I nudged Riley in the waist and whispered, "Look at that. Your Alpha is here to take you home."
She made a face like she'd tasted something sour. "Alpha? Please."
"My Alpha is calm, steady, adores his mate, and actually has decent taste," she shot back.
We burst into laughter, shoving each other like teenagers as we headed downstairs.
Harlan was waiting in the living room. His expression was dark, but the moment he saw Riley in the black gown, something flickered in his eyes. Surprise. Maybe even pride. He tried to hide it quickly.
I had heard the story. Janice had once served as caretaker to Harlan's grandfather, Mark Pearson. She saved the old Alpha's life. Out of gratitude, the elder forced Harlan into a marriage bond with her. A union built on obligation, not instinct.
No wonder it never felt right.
For three years, Janice lived in the Pearson estate like a shadow. Quiet. Small. Never daring to challenge the Alpha of the house.
