Page 102 of The Alpha’s Heir

36

Meg

The angry sky swirled with dark clouds and streaks of the setting sun, ignoring the remnants of the atmospheric dome that had once protected the human city.

I leaned against the marbled column on the front porch of the councilwoman’s house long after Roman left, fighting internally with my wolf who wanted to tear through my skin and run after her mate.

I still think you’re being stupid, she grumbled as I finally forced myself to step into the house once another wave of rain began to pelt the pavement.

Justus had run inside the minute we’d gotten here, ignoring the extra guards that stood as sentries on the streets of the government district and the two statues of men that were positioned outside the councilwoman’s house.

Just like Roman. The guards and military and waitstaff were nothing but accessories to these people. And I was powerless to change anything about this world.

Morrigan’s words rang in my ears as I stepped into the quiet foyer. I failed.

She set you up for failure.

I should’ve known better.

Morrigan had said the gods wanted suffering.

Was that the true sacrifice? Could giving Roman up and denying the mate call really have been enough to stop all this from happening? Had loving him destroyed the world? Roman didn’t seem to think so. He’d said we were doomed either way.

The alpha in me didn’t want to believe that. We had to have some power over our destiny.

If not, what was any of this for?

Pillar candles cast dancing shadows over the grand entryway. Something was different in the house, and it wasn’t just the absence of electricity.

I stopped on the staircase, smelling scents I hadn’t smelled before. There were strangers here messing up the clean scent of Katrina’s handiwork. I strained my ears, listening to the muffled voices coming from down the hall. The sitting room where I’d tried on my wedding dress—which felt like a lifetime ago—had closed doors.

Wonder what’s behind them?

My wolf urged me forward and I stepped lightly. There had to be some kind of sound-proofing behind those doors that I’d never noticed before, because I couldn’t hear as well as normal.

I took another step closer.

“Miss Meg.” Stephen met me in the hall with an iron candelabra lighting up his face, stopping my little investigation. “I was asked to escort you to the kitchen when you arrived.”

To the kitchen. I glanced back at the stairs, wondering if that meant I wouldn’t be welcome in the guest bedroom. Not that I blamed them. Other than Roman dropping me off, I had no clue what I was doing here.

As we passed slowly by the closed doors, I strained my ears.

“Mom, you don’t understand—”

“You will be married if it’s the last thing you do,” Helen’s sharp voice cut her son off.

There were others in the room with them. I could sense it. But apparently, I wasn’t welcome inside to discuss whatever was going on.

This was a mistake. My pack still needed me. Roman didn’t. The wedding was off. Morrigan’s warning rang clear in my mind.

“Go home, wolf.”

Not without our mate.

Stephen gave me a sympathetic smile as he led me further into the house, away from the fighting behind closed doors, and carried the candelabra to light our way.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Stephen pushed into the kitchen, motioning for me to take one of the counter stools as he set down the candles.