Dahlia.
But on a positive note, my husband did call me his wife. Something I didn't expect. I mean, he's never acknowledged me as anything other than a cre.epy human—no, scratch that—he usually just treats me like I'm an unwanted houseplant. He doesn't even wear his wedding band, probably because the thing is too busy collecting dust in some drawer. And we didn't even get to do that fancy wedding ritual I saw at that one girl's wedding... what was her name again?
A gentle tap on my shoulder pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. I turned to find Raider sitting next to me, all smiley and friendly, which immediately set off alarms. This guy was as unpredictable as a plot twist in a soap opera.
He began signing, "I'm sorry. I know you're mad at me. I'm not after your soul. I don't mind if you don't sell it to me. I'll always treasure you, Dahlia."
Wait, what? I blinked. When did he suddenly become fluent in sign language? Yesterday, he was signing like a toddler trying to put together a puzzle, and today he's signing like a pro. Was there a "Sign Language for Dummies" book I missed?
I stayed quiet for a moment, a bit impressed by his skill and, honestly, kind of touched by his words.
"Please," he signed again, looking all earnest and sincere.
I took a breath and signed back, "Is my soul that important?"
He spoke this time, "I would be lying if I said no."
Well, great. So, that's why my husband hasn't tried to off me—he's just waiting to bu.y my soul like it's some exc.lusive collector's item.
"Is that why he hasn't k!lled me?" I asked, feeling the dramatic weight of the question.
Raider furrowed his brows, clearly thinking I had just asked him whether the sky was blue or not. "He's not going to k!ll you. He may have tried to do so, but if it failed, he certainly wouldn't try again."
Wow. A failed m$rder atte.mpt? That's comforting.
"He's really your ex?" I asked, unable to resist. There was just too much mystery around my husband's history. Maybe Raider's backstory would shed some light on why my husband had such a special ha.tred for me. What if he hated women in general? But then again, he's nice to Billie, and Victoria didn't seem like she was facing an existential cr.isis.
"Yes, he is," Raider said, grinning like he had just won a game of chess. "You're curious, aren't you?"
I nodded eagerly. "What would you like to know?" he asked, almost as if he were offering a guided tour into the depths of his soul.
"Everything," I signed, my hands practically begging for the truth.
"Would you prefer if I used sign language or words?" he asked, clearly pondering the best way to deliver the goods.
I pointed to my lips, hoping he'd take the hint. "Words," I signed back, then added with a hint of sarcasm, "You know, I like hearing things... with sound."
Raider chuckled and then began his tale, as I waited for the juicy details that would help me understand just what kind of man had made me his wife—and whether or not he still secretly wanted to mu>rder me for a soul contract.
~~~~~~~~~
Raider.
Rath and I had a history as long as the line at a free buffet. It all started at Alphas College—an elite institute for future leaders in the Alpha community. Our packs were rivals, like cats and dogs, except more territorial and less cuddly. At first, Rath seemed like a walking iceberg—unapproachable, cold, and about as friendly as a brick wall.
Then came the annual moon shift, and the plot thickened faster than a pot of instant noodles. My father was assassinated, and our pack was under attack. Amid all the chaos, explosions, and "OMG, am I going to d!e today?" moments, Rath showed up like a brooding hero in a slow-motion scene from an action movie. He saved me from a rogue assai.lant, and in the process, I learned that his inner knight in shining armor didn't come with a giant ego (or maybe it did, but I was too grateful to care).
As the night turned into a disas.ter movie, with more explosions than I could count, Rath and his pack turned into giant wolves, swooping in like a rescue team in a Netflix documentary. Their powerful wolf forms were the only thing standing between us and total ann.ihilation. After I got patched up from my injuries, Rath and I—against all odds—became unlikely friends. Then, as fate would have it, our bond turned into something deeper... and probably something we shouldn't have let happen.
I was telling Dahlia this whole story when her eyes widened like she had just discovered the secret recipe to the world's best chocolate cake.
She didn't say a word, just gave me that "triangle method" stare that both mesmerized me and her husband. I could feel the tension between us, but who could blame me? She looked like she just walked out of a high-budget fantasy movie, and I was starting to feel like the clumsy sidekick who trips over his own feet.
Then, Rath's war.ning about Dahlia popped into my head. Could he seriously expect me to keep my distance from someone so... da.ngerously gorgeous? It didn't seem fair. I had no idea whether the pull I felt toward her was good or bad, but it certainly wasn't easy to ignore. It was like a gravitational force with no clear direction, and I couldn't stop wondering if the universe was playing a prank on me.
"Why did you break up?" she asked, her glare serious and searching, like a detective trying to crack the case.
I froze. How could I tell her the truth—that he'd be.trayed our entire kind by planning to marry a human? That made my bl00d b.oil just thinking about it. The idea of choosing a human over us—the ones who shared his bl00d, his fight, his love—was too much to bear. Inshort he dumped me to marry her. It hurt at that time but now, it doesn't.
"I che.ated on him," I blurted out, the lie slipping from my lips faster than a greased pig at a county fair.
Dahlia raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing like she'd just caught me trying to sneak candy into a movie theater. "We were both caught up in our own lives, and it just… happened," I continued, trying to smooth things over like I was making up a bedtime story. "That's why we broke up."
"Do you still love him?" she asked, her hands shaking slightly, like she was about to cry. And let me tell you, I wasn't ready for that.
Did I still love him? Despite everything? Of course I did. My heart still ached for the man who had shown me the kind of love I thought only existed in fairy tales—before it got horribly twisted. "Yes," I whispered, feeling like I was about to shatter into a million pieces.
Her lips pressed together in a thin line, her emotions swirling like a storm. She turned away, trying her best to keep it together, but I could see the storm brewing inside her. It wasn't over. It was never over.
I gently turned her face back towards mine, her tear-filled eyes meeting mine. "I could step aside for you, if you'd like. After all, I'm just a human. The most des.pised person amongst us," she offered.
Her words hit me harder than I expected, like a punch to the gut. Seriously, who needed a kn.ife when you had a human soul being offered up for sla.ughter? I wanted to tell her she was so much more than just some human, but somehow I couldn't find the words. The pain in her eyes spoke louder than anything I could say.
She'd always struggled to fit in, hiding behind that calm, collected exterior. But underneath, I could sense all the things she had buried deep inside. Meanwhile, I had been floating through life with no real struggles, just basking in success, popularity, and occasionally tripping over my own ego.
In that moment, her world seemed so much heavier than mine, and it made me want to fix it, even though I had no idea where to start.
But one thing I was sure of: she wasn't stepping aside for anyone. Not on my watch. She was Rath's wife, and that was the end of it. No amount of insecurity, no matter how deva.stating, would change that. I wasn't about to let her feel like she needed to shrink just because of a little thing like being human.
"You don't have to step aside for anyone. You are his wife," I said firmly, hoping she grasped the reassurance in my words.
Her eyes flickered at me, then she signed, "Do you do the bending?"
I blinked. Okay, was that a question about flexibility? Did she mean "bending" like yoga-style bending, or… that kind of bending? My mind briefly did a double-take. But then I realized what she was asking. She's curious to know if I'm the top.
"Oh! You mean, does Rath bend to me?" I laughed. "He does. He just doesn't like to admit it." I gave her a wink.
Her surprised expression was priceless. I couldn't help but chuckle. There was something endearing about her — like she had no idea how cute she was when she tried to be serious.
My phone buzzed, and I reluctantly glanced at it. "Studio appointment," I sighed, "I'm going to have to leave, unfortunately."
I handed her my phone, and she scribbled down her number. Then, as I stood up to leave, her hand brushed mine. For a moment, as our hands touched, I felt a sudden surge of tension, like my internal defense mode had been activated. I couldn't help it — the instinct to protect myself kicked in.
Maybe it was because I wasn't used to a human touch this intimate, or maybe it was just the fact that I was dealing with someone that captivating. But I quickly dismissed it, telling myself it was just a weird fluke. Nothing to worry about. Right? I mean, it was just a touch. But why did it feel like my heart was trying to run a marathon?
I hesitated for a second. Wait, was this just me getting caught up in the moment, or was she actually that magnetic? After all, Rath's wife, remember?
Before I could walk away, she grabbed my hand again, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you for talking to me," she signed.
I couldn't resist. I leaned in and kissed her palm, like some kind of melodramatic hero in a romance movie. "You're welcome," I said softly, my mind already wondering what kind of trouble I'd get into next. That feeling to turn into defense mode kicked in again. I need to get used to her.
"She will be mine. Eventually. I don't care when or how. I'm sorry, Rath, but Dahlia's soul is my prize." Yeah, that sounded a little too dramatic, even for me. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling.
With a final glance at her, I turned to leave, but not before reminding myself to work on my exit strategy. Maybe without the whole soul-snatching part, though.