Johnathan

I take out my phone and pull up the listing for Mara. She has been removed from the site, but I screenshot it right before the auction came to an end.

I spent roughly half the money in my bank account on her. It’s way more than I can afford to waste on a she-wolf. I did not need someone like Mara. Technically, I can take any mate and declare her my Luna for my pack to be recognised by the council. But I wanted Mara.

Establishing a new pack takes a lot of money. Money I don’t have. The modern world destroyed a lot of packs. Humans are encroaching on our territories, and to keep the unknowns, as we call them, out, we have to buy the land that has been our homes for centuries.

The human authorities who are aware of our existence also keep increasing our taxes. They are convinced we’re rich even though most of us don’t even have a pot to piss in.

Douglas used the word heiress in Mara’s listing, knowing that a lot of Alphas are struggling to get by now and would jump at the chance to get their hands on a rich little she-wolf’s money. Insincere fuck.

It was a stupid move. I could have gotten a much better she-wolf for far cheaper. I shouldn’t have done it. I should have given up on her, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop. Douglas Smith is a multi-billionaire. Only a fool wouldn’t have taken that chance.

I’m getting by for now, but my money is running out. My pack is growing by the day and maintaining it is starting to cost more than I’m earning.

I own the entire town of Haven’s Crest. I bought it one dilapidated shack at a time, and turned this place into an irresistible tourist attraction. The humans spending their money here are barely keeping me afloat, and if I want to keep growing my pack, I need the land surrounding my town.

Unfortunately, the land belongs to the local government that purposefully inflated the price - they want us out of here. A town of vampires and werewolves on their doorstep makes doesn't sit too well with them.

I considered threatening or simply killing them, but there are always new, more corrupt humans to take the place of the ones I kill.

The fact that Douglas disowned Mara is a complication, but not an unexpected one. I already prepared for that contingency when I put in my first bid. I always have a Plan A, B, and C in place before I make any kind of move. I never make hasty decisions, and buying Mara was a calculated risk.

There are other ways to get my hands on BioGen and Douglas Smith’s fortunes.

Preston knocks on my door a minute or so after Mara leaves with Rhoda. I’m not happy that she’ll be seen with the whorehouse’s madam, but Preston thought that Rhoda was a good choice to make Mara feel more welcome here. Rhoda comes from a similar background as Mara, and my Beta figured they’d bond over their shared trauma.

My Beta sighs and slumps in the nearest chair. “So,” he says, getting right to the point. “What do you think of her?” Preston asks.

“Mara? She’s a little skittish. Quiet.”

“Can you blame her?”

“No,” I answer curtly. “But she-wolves like that…Lunas need to be authoritative.”

“She’ll find her way.” Preston replies with a sigh. “You are not going to…harm that poor girl are you?”

Like me, Preston is a rogue, but unlike other Alphas and Betas we did not grow up together, forming a familial trust bond. He has served me faithfully over the years, and I trust him, but I still keep my darkest secrets close to my chest.

He knows why I bought Mara. though He was the one who told me that Douglas listed her on the slave market.

“Johnathan?” Preston asks a little hesitantly. “The girl? You will be kind to her, right?”

“I won’t harm her. You should know better than to even ask me such questions.”

He’s asking because I started with pleasure houses and strip clubs. That’s how I make some of my money, but I have never hurt one of the girls who works for me, and all of my employees are there of their free will. I’ve never forced anyone to work in those places.

I hate it. I hate what I’ve had to do, but it was the easiest and fastest way to establish myself in Haven’s Crest, and now the income from my various establishments is just barely enought to keep my head above water. I want to stop doing it. Trading in flesh never sat well with me.

“She asked me about the bank card,” Preston says.

“Mara?”

“Yes. She wanted to know if it’s from you.”

“What did you say?”

“The truth. I know nothing about it.”

“It’s from her father. It’s not a lot. Enough to get her settled with the essentials. Less than I paid for her, actually.”

“How do you know that?”

I pull out a letter addressed to me and hand it to Preston. It doesn’t say much. In it, he simply asks that I’ll keep her safe and treat her better than her previous mate did.

That is where my Plan B comes in. Douglas cares about his daughter. Maybe not as much as he should, but enough to ask that I treat her well. That could be all I need to get my foot in the door.

“Hm,” Preston grunts when he’s done reading. “That’s interesting. The way he turned his back on her when he disowned her…I didn’t think he cared at all. Maybe Douglas Smith isn’t the cunt I thought he was.”

“Maybe not. Kyson’s a dickhead though. I’ve met him.”

“Yes, he’s not going to win any popularity contests,” Preston says with a chuckle. “Do you think Douglas really disowned Mara?”

“We have to assume that he did.”

“It’s a shame. We really could have used that money.”

I sigh and lean back, staring up at the roof. “What’s done is done, Preston. There’s no use crying over it now.”

“I know,” Preston says. “At least she’s pretty, right? I mean…she will be, once she heals.”

The photo Douglas used in his listing is of a younger Mara. I think she might have been seventeen, maybe eighteen, when it was taken. Clearly still more girl than woman. Her skin was perfect, unmarked by years of abuse, her green eyes sparkled with light, showing all the excitement her bright future held.

A future that was destroyed by her father and their asshole Alpha.

What I haven’t told anyone, what I’ll never tell anyone, is that her image alone called out to me in ways I couldn’t explain. Even if she didn’t come with the promise of a large inheritance, I would have kept bidding on her. There’s just something about her…

The call was even stronger when she sat in my office, rendered almost completely mute by years of abuse. I felt it. A connection that transcends words or understanding.

"Yes, well,” I say. “Pretty doesn't really pay the bills, now does it?”

"You can put her back on the market...see if you can recoup some of your money."

I glare at my Beta. "Have you lost your fucking mind? No!"

"I'm just saying-"

"And I'm saying no. What's wrong with you?"

Preston holds his hands up in a defensive motion. "It was just a suggestion, man. There are rich Alphas out there who will want her."

"I don't care! I will never sell her. Never. Bring it up again and I'll rip your head off your shoulders. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Alpha," Preston mutters under his breath.

"Good. You can go, and we won't talk about this again."

My Beta nods and wordlessly leaves the study.

I get up and pour myself a whiskey. This has been one hell of a long and disappointing day. I can't wait for it to end.

I stand in the window and watch the waterfall while I sip the whiskey. As the burning liquid slides down my throat, I try to convince myself that buying Mara was just a business decision and nothing more.

I almost believe it.

Almost.

Mara

I thought I’d enjoy my excursion into town with Rhoda, but I’ve been isolated for so long that all the people made me nervous.

Everyone seemed to know who I am. People stopped me to introduced themselves, welcomed me to the town, and asked me if I’m happy to be here, when the wedding would be, if I like the Alpha, and wanted to know who bruised me up. Who dared to touch a hair on our Luna’s pretty little head? Is your father happy with the new arrangement?

All questions I couldn’t answer, or didn’t want to answer

Rhoda was no help. She basked in the attention. Or perhaps people here are just like that and she’s so used to it that she didn't even notice. I couldn’t quite figure out which one of the two it was.

By the time we made it back to the mansion, I was exhausted and ready to crawl into a hole.

There was a time, not so long ago when I think about it, that I enjoyed going out. I was popular in school - no doubt because of my father's money - and I had no shortage of invitations to every party thrown by both humans and wolves. I loved being the centre of attention.

Today, it felt as if I tried to navigate a minefield. I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

In a weird way, I long to go back to my quiet, solitary house back at Red Ridge where my only company was the radio and vacuum cleaner.

Chad knocks and enters with my mountain of parcels. I haven’t shopped like that since I was eighteen and my father instructed me to get everything I needed for finishing school. He made sure that I bought the best of everything. It wasn’t for my sake. I realise that now. It was so he could show off his wealth to the Alphas.

The butler drops all my parcels on the floor, and says, “I’ll send an Omega up to-”

“It’s fine, Chad, thank you. I can put it away myself.”

My bedroom, which I figure won’t be my bedroom for long, is beautiful. I love the rustic interior. The bed frame and headboard are made from wood like everything else, and my window overlooks the town and the lake in the distance.

The antique wardrobe is in immaculate condition, as is the matching dresser and vanity. Even the bathroom is beautiful. The countertops are made from the most beautiful black granite which seems to sparkle in the light. The basin, made from some kind of stone, shower, and bath blends in beautifully with everything else.

It’s like living in nature without any of the inconvenience. The only thing that reminds me that I’m not inside a natural museum is the white toilet that stands out starkly against all the earthy colours.

“Supper is served strictly at seven,” Chad says and puts the last of my parcels on the floor. “Alpha Johnathan appreciates...punctuality,” the butler warns me.

It doesn’t happen a lot, but every so often, a glimmer of a warning shines through. Someone will mention something Johnathan doesn’t like, and everytime they do, I can see just the slightest hint of discomfort in their eyes, if not outright fear.

“D- does he dress for dinner?” I ask.

The butler’s entire face lights up as he smiles at me. “No. This is a home, not a palace. Alpha just keeps a strict schedule, that is all.”

I nod my understanding, and Chad quietly leaves my room.

My father always insisted that we dress up for dinner. I wore evening gowns from the age of thirteen, always dressing as if I was on my way to the prom. I never asked him why. I just assumed everyone did things that way.

When I moved into my own home, Lucas continued the tradition. I cooked every meal, but for dinner he expected at least a three course fare. There was never anyone to serve us, so not only did I have to dress up in slinky evening gowns every night, I had to serve my mate while wearing six inch heels and trying not to spill food on my expensive dresses.

Once, I accidentally upended an entire bowl of soup on a particularly expensive, red evening gown. Lucas grabbed me by the hair, and shoved my face into the tureen, almost submerging my head in the boiling hot soup.

He held me under until I blacked out. When I woke up, I lay on the floor, covered in soup, vomit, and blisters as big as my fist. The one on my forehead was so deep that I could see bits of my skull poking through the skin.

I shifted that night. Alone in my room. I was afraid I’d die if I didn’t.

Lucas came in to see my wolf, my beautiful Aria, and commanded me to shift back to human. I was healed, but it wasn’t worth the beating he gave me for shifting against his command.

I couldn’t walk for three days, and it took nearly two weeks for my broken wrist to heal - injuries that would have healed instantly if he’d let me shift.

And even then, he still wanted me to cook and clean for him. Broken hand and all.

Tears as hot as that soup burns the back of my throat, but I quickly swallow them away.

All of that is behind me now. Lucas is no longer my mate, he has no claim to me. He abjured me in front of witnesses, and even if he wants me back at some point in the future, he’ll need my permission this time because my father disowned me. Douglas Smith has no say over my life anymore.

I glance at my watch and realise, in horror, that dinner is only an hour away. I still have to shower, and I desperately need to change out of the wrinkly green dress. It’s starting to smell.

Alpha Johnathan may not have a dress code, but I’m fairly certain he’ll want me to look at least presentable when I join him for our evening meal.

Forty-five minutes later, I’m ready. I did my hair a little, curling it so it falls in golden red curls down my back, and dressed in a comfortable, but I hope suitable, dress that covers me from my neck to my toes.

I tried my best to hide my bruises with my limited supply of make-up, but I can still see the different shades of green, blue, and purple that colour my face.

I sigh loudly and decide to let it go. If I don’t leave now, I'll be late for dinner, and I do not want to upset my future mate before I know what kind of man he is. Many men make all sorts of promises until they trap you in a marriage, and then it’s game over.

It’s only when I leave my bedroom that I realise I’ve made a catastrophic mistake.

I have no idea where the dining room is. and time is ticking away.

With Aria being asleep, I have no way to track it down by smell. I’m practically human at this point.

There’s no one around to ask for directions either. When we came back up, the pack house was bustling with life, but now it’s as if the whole staff upped and disappeared into thin air.

Bile pushes up into my throat and my stomach cramps spasmodically. He said he doesn’t beat women….unless he has to. What if that ‘has to’ is to correct their behaviour?

“Mara,” Johnathan says from the bottom of the stairs.

I almost burst into tears when I see him.

“Why are you just standing there?” he asks.

He did dress for dinner to some degree. He changed out of his shorts into linen trousers, replaced his t-shirt with a button down shirt, and he's wearing shoes.

“I- I don’t know where the dining room is,” I answer

To my utter relief, Johnathan smiles. “It’s a big place. I know. I am just heading there myself. Come. I’ll show you.”

For a moment, I am frozen, unable to move. What if he’s only pretending to be nice? What if I join him and he sucker punches me for being too stupid to find the dining room by myself?

“Mara!” Johnathan snaps. “Right now. I don’t like being late.”

That gets me out of my frozen state. “Sorry,” I mutter.

Johnathan waits for me as I descend the stairs, his face pulled into a disapproving scowl. “I like things a certain way, Mara.”

Feeling bold I say, “I thought you said there are no rules. That I must merely conduct myself with the dignity of a Luna.”

“I told you that I don’t have specific rules for you. I never said that there are no rules. Imagine the chaos if I had no rules or laws.”

“Will you tell me the rules now?”

“No,” he says as we start to walk through the many hallways. “You’ve had a long day, so I decided that it can wait.”

“But what if I accidentally break one of your rules?” I ask, hating how timid and scared I sound, but simultaneously unable to stop it.

“Then I will inform you, and correct you.”

Correct me. Like Lucas did?

Johnathan's words leave me cold and terrified.

I escaped Lucas and his abuse, but now my future mate is threatening to 'correct' me. Lucas used to say that it was his duty to guide my behaviour. He said it whenever he beat me. "You disobeyed me, Mara. I have to guide you. How else will you learn?"

But Johnathan is twice Lucas's size, and probably twice as strong. He could kill me with a single blow.

I feel stuck. Trapped.

My life will never change. I will always be some Alpha's punching bag.

Maybe that's all I'm good for, anyway.

Mara

The dining room is one of the smallest places I’ve seen so far. It’s big enough to hold a six-seater table, carved by hand like everything else, a sideboard and serving trolley piled high with food and plates.

There’s enough room to move around, but no one’s going to throw any lavish parties in here. I get the feeling that it’s Johnathan’s private dining room, but somewhere in this massive mansion there must be some kind of reception hall for parties.

Wolves love to throw parties.

Preston is sitting at the end of the table with a lovely blonde woman next to him. She’s dressed comfortably in a strappy sundress. I remember when I was able to wear clothes like that. Jealousy tucks at my heart - not because the girl is a hundred times more beautiful than I am, but because she has the kind of freedom I’ve forgotten.

“Hello,” she chirps and sits upright. “I’m Ally, Preston’s mate. You are Mara right?”

I nod and smile at her. Like everyone else in Haven’s Crest, she’s almost uncomfortably nice. “Yes,” I say in a soft, demure little voice. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Johnathan loudly clears his throat and steers me to the head of the table. To the left of him and directly opposite me sits a boy who is almost an exact carbon copy of Johnathan. The only difference are their eyes. The boy has beautiful, clear, blue eyes.

He’s the cutest kid I’ve ever seen, with his chubby cheeks and fat little fingers. I forget all about the adults in the room and focus on the child. “I guess you’re Gregory, right? Your daddy told me all about you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says very politely. “Awe you my new mommy?”

My heart melts into a puddle of goo. I always liked children, but I have no clue how to answer his question. “I am not your mommy,” I say when no one else offers an answer.

“Do you want to be my mommy?” Gregory asks.

Feeling helpless, I look to Johnathan who regards us with an amused grin on his face. He leans over and ruffles the boy’s black hair. “We spoke about this buddy,” he says, his voice filled with warmth. “Mara and I aren’t married yet.”

The boy pouts a little and defiantly crosses his arms over his chest. “But you said when Mawa gets heaw she’ll be my mommy.”

I try not to grab the boy and run with him. I’ll happily be his mommy. I know what it’s like to grow up without a mother. Every child deserves to have a mommy who’ll love and protect them.

Johnathan looks at me, his face filled with consternation. No one’s ever looked at me that way, wordlessly asking for help.

“I’ll be your friend,” I offer up. “At least for now. How’s that?”

That seems to mollify the boy a little. He gives me a wavering smile, but I see the tears pooling in his lovely blue eyes. He’s trying very hard not to cry, taking in deep breaths as he attempts to get his emotions under control.

Johnathan shouldn’t have made promises like that to Gregory. I can never be the boy’s mother, not really.

Without thinking about it, I walk around Johnathan’s chair to the trolley and start to uncover the dishes. “Uh, what are you doing?” the Alpha asks.

“Serving you,” I say without missing a beat.

“No, you’re not,” he says. “Sit down.” He pats the seat to his right. The official Luna’s place.

I glance at Preston and his mate who are looking at me with matching shocked expressions on their faces.

I blush all the way to my roots. “I- I’m sorry,” I stutter. “I forgot. Old habits.”

“It’s all right,” Ally says. “Preston told me your ex-mate was a brute.”

Does everyone know? I don’t want people to know about my shame. I lower my gaze and walk back to my seat. At the same time, the Alpha gets up and pulls my chair out. I sit down and allow him to slide my seat under my ass.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Ally goes on. “A lot of she-wolves here fled mates like yours.”

I want to crawl under the table and die.

“That’s enough,” Johnathan says and retakes his seat. “Mara’s past is not open for discussion. How would you like it if we start to discuss your past, Ally?”

The girls blushes and goes very quiet.

A door swings open and Chad enters with a smile on his face. Wordlessly, he starts to take plates from the serving trolley, loading every dish with food, serving Johnathan first, then me, Gregory, Preston and last of all, Ally.

When he’s done he moves to the corner where he awaits any orders, his hands folded in front of him.

He may not dress like a conventional butler, but he behaves like one.

‘Bwoccoli?” Gregory says and pulls a face. “I hate bwoccoli.”

“Then don’t eat it,” Johnathan says as he picks up his utensils.

“It’s touching my food!” the boy protests.

“I hate broccoli too,” I say as I watch the petulant child. “Do you know what I like to do when someone puts broccoli on my plate?” I ask and start to plant the broccoli florets in my mash so they’ll look like little trees. “I like to pretend I’m a dinosaur.”

“Dinosaws eat meat. Like wolves.”

“Some dinosaurs eat vegetables. Did you know the biggest dinosaurs in the world only ate veggies? And we are not all wolf right? We are part human, so you need to eat your veggies so you can grow up to be big and strong like your daddy.”

I pull my hair back, lean over and grab a broccoli tree between my teeth before I suck it into my mouth. “Num num,” I growl softly. “I’m a dinosaur, eating my veggies.”

Gregory giggles and starts to plant his broccoli. I glance at Johnathan who is looking at me with a deep frown between his eyes. The way we’re eating is rude. Bad manners. “Remember,” I say quickly, “we can only do this when Daddy doesn’t have company over, or we’ll give away our secret.”

“Whatch ow secwet?” Gregory asks around a mouth full of broccoli.

“That we know vegetables makes the biggest, strongest Alphas in the world.”

I give Johnathan a sideways glance. The frown is gone and there’s a small smile on his lips. He gives me an approving little nod, picks up his knife and fork and starts to eat.

Even though I suddenly feel very vulnerable and exposed, I finish eating my broccoli like a dinosaur because it makes Gregory happy, and every time I snatch the vegetables between my teeth, he giggles and does the same.

When I’m done, I wipe my face and watch with satisfaction as Gregory does the same. Then we both pick up our utensils and dig into our food.

Everyone eats in complete silence. The only sound is that of knives and works scraping against the plates, and soft polite chewing. Johnathan only speaks once - to ask Chad for more wine.

It’s unnerving, and I’m so unsettled by the unnatural quiet that I don’t dare to open my mouth. My father was a stickler for proper table manners, but at least we made polite dinner conversation.

At eight on the dot, a middle-aged woman enters the dining room. “Master Gregory,” she announces in a thick accent that I can’t quite place, “it is time for your bath.”

“I want Mawa to do it!” Gregory protests.

I look at Johnathan who nods his approval. Frankly, I’m relieved to get out of here. Besides, I enjoy the little boy’s company. Children don’t see what adults see. They don’t judge based on appearance or rank. They simply accept people for who they are.

Gregory hops off his chair as I get up and runs around the table to place his sticky hand in mine. “Can you tell stowies, Mawa?”

“I’ve never tried,” I say as we walk from the dining room. “I guess we’ll find out together if I'm any good at it.”

As we leave, I glance over my shoulder at Johnathan. He's watching us go, his dark eyes unreadable. My heart clenches and my stomach roils. I wish I could read his mind. I can't figure out if he's pleased or disappointed in me.

Gregory tugs on my hand, pulling me back to him. His innocence, his easy joy—it’s so pure. So simple.

What I wouldn't give to go back in time, to be a child again.