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Ruthless Alpha, and his Curvy Saint-Chapter 27
Angel’s POV
I sat on the log by the fire, wrapped in Uriel’s oversized coat, feeling like a child playing dress-up in her father’s clothes.
The bread in my hands was fresh and warm, but it had no taste in my mouth. Every bite required conscious effort to chew and swallow.
Around me, warriors ate and talked in low voices, their conversation filled with rough laughter. They were massive men, all of them - scarred and battle-worn, with eyes that looked like death.
I kept my gaze fixed firmly on my bread, trying to make myself as small and unnoticeable as possible.
No one spoke to me. No one even looked at me.
I told myself that was fine. Preferable, even.
But the loneliness sat heavy in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Movement near the edge of camp caught my attention. One of the warriors - Gareth, I thought his name was - approached with three people in tow. A tall elderly man with weathered features, followed by two young women.
"Listen up!" Gareth called out, his voice carrying across the camp. "We’ve got travelers joining us. Old man Zach and his daughters, Lyra and Sera. They’ll be traveling with us to Black Wolf territory. Treat them with respect."
The old man nodded respectfully at the group, his daughters standing on either side of him like bookends.
They were beautiful.
Breathtakingly, impossibly beautiful.
Both girls had the kind of slender, delicate figures I’d spent my entire life wishing for. Lyra, the one on the left, had dark hair that cascaded down her back in perfect waves. Sera, on the right, was blonde, and her hair gleamed like spun gold in the sunlight.
They wore traveling dresses that somehow managed to look elegant despite the road dust. Their skin was flawless, their features perfectly symmetrical, their bodies the exact opposite of my own soft, rounded form.
They were everything I wasn’t.
Everything I could never be.
But they were also women. Female company in this sea of intimidating male warriors.
Maybe, just maybe, I could talk to them. Make friends, even.
I looked up and smiled - a tentative, hopeful expression.
Both girls’ eyes swept over me briefly.
Neither returned my smile.
Sera’s gaze moved past me like I was invisible, already scanning the warriors with interest. Lyra’s lip curled slightly, just for a moment, before she looked away with obvious disinterest.
The familiar sting of rejection hit me like a slap.
Of course.
I should have known better. Should have remembered that beautiful girls never wanted anything to do with me. That I was the girl other girls avoided, the one whose presence somehow tainted their own social standing.
I recoiled back into myself, shrinking into Uriel’s coat like it could protect me from the shame burning in my chest.
This was exactly how it had been in my village. The pretty girls would see me coming and suddenly remember they had somewhere else to be. Would whisper behind their hands and laugh when they thought I couldn’t hear.
Some things never changed.
After the introductions, I watched Lyra walk away immediately, heading back in the direction they’d come from. The old man and Sera took seats on one of the logs across the fire, accepting bread from one of the warriors.
I forced myself to look away, to respect myself enough not to seek approval from people who clearly didn’t want to give it.
I focused on finishing my bread instead, chewing my food, trying not to feel the crushing weight of loneliness pressing down on me.
When the last bite was gone, I sat there awkwardly, unsure what to do next. Should I get more food? Go back to the tent? Try to find Uriel?
Then every hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
The air itself seemed to thicken, pressing against my skin with an oppressive weight.
I knew, without looking, who had just sat down beside me.
The monster.
My body went rigid. Every muscle locked in place, torn between the desperate urge to run and the paralyzing fear that kept me frozen.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Around us, I heard the scrape of boots on dirt, the rustle of clothing. The other warriors were dispersing, moving away from the fire with the kind of movement that suggested they knew better than to linger when the Alpha wanted space.
I started to stand, my legs trembling.
"Sit."
One word. Quiet, almost conversational.
But it carried the weight of absolute command.
My legs gave out and I dropped back onto the log like someone had cut my strings.
I stared straight ahead, refusing to look at him. Refusing to acknowledge his presence even though I could feel the heat radiating from his massive form, could smell the metallic scent of old blood still clinging to his clothes.
The clothes I’d stained with his blood when I’d stabbed him.
Over and over.
And he hadn’t even flinched.
He cleared his throat, and the sound made me flinch. "So. You’re the bride the Moon Goddess destined for me."
Bile rose in my throat.
Over my dead body.
I wanted to scream it. Wanted to spit in his face. Wanted to tell him I’d rather die than be tied to the man who’d murdered everyone I loved.
But fear kept my mouth shut.
"I’m not sure what to do with you just yet," he continued, his voice almost thoughtful. "You’re not the kind of woman I had in mind for myself. Not my type at all."
The words should have hurt. Should have stung with the familiar pain of rejection.
Instead, they gave me courage.
"Then release me." I channeled every ounce of hatred into those three words, making them sharp as knives.
He chuckled - a low, dark sound that made my skin crawl.
"I’ve considered it," he admitted. "Whether I keep you or let you go will depend entirely on how you behave during this trip."
I dared a glance at him from the corner of my eye. He was staring at the fire, his scarred face impassive, giving nothing away.
"If you behave well," he said slowly, "if you refrain from trying to murder me or any of my men again... I’ll let you go when we reach Black Wolf territory. You’ll have your freedom."
Hope flared in my chest, bright and desperate.
"But," he continued, and that single word doused the hope like water on flame, "if you play any games, if you cause any trouble, if you step one toe out of line..." He turned to look at me fully, and his eyes were cold as winter. "I’ll marry you. And I’ll make absolutely certain you suffer for the rest of your life."
The threat hung in the air, sharp and unmistakable.
"Now get out of my sight."
I didn’t need to be told twice.
I stood so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet, already moving away from him, away from that oppressive presence, away from the man who held my future in his brutal hands.
I walked aimlessly, not caring where I was going, just needing distance.
Behave. Just behave.
Seven days. Maybe less. Just had to survive this journey without causing trouble, and I’d be free.
Free to go where? Free to do what? I had no idea.
But anything was better than being tied to that monster for the rest of my life.
Relief flooded through me, so intense it made me dizzy. I’d expected demands. Expected cruelty. Expected him to claim his "rights" as my supposed mate.
Instead, he was offering me freedom.
All I had to do was put away my anger and grief. Swallow my hatred. Behave like a good, obedient little girl.
I could do that.
I had to do that.
I needed to tell Uriel. Needed to share this news with the one person here who actually seemed to care about me.
I walked toward the edge of camp, following the path Uriel had taken when he’d left me at the fire.
I was almost at the entrance when I stopped short.
Uriel stood there with Lyra.
The dark-haired beauty was pressed close to him, her hand on his arm, her body angled toward his in unmistakable invitation. She was smiling up at him, saying something I couldn’t hear, her lips moving in what looked like a purr.
And Uriel...
He must have sensed my presence because he turned, his dark eyes meeting mine across the distance.
For a moment, we just stared at each other.
Then a loud voice boomed across the camp: "Let’s move out! We have a long day ahead!"
The spell broke.
I turned and walked back the way I’d come, my steps shaky, my vision blurring slightly.
You shouldn’t be hurt.
But I was.
You shouldn’t care.
But I did.
He’s a handsome man. A beautiful man. Of course he’d prefer someone like Lyra.
Someone slender and pretty and normal. Someone who wasn’t betrothed to the Alpha
Someone who wasn’t me.
I’d been living in my imagination like an idiot. Had let one kind conversation, one gentle smile, one moment of seeming interest convince me that maybe - just maybe - someone could actually want me.
What a fool I’d been.
Beautiful men didn’t want girls like me. They wanted girls like Lyra - confident and seductive and everything I could never be.
I wrapped Uriel’s coat tighter around myself, suddenly wanting to take it off, to throw it away, to stop breathing in his scent with every breath.
But I couldn’t.
I had nothing else to wear.
So I’d stay wrapped in the coat of a man who’d shown me kindness I’d mistaken for interest, while he entertained beautiful women who actually deserved his attention.
The story of my life, really.
Always wanting what I could never have.
Always hoping for something that was never meant for girls like me.
I found an empty spot near the horses and sat down heavily, pulling my knees to my chest.







