58 Randev with Randaya
Strangely enough, it wasn’t Randaya’s timid gaze I craved—but hers. Alina’s defiant spark, her sharp tongue. The fire in her eyes that never failed to challenge me.
The thought was fleeting, swept away the moment I saw Randaya descending the stairs. She looked breathtaking—elegant and graceful, every inch the young she-wolf a powerful alpha would be proud to call his mate.
"Hi," I smiled at the brunette, letting my gaze travel over the striking beauty of the young she-wolf.
"You look absolutely stunning tonight," I complimented her sincerely.
"Hi... thank you," she replied with a shy smile, lowering her emerald eyes demurely.
I offered her my arm, and she gently placed her hand on it. Together, we walked out to the car, headed for the evening's event.
The drive to the theater was quiet. Too quiet.
Randaya sat beside me in polite silence, hands neatly folded in her lap, her posture perfect. But it was beginning to wear on me. I felt like I was talking to myself. It was as if she had no interest in me as a person—not even basic curiosity.
"Randaya," I tried, keeping my tone relaxed, "why don’t you tell me something about yourself?"
She turned her head slightly, her voice soft and composed.
"Well… I am my father's only daughter and the hope of our pack for a prosperous future."
Of course. Of course she was.
"So... it doesn’t really matter to you who you marry?" I asked, genuinely surprised by how her story began.
"Why would you say that?" Randaya looked at me calmly. "My father would never marry me off to just anyone. He has many respectable and well-established acquaintances… men like you, Alpha Wayland." She gave me a gentle smile.
"And what about feelings? Aren’t those important to young women?"
"Sometimes duty comes before feelings," she answered, completely unbothered. "Emotions can come later."
"And what if they don’t? What if your husband has mistresses?" I couldn’t help but ask, intrigued—especially since the question was rather pointed in my case.
"That depends on the wisdom of the wife," she replied without hesitation. "Alphas and strong wolves are passionate by nature. Having lovers is a sort of necessity for them, and a wise wife should understand and respect that."
Her answer left me a little stunned.
Thinking back to Alina’s fiery, furious glare, I was absolutely certain—if she were my fiancée, she’d have ripped my balls off before I even finished asking that question.
The play was interesting, but I couldn’t fully focus on it. My mind kept drifting—to one relentless comparison.
Randaya and Alina.
After the theater, I suggested we go out for dinner and let Randaya choose the restaurant. But she didn’t care at all where we went.
At the restaurant, when it came to ordering food, she relied completely on my preferences.
Even the conversation topics—those were all set by me. I asked delicate, even provocative questions, and she agreed with everything. Whatever opinion or decision a future husband might have—she was fine with it. I even asked what she would do if her husband turned violent.
Her answer?
"A wife shouldn't provoke such a reaction in her man. But if she fails to avoid his anger, then a wise woman will endure."
I couldn’t help but think—if anyone ever dared raise a hand to Alina, they'd be flat on their back before they even knew what hit them. I’d seen firsthand what Bastian looked like resting at the feet of that redhead. And no, I didn’t believe her excuses that he just drank too much—not for a second.
And that’s when it hit me—if after just a few days in Randaya’s company I was already bored, then what would happen when we got married? After years together?
Let’s just say—having mistresses wouldn't be an option. They’d be an absolute necessity.
After returning home, I walked the young she-wolf to her room and we said our goodnights. Once in my bedroom, I pulled off my jacket, tore the bow tie from my neck, and threw it across the room. Dropping into the soft armchair, I rubbed the bridge of my nose in frustration.
What kind of life was I signing up for with this girl?
Would I end up howling from boredom and suffocating routine? Once, I might’ve thought that was enough. But now… now I felt like I needed something more—something wild. Like adrenaline.
I didn’t have much time to ponder. A knock came at the door.
With a lazy stride, I opened it—and there she was. Randaya, still dressed in that elegant evening gown, holding a bottle of champagne, a basket of strawberries, and two empty glasses.
She looked nervous, shy… but her teeth played with her bottom lip in the most seductive way.
And in that moment, I thought—maybe she isn’t so boring after all.
Maybe tonight will be… surprisingly interesting.