“Of course, Alpha.”
The intercom clicks off.
My arms cross at my chest as I stand in the middle of the room. “I have clothes, Lucas. I don’t need new ones.”
He faces me and smiles softly. “I know.”
“Then why—”
“Because I have to show your position in this pack.” He walks over to me and gently tilts my head back with his finger under my chin. “Establishing you as luna right now is very important. You are my mate, the love of my life.” My heart flutters at his matter-of-fact tone. “They need to know that, so nobody can point a finger at you.”
I don’t know how to feel. A few days ago, maybe I would have been thrilled. But a small part of me is struggling. It wants to hit him, to rage at him, to make him hurt for how he hurt me. But another part of me blames myself. It knows none of this is his fault. So, where does my anger go? Where do my feelings go?
An hour later, the wardrobe arrives.
Two trunks and a hanging rack. Staff members lay it all out across the chaise and the bed. Silk. Cashmere. A dress in a deep green that I would have drooled over in the window of a boutique and walked past because of the price tag. Three pairs of shoes whose soles I do not even need to flip over to knowhow exclusive the brands are. A coat with a lining that costs more than any car I’ve ever bought. There are also practical work clothes made of high-quality material, so soft to the touch that I want to sink into them.
The staff leave. My eyes move over all the clothes.
“Lucas, really? Is this really necessary?”
He is leaning against the closed door with his hands in his pockets. “Yes.”
“Lucas—”
“Less than a week ago, I was still engaged to Lydia.” His voice is quiet. “Now, you are my mate. Your position in this pack at the moment is precarious. There will be people who think you trapped me. There will be people who think Lydia was wronged. There will be people who think you slept your way into the luna’s seat.”
I flinch.
“Anyone with that thought, I will close their mouth before it opens.” He pushes off the door and crosses the room. “The first thing they think when they look at you should be exactly what you are to me. Precious.”
He stops in front of me. His hand lifts and takes my chin between thumb and forefinger.
“Sienna.” His thumb moves once. “Do you have any idea how much I held back, when all I wanted to do was bury you in luxuries? Drown you in jewelry? You wore a dress to that dinner with the Vasquez delegation two weeks ago, and I had to sit on my hands for the entire meal because the sapphire I would have picked out for that neckline was burning a hole in my desk drawer.”
My breath catches.
“Let me have this. Just this. The hell I put you through, I get to make up for. And the pack will learn to respect you the moment they see how important you are to me.”
His eyes are too close to mine.
“Fine,” I mutter. “Do what you want.”
The corners of his mouth lift, and his fingers release my chin. He turns around, and I think he is going to leave, but mid-stride, he picks up the green dress from the chaise and holds it up to my body. He nods, like he has confirmed something.
“Green,” he murmurs.
“Lucas.”
“Mm?”
“Stop.”
“If you insist.” The dress drops back to the chaise, and Lucas’s steps carry him out the door.
Once he is gone, my body sinks to the edge of the bed.
My hand drifts up to my collarbone. I know the black mark is still there, quiet under my fingertips.
