The Mad Alpha's Substitute Bride-Chapter 46: In My World

(CORRINE)

It’s dark outside when I open the door. Winter in this human city isn’t very cold. It’s definitely not as frigid as the weather in the Northern Kingdom.

Tupperware in hand, I’m not sure if I’m making the right decision, but the guilt was preventing me from enjoying my own meal. Finn is occupied with Sigrid, so I am able to slip away unnoticed. I don’t intend to do anything other than give Locke the food and leave. I have no plans to talk to him.

When I approach the park across the street, I see that Locke is sitting now. He’s so huge—all pure muscle, not an ounce of fat anywhere, that he takes up two-thirds of the bench. Considering he’s been fighting at the border nonstop, it makes sense.

He gets to his feet when I approach him. I don’t say anything as I hold out the food container.

He gives me a long look and then accepts it. But when I turn around to leave, his hand grasps my wrist.

"Sit."

His tone is somewhere between a command and a request.

I glance toward my house and notice that from here, he can see the dining room table where Sigrid and Finn are still talking. That’s why he changed positions, I realize. He was watching us eat.

Without him.

I can feel my wolf’s misery, its confusion, its distrust, and its yearning.

When I don’t move, Locke repeats himself, "Sit," adding with some difficulty, "please."

I don’t think I’ve ever heard him use that word before. I didn’t even think it was part of his vocabulary.

Reluctantly, I sit down beside him. Since this is a residential area and it’s late in the evening, most families have settled down for the night, so the street and the park are empty. It’s quiet out here, and the street lamps are the only source of light.

Locke opens the Tupperware and sniffs it.

"It’s not poisoned," I say brusquely.

He glances at me. "I didn’t say it was. I was just smelling it. Didn’t know you could cook."

"I can cook just fine. Finn’s well fed, isn’t he? "I don’t know why I’m being so rude. I feel defensive and irritated.

"I’m sure my son has a strong stomach, like me." There’s a hint of pride in Locke’s voice, and he takes a bite of the roasted meat. "This is good." When I see that he looks surprised by this, I bristle, and his lips twist in a smirk.

"You look like an angry cat."

"Excuse me?!"

His smile fades. "Was that the wrong thing to say?"

"I’m not a cat."

"I didn’t say you were. I only meant—"

"Just eat," I say tightly.

He plucks out a potato and chews it. After a few minutes, he says, "Food is different here."

"It’s the spices," I reply shortly, crossing my arms over my chest and trying not to watch him eat.

He nods and takes another few bites. We sit together in silence, but I feel on edge. I keep waiting for him to say something. A sharp retort is ready on the tip of my tongue, but he says nothing. He just eats in silence, as if the meal were his whole focus.

When I steal a look at him, his eyes are on Finn, and he’s smiling slightly.

I break the silence. "He’s stubborn. Argumentative. Always has to have the last word."

"He’s a handsome boy." Locke sounds pleased. "A little spoiled, but that’s to be expected. He didn’t have me around."

There it is.

I turn to face him. "I raised him just fine—"

"Yes, you did."

At his words, I stutter to a stop.

"He looks happy," Locke comments. "Confident. I was around the same age when my parents were killed. Every day was a different battlefield. I don’t remember ever feeling safe or happy after they passed. I had to grow up fast. I’m glad my son will have his childhood."

I study the man. This is the first time he’s ever mentioned his parents to me. The wistful look on his face wrenches my heart. "You had Sigrid, didn’t you?"

The words are torn from me, and Locke gazes at the small container in his hand. "That’s right. I had Sigrid. But she was just a maid, and my enemies were powerful people."

He lifts his head to look at me. "I don’t want my son to be raised away from me, Corrine. I know you love him, but he is of royal blood, my blood. You don’t understand how strong our wolf lineage is. The Locke royal family are warriors. Our wolves become unpredictable as we get older. As he continues to grow, you won’t be able to control him. He needs a firm guiding hand. He needs his father."

My mouth turns dry. "But—But you didn’t have anyone to help you. And you turned out fine."

"I lived on the battlefields for years. I was nine when I had my first kill. The bloodshed and the constant fighting helped me control my wolf. Warrior breeds among our kind are known for their bloodthirsty nature. They respond to carnage and dominance. Do you want Finn on the front lines?"

"No!" I jump to my feet, horrified at the prospect of my son having to face the vicious monsters I escaped in the Misty Forest.

Locke watches me, and the serious glint in his eyes makes my heart sink.

"You mean it," I breathe, frightened, as I sink back down. "Finn’s wolf—"

"He’s still young. If he spends time with me, his wolf will instinctively recognize mine as the dominant wolf. It will be easier to teach him how to control his animal. We are not humans, Corrine. We’re shifters. We have beasts within us. We can try all we might, but we can’t vanquish the animals that live inside us. We can pretend to be human, but at the end of the day, we aren’t. And warrior wolves cannot live among humankind. Our beasts are the most unpredictable. If Finn loses control of his emotions one day, he will wreak havoc in this world." His expression is grim. "There’s a reason the Veil exists. There’s a reason why the Human Wolf Kingdom is so small. The wolves that reside on this side of the Veil are not as strong as the ones on the other side."

"Erik never told me any of this," I whisper, my heart pounding in my chest.

"The manipulative fool probably thought he could control our son’s animal. But Erik is not of warrior blood. Ultimately, Finn’s wolf will be more dominant than his. If you don’t believe me, you can check the royal libraries. I’m sure you have access to them here, given your relationship with Erik."

The sharp edge to his voice makes me wince. But the fact that he’s offering me evidence to support his claims has me slouching down on the bench. "I want Finn to lead a normal life. I don’t want him battling those monsters."

"That’s his fate," Locke says calmly. "And that’s what he will ultimately want to do. On the battlefield is where he will be able to control his bloodlust. But not yet."

"Why are you telling me all this now?" I lean forward and hold my head in my hands. "Why not tell me when you first figured out who Finn was? This seems like a legitimate reason to snatch him from me."

"Snatch him?" Locke sounds surprised. "Why would I snatch our son from you? You are his mother. And we are a family. He needs you. But he also needs me."

"You want to take him to the North, don’t you? You want to surround him with people who will look down on him because of his blood, people who will try to hurt him."

"If they lay a hand on either of you, I’ll rip their heads off," Locke snarls.

I don’t look at him. I can’t bear to. "But the people who wanted to harm us are still alive, aren’t they?" I point out wearily. "Am I expected to believe that you can keep us safe now when you couldn’t keep me safe then? Sigrid says I should trust you. You say I should trust you. But there’s nothing that I’ve seen or that you’ve done to make me trust you. You want to drag my son away from here, away from the life he knows, a place where he’s safe, to a land where he will be humiliated like his mother was. He’s a child, Locke. And you want him to fight monsters."

I get to my feet, my soul feeling burdened. "I don’t know what you want from me. Sigrid loves you. She sees the best in you. As a result, she wants me to see the best in you. But Locke, after how you treated me, have you ever even apologized? You come here and see your son and start making demands. I haven’t heard a single apology for the way you made me feel. Yet you expect me to trust you?"

I meet his gaze head on. "I’m not some naïve, sheltered girl who’ll believe anything you say. I don’t know what the truth is. What I do know is what you put me through. I can never forget the things you said. Your words, Bella’s words. They’re all etched in my memory. I was a tool. Something to be used by you. A substitute, a means to an end, a thing without feelings. Showing up here and telling me what you expect me to do isn’t going to work. I’m not someone who has to bow before you anymore. You’re in my world now."

He’s staring at me as if trying to process my words. Turning on my heel, I walk away.

It hurts. It hurts so much that it feels like my heart will explode. And the hurt is wrapped in frustration.

He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t see. And he never will.