Chapter 2

Two

JEA

“I don’t have much of a choice now, do I?” I eyed Bronte from the backseat once more as he pulled up to the unfamiliar steps.

I’d never been to the Cartalga family estate, but I supposed I should get used to it. I was going to be spending all my time here now, after all, and learning the intricacies of the battlefield was essential to victory.

“I have exactly one way to absolve my family’s debt to the Cartalgas–and every other family out for blood, for that matter. Father left the Bruchelli family with nothing, Bronte. If I’m going to keep you all safe and fed, this is my chance.”

I heard him sigh from the front seat for the umpteenth time, and I ground my molars together. Nervous energy clung to me, and I fiddled with the tiny clutch purse I would be using for the day. It held my small knife, my booking information, and several helpful items for emergencies–a syringe of sedatives, White-Out for a scuff on my shoe, a set of lockpicks, a wad of cash, and my lipstick, of course.

Become their new "queen."

“I’m just worried about you, is all. They've been the family's rivals since before you were born, Jean.”

I flicked open the compact I’d brought along as well, dragging a pinky under my eye to clean up just the hint of smudge from my eyeliner.

“When Cane Cartalga, ruling Alpha of all of Warchester, offers a chance, you would be a fool to turn him down. And one not long for this world as well.”

There was just silence after that. Bronte knew as well as I did how this was going to go. I was going to save what remained of my family, carry on his legacy as his Mea Luna Queen, and maybe find some happiness in there somewhere.

I’d heard the rumors spread about the Cartalga family since before I understood what they meant. And that reputation for multi-person units within the pack was promising. If I had to deal with the brash, renowned-for-his-violence Cane, then perhaps I could at least find some companionship in one of his betas.

The car pulled to a stop, and I waited for Bronte to circle around to open my door. I was more than capable of getting the thing for myself, but his station as my beta was the last thing he had. I couldn’t take that away from him.

When he did, Bronte offered his hand, and I took it with a sorrowful smile. Neither of us spoke, and when I was standing before the massive estate–the stone building looking like it had been airlifted straight for Europe–I straightened my spine, putting on the best resting bitch face that I could manage.

“Time to go to work.”

Unfortunately, there was no way I could be prepared for what awaited me when I walked up the luxurious front steps to the gargantuan double doors. The moment I stepped into the Cartalga Family House, my body went haywire. That scent that I'd picked up just once before was everywhere—cinnamon and old paper and pine.

Mine .

Oh, fucking hell. This was not what I needed. At this rate, I'd go into heat just by the smell alone, and placing the scent brought me back to the one time I’d met Cane previously. He’d come to the house, seeking out my father, and just like before, I couldn’t stop my brain from screaming out the call for him.

Mine

“Quiet, you,” I mumbled under my breath. I would not be going into heat or reacting to this ridiculous mating call one fucking bit.

It was just a bit of hormonal nonsense, after all. Scent matches didn’t really exist, and I wasn’t about to find mine in Cane fucking Cartalga. No, sir. Not even if behind that spicy scent, there was a fainter smell of leather and wood and maybe…frosting? Sweet wine? All of which made my mind double and triple down on its silent claim.

It’s nothing. You’re probably hungry, for fuck’s sake.

Seconds after entering, a butler in an impeccable suit greeted me at the door. “Thank you for coming, Ms. Bruchelli. If you’ll follow me, I will take you to the dressing chamber, where the attendants will assist you with readying yourself for today’s merger.”

I nodded once, offering a stern, nondescript expression. I knew exactly what I was signing up for, and I wasn’t about to act like some simpering fool just because the head of the Cartalga family had been interested in striking up an alliance with my family as opposed to destroying it.

The long hallway to the dressing chambers was beyond grand, with a checkerboard floor design covering the entire length of the hall in white and gold squares. My Louboutin heels clicked on the exquisite marble, and some small part of me was glad that despite everything else waiting for me, I’d been allowed to wear them.

These were the first splurge item I’d bought myself, and the Apostropha Petunia heels, with their floral, lace-like design, would certainly be appropriate for the day’s events. And the heels weren’t enormously high, either.

Beating against the floor in time with my hasty pulse, my steps carried me through another long hall as I tried behind the butler. Here, the ceilings stretched at least fifteen feet high, and there was a long river of turquoise that ran down the center of the floor. The water was so still and immaculate that it took me several minutes to realize that it was actually real and not a construction of teal marble.

It was barely wide enough to fit a person, but the long pool ran down the entire length of the hall and continued around the corner somewhere unseen.

Gold detailing and marble tilework covered the bottom of the water feature, reflecting the gold trim that covered every inch of the intricate filigree and crown molding throughout the house. Glowing sconces lit the hallway every few feet in combination with massive chandeliers that hung from the ornate ceiling–more accents of gold with large oval dials set into it, all backed with a teal that matched the tiles beneath the water.

I was brought into a room similarly decked out with massive white walls and gold filigree accents. The ceiling rose ever higher here and featured two enormous skylight-like windows at the very top. Bars of gold ran through them in perfectly straight patterns, even in the circular window, and arched windows ran around the room on every wall.

They all came together to create a space that was bursting with light, which was a good thing since there were not one but three ornamental trees growing in large pots scattered through the room. Their leaves were a soft white like the wall, and I knew they had to be the singular variety that the Cartalga family had preserved since the days of the ancient packs.

There were two oversized, tufted couches and a giant chair on three of the walls and a massive, California king-sized bed on the fourth. There was a balcony of sorts overlooking the bedroom area, where I could just make out a sitting area with several shelves full of books, and the floors reminded me of cracked pottery repaired with gold, veins of the stuff running through the white marble in immense, sporadic patterns.

“Please make yourself comfortable. I shall send the attendants to the guest suite now to help you with your attire.”

The butler left, and I scoffed under my breath. Of course, it’s just a guest suite. Jesus.

Reaching up, I slid a finger beneath the collar of my shirt, pulling it away from my skin. It was damn hot in here, and the suit that I’d chosen suddenly felt too constricting, damn near suffocating. I took off the jacket, draping it over the back of the chair in front of the massive vanity that sat next to the bed.

Before I could get comfortable on one of the loungers, the door to the suite opened, and a gaggle of beta women entered and began fluttering around me. They prodded and pulled at my clothes, maneuvering me into a champagne-colored silk robe and the chair at the vanity faster than I could process.

“Sit, sit, sit,” one of them said, her bright, sunny complexion far too much for a day like today. “We need to get you ready. All right, girls, let’s start with hair. The shoes are staying, and we need that gown up on a hanger getting scent suppressant aired out.”

I cocked a brow, looking up at the woman who was finger-combing my long, brown locks as they hung down my back, nearly touching my ass now that they were out of the twist.

“Scent suppressant? Why on earth would that be on the gown? Everyone already knows I’m an omega. Why does Cane–”

A tiny tug on my hair stopped my words, and I cast a withering glance at the beta through the mirror.

“Apologies, Ms. Bruchelli.” She ducked her head, her scent changing from the subtle vanilla of all female betas to that of burnt sugar. “I swear it was an accident.”

With a sigh, I nodded, reigning in the compulsory need to present myself as top bitch.

“It’s all right, um…I’m sorry. What was your name?”

Giving her a gentle smile, I held her eyes in the reflection before me, hearing the others get the gown out of the bag on the other side of the room. I knew I was snapping at her because I was terrified of how this would go, but I didn’t need to drop all my shit on her plate. I was sure she had enough duties to keep her anxious all day.

“Rory, mistress. Thank you.” Her smile brightened, and she reached around me for a slim, unmarked bottle. “And to answer your question, Mr. Cartalga ordered a scent suppressant on the gown because he does not want any unintentional heats to take place. He’ll be wearing them as well.”

My stomach clenched. But how stupid was that? This was a business arrangement. I had no reason to assume that Cane would want me going into a heat right away. He was a fair amount older than I was without a reported heir, but if this went through that concern would be reduced significantly. I could carry on his legacy for at least ten more years.

And Alpha virility never dissipated.

I didn’t have much to say after that. I just watched Rory go to work on my hair in the mirror. She seemed to pick up on my mood quickly enough, remaining silent aside from the few requests to turn this way or that. She asked if she was hurting me a few times as she pulled on my long strands of chocolate hair.

“Of course not.”

She smiled as I shook my head, completing her work on the updo. The truth was there was little anyone could do to actually harm me. My pain tolerance was high, even for an omega, which had impressed the slim number of partners I’d had in my life.

It had always been exceedingly difficult to find a beta among the Bruchelli pack who was willing to throw down with the Don’s daughter. I understood why, of course, but it certainly made for several heats passing without assistance.

Thankfully, omega heats were few and far between if they weren’t with an Alpha, particularly their scent match. But we all knew how rare those were.

“There you go. Beautiful. You’ll look so incredible in your dress, mistress.”

I blinked out of my head, shooing away my pointless thoughts, and met my eyes in the mirror. My hair had been swept up onto the top of my head in a loose chignon, face-framing sections left to hang near my eyes and ears. The sweeping curves created by the updo were lovely, and I had to admit that I was a bit curious to see how the entire ensemble would look together.

Hell, it’s your special day. You really should be more excited about the dress.

At that, the other attendants stole me to the other side of the room where said dress awaited me. A flurry of activity swirled around me as I was hoisted into my gown, which decidedly did not include putting on undergarments, and I was impressed by the scent suppressant. I couldn’t smell the vanilla of the betas around me, and my own fragrance was utterly gone.

Thought of that spicy smell I’d picked up upon entry hit me, and I hoped that the suppressants worked as well on the Alpha’s suit if that aroma was coming from him. Then, before I knew it, I was staring at myself in a full-length mirror.

In my wedding dress.

“Holy fuck.” The words tumbled from me, and the betas giggled.

Rory was quickly at my side, perfecting the last few touches, which included handing me several items necessary for a pack joining ceremony. A thin chain of white gold was secured around my hair with a long pin, an attendant secured a similar thin anklet on my right side, and finally, another wrapped a white band of fragile lace around my left thigh, tying it with a bow.

“There. You’re ready.” Rory smiled at me in the mirror, the other betas doing the same, and I was led from the room down the hall.

“It’s so wonderful to welcome you to the pack, mistress.” Rory bowed her head as she handed me off to another butler, who gestured down another long hallway still decorated with that slim river of water.

“I didn't have much of a choice now, did I?” I mumbled and then shook myself.

I was supposed to look the part today, and if I was going to protect the few people who survived in the Bruchelli pack, I needed to honor this agreement. It was the only way to ensure they would have a home, a place to get away from the harsh world that existed beyond these doors.

The Bruchelli pack would be no more, but the people who were a part of it would have their lives, and so would I. To an extent, at least.

But that’s what you do for your pack. You put them first.

At the end of the long hallway was a set of massive, creamy-white double doors. I was stationed before them and instructed to wait for my cue. I had to imagine it had something to do with the giant fuckers being pulled open, so I just nodded.

This was it. I was about to become the Mea Luna Queen of the Cartlaga pack.