Page 45 of Cruel Alpha: Season Two
“How interesting,” Clementine says, offering Arabella a catty smile that doesn’t go unnoticed.
“And what mightyourtalent be,” Arabella asks, curling her lip as she holds Clementine’s gaze.
“Actually, I’m a licensed pilot,” Clementine reveals. “I’ve practically flown all over the world. It’s been quite the adventure.”
Arabella is rendered silent, but Wilhemena’s wheels appear to be turning as her lips part.
“Unaccompanied?” Wilhemena asks. “Because I can onlyimaginewhat sort of trouble a woman like yourself might get into when left unattended. Tell us, Clementine, did you do much mingling with the locals during your travels?”
“Just what are you implying?”
Wilhemena’s initial response to Clementine’s question is an innocent shrug. “I haven’t implied anything at all. I simply asked if you and the locals were…friendly.”
Clementine crosses her arms with a huff. “I was accompanied by my father the entire time, and he never let me out of his sight. So, to answer yourridiculousquestion, there was no‘mingling’with the locals whatsoever. The purpose of my adventures was simply to explore. Nothing more.”
Wearing a wicked smirk, Wilhemena feigns innocence again. “How exciting that must have been for you.”
“Quite,” Clementine snaps back. “So, why don’t you tell us ofyourtalent, Wilhemena. We’re all dying to hear.”
That slick grin on Wilhemena’s face grows, and I tug my collar, feeling confined all of a sudden. It isn’t until Archibald taps my shoulder, offering me a handkerchief, that I realize I’ve broken a sweat. The stress of this dinner, the ruthlessness of the women surrounding me, has caused a spike in my anxiety.
If this is a snapshot of what’s to come, I shall surely have no peace.
“Well, since you asked, I possessmanytalents,” Wilhemena boasts. “Like Arabella, I’m gifted in song, but I also have original paintings hanging in several galleries throughout New Eden. I’ve also been the recipient of theZenith Masterpiece Awardfor ballet several years in a row. However,” she beams, shifting her gaze to me, “I’m certain I have yet to discover the manyotherways I’m gifted to perform.”
I stare in utter shock, put off by her brazen display this evening. I’ve never heard a woman speak so crassly in the presence of others. I’m not a prude by any stretch of the word, but I can’t help but wonder if she speaks this freely in the presence ofallmen.
What the fuck am I doing?
The question flits into my thoughts, and I can’t answer it. Because, in truth, the line between what the clan needs and whatIneed has become such a blur. Three of the four women at this table mean absolutely nothing to me. Yet, I’ve committed myself to a lifetime with them by my side, listening to them argue over petty incidentals while we dine, only to surely complain even more when the others are no longer in earshot.
Maybe I’ve been naïve to think that four women could possibly share a home without succumbing to chaos. And as I think on it deeper, I’m not sure fourmenwould survive those circumstances either. Now, as I sit here today, drowning out the potshots and petty chatter of the Consort Elects, I have an epiphany. One that’s grown from the seed Aunt Pen planted days ago, only to blossom to full maturity today, after having endured the verbal torment of three surprisingly classless women.
For the first time since this process began, I’m questioning things.
And the first and most pressing question of all is… am I still certain I can go through with this?
25
Two Little Words
Caspian
Seatedat the dining room table in stunned silence, I’m unsure what I can possibly say to restore order. The volume of the Consort Elects’ voices climbs, and they’ve begun to sound like shrill housecats, hissing and snapping at one another. But before I arrive at a solution, there’s movement at the other end of the table that steals my attention away.
I peer up just as Annalise rises from her seat, not bothering to lay eyes onanyoneas she seemingly dismisses herself from the table.
Frantic, I’m on my feet the next second. “Wait. Where are you going?”
The room goes silent, which I hadn’t expected given the way these women have carried on thus far tonight. I clear my throat, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically nervous. It’s dawned on me that my question to Annalise isn’t likely to be answered, considering she’s wanted nothing to do with me as of late. I’ve avoided trying to break the ice between us while in the presence of others, simply to save myself the embarrassment of being publicly rejected. But when I saw her preparing to leave, my heart couldn’t take it, and the words just sort of… jumped out of my mouth.
Poised and showing no sign of any emotion other than mild frustration, Annalise faces me, pushing her long, dark hair behind her shoulder as the other women stare.
“I’m returning to my room,” she says.
“So soon? Dinner hasn’t even been served yet.”
Her nostrils flare when she sighs, and that hint of frustration grows. “I’ve decided that my presence here isn’t necessary tonight.”
