's unsettling. And yet, looking into Lorien's deep eyes, there's an attraction I can't shake. It's maddening. Why him? Why me?

I take a deep breath, steeling my nerves. "Lorien," I whisper, captivated by the intensity of his gaze.

His lips curve into a smile that does crazy things to my heart rate, "Yes, Scarlett?"

"Why do you want me as your Luna?" I ask tentatively. "I'm human."

He lightly takes my chin in his hand and gazes into my eyes, searching for something within me. His scent wraps around us and I feel myself melting into him.

"Because you have the strength and courage of a real she-wolf. At the auction... I couldn't take my eyes off you," he murmurs, his voice holding a deep reverence for me. "You understand hardship and pain but still, you rise above it with determination and grace."

Tears prick the back of my eyes as I take in his words. He sees the real me - the person underneath all the hurt and anger - and he values her despite our differences.

He leans closer, his warm breath tickling my cheek and his scent making my nostrils flare. His fingertips softly caress my face as he speaks again in a low rumble that only I can hear: "Besides, when something feels right, you don't question it." He inches forward, his sculpted lips so close to mine...

"I need some air," I murmur, my head spinning. Lorien had been about to kiss me!

"Wait," he says, but I've already begun weaving my way out of the hall.

Under the moonless night, cold air nips at my skin. I left in such a hurry, I'd forgotten my jacket inside. I couldn't go back. Not yet anyway. I needed this welcome reprieve to get my head on straight. To think of the implications of nearly kissing the Alpha.

If I were smart, I would go somewhere neutral-the home for single she-wolves wasn't far away, maybe I can find some solace there, think things through.

I start to walk, instinctively rub my exposed forearms, trying to generate some warmth. "Damn, why'd I forget my jacket?" I mutter to myself.

"Heading out without protection?" A voice mocks from behind me. I turn to see a young beautfiful woman, her form unstable from what I suspect is too much alcohol. "Seems a bit chilly for that, don't you think, cute human?"

I shoot her a glare. I've never seen the female before, but then again, I just arrived here one day ago. "I'm fine," I snap, irritation boiling in my veins as I bypass her.

"Lost your way, tiny human?" she taunts, enjoying this game too much.

"None of your business, but I know exactly where I'm headed," I fire back, holding my ground.

She chuckles, leaning in slightly. "Oh? And where's that? Running off to lick your wounds? Did Lorien grow bored of you already?*"

Anger surges within me, but I try to keep my voice steady. "What's it to you?"

Her smirk is infuriating. "*You think you're special? You're not the first, you know. Lorien's had plenty before you."

The hurt from her words catches me off guard, making my pulse race. even as my heart sinks. "What do you mean?"

"Every night, a new one. You're just flavor of the week," she jeers.

Anger and humiliation bubble up, but before I can react, a familiar voice booms, "Enough."

Lorien's appearance is like a storm. "What did you just say to her, Jasmine?"

Jasmine, brazen in her disdain, spits out, "She's human, Lorien. Worthless. You need a real Luna."

A growl escapes Lorien, "You dare?"

"It's the truth!" Jasmine persists, "Reject her. She'll bring our downfall."

I'm frozen in place, the weight of her words crushing. Do they all feel this way?

Lorien's fury is unmatched. "You'll regret those words."

Without warning, he seizes Jasmine, dragging her to the center of the hall.

Jasmine's eyes widen in fear. A heated tong, forged by a witch and bearing the mark of the pack, is heated by a blow torch until it grows red. Lorien rips Jasmine's dress to expose her shoulder and brands her with a deep and permanent mark into her forearm.

The hall falls silent, all eyes on the scene. My stomach churns. Is this their justice?

Lorien hands off the brand to a pack member, while Jasmine, weeping tears of pain and shame, is led off by a few of her friends. Lorien rakes a hand through his hair and turns to me, his expression softening, "Scarlett, I won't let anyone disrespect you."

My voice trembles, "That... was harsh."

"She deserved it," Lorien says firmly. "And I had to do it. It's the only way they'll respect you."

But I can't reconcile the violence. And I don’t want their respect through this.

"I need to go."

He reaches for me, "Please, understand. This is our way."

Pulling away, I whisper, "And that's the problem."

With each step away, my heart feels heavier. Maybe this world, with its wild laws and raw emotions, isn't for me.