Chapter 55
The silence in the car was tense as they approached their pack’s territory. Mack glanced sideways at Ophelia, a faint scoff escaping his lips. He couldn’t quite believe her sudden concern for Azalea. Why would she suddenly care so much about Azalea’s well-being? It was clear to him that she had some ulterior motive.
As they pulled up to the pack’s gates, the guards lined up, bowing respectfully as Mack and Ophelia stepped out of the car. The towering stone structure loomed over them, and the air felt thick with anticipation.
Ophelia turned to him with a faint smile. “I’m going to the bedroom,” she said, placing a hand on her forehead dramatically. “I need to rest… I haven’t been feeling like myself lately.”
Mack’s expression remained impassive as he watched her. “Fine,” he muttered, and without another glance, he headed towards his study.
The door of the study was barely closed behind him when his trusted man, Philip, entered. He walked in with a sense of urgency, holding a stack of documents in his hands. Philip was one of the few people Mack trusted implicitly, and the look on his face told him that something was amiss.
“Sir, the supplies have arrived,” Philip announced, his tone measured but carrying a hint of confusion.
Mack frowned, glancing up from his desk. “Supplies? What supplies are you talking about, Philip?”
“The marriage supplies, sir,” Philip replied, stepping forward and setting the documents on Mack’s desk. “They bear the stamp of your kingdom. According to the order, they’re for your wedding to Lady Ophelia.”
A stunned silence fell over the room as Mack processed what Philip had just said. He stared at the documents on his desk, his mind reeling. “A wedding… with Ophelia?” His voice was a mixture of disbelief and irritation. “I didn’t approve any of this, Philip.”
“I thought it seemed odd,” Philip replied cautiously. “The order went through the royal channels, bearing your seal, sir. Someone had to have authorised it in your name.”
Mack stood up abruptly, his fists clenched at his sides as a surge of anger coursed through him. “I don’t know who would dare use my name like that. But I’m going to find out.”
Without wasting another moment, he strode out of his study and down the hall, his footsteps echoing against the marble floors as he made his way to Ophelia’s quarters. He didn’t bother knocking; he pushed the door open, finding her lounging on the edge of the bed, feigning exhaustion.
She looked up, feigning surprise. “Mack, what are you doing here?” Her voice was soft, almost innocent.
Mack held up the documents, his expression dark. “Care to explain these?” His voice was icy, cutting through the tension in the room.
Ophelia’s eyes flickered to the documents in his hand, her expression momentarily faltering before she composed herself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied smoothly, her tone calm.
“Don’t play games with me, Ophelia,” Mack snapped, stepping closer. “The order for wedding supplies. With my name, my seal. When did I agree to this?”
Ophelia shrugged, crossing her arms. “Well, isn’t it natural to assume? We’re bound to be together eventually. The supplies were simply a… formality.”
“A formality?” he repeated, his voice seething with restrained anger. “Since when do you make decisions for me?”
Her gaze hardened, the pretence slipping from her face. “Maybe it’s time someone did, Mack. You’re too caught up in your world to see what’s best for you.”
Mack’s jaw tightened. “And you think that’s you, do you? Sneaking around, making plans without even speaking to me?”
Ophelia sighed, her tone turning sharp. “I’m only doing what you’re too afraid to do, Mack. Face it: you need me. Without someone by your side, you’re just another alpha with no legacy.”
Mack took a step back, the weight of her words hitting him, but his anger didn’t dissipate. Instead, it fueled him. “I don’t need anyone-especially not someone who schemes behind my back,” he growled. “Whatever you’re planning, it ends now.”
Ophelia’s eyes flashed with defiance. “You can try to stop me, Mack. But remember this-if you don’t have the guts to make decisions, then don’t blame me for taking control.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned away, settling back onto the bed as if the conversation was over.
Mack gritted his teeth, his fists clenched. “This isn’t over, Ophelia. I won’t let you manipulate me into a marriage for your gain.”
As he turned to leave, Ophelia’s voice rang out behind him, low and threatening. “We’ll see, Mack. You may think you’re in control, but soon enough, you’ll realise who truly holds the power here.”
Mack didn’t respond. He stormed out of the room, his heart pounding with a mixture of anger and disbelief. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a much darker scheme, one that Ophelia was more than willing to carry out to get what she wanted.
—
Back in his study, Mack stood at the window, staring out at the sprawling landscape beyond the pack’s territory. Philip reappeared silently at the door, his face a mask of concern.
“Sir, should I… make arrangements to halt the supplies?” he asked cautiously.
Mack nodded, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. “Yes. Do whatever it takes. This marriage won’t happen-at least not on her terms.”
“Yes, sir, but I have something else to say, what if there’s no way to stop the supplies? What if it causes a rift then we’ll have no other option but the accept it” Philip replied, bowing slightly.
“Then we’ll burn it up when it comes in, I’m not getting married on her terms it’ll never happen!”
As the door closed, Mack clenched his jaw, his mind racing. Ophelia had shown her true colors, and he knew now that he couldn’t trust her. Whatever game she was playing, he would be ready to counter it. He would not be a pawn in anyone’s scheme-least of all Ophelia’s.