Never Yours Alpha

CH 3- Lily

LILY POV

I woke up with my heart beating like a damn war drum and sweat sticking my curls to my forehead. Not exactly the elegant awakening a future queen should have, but after the dream I’d just had, I was surprised I hadn’t pissed myself.

A giant Grinch had chased me through a snowy forest filled with red and green mist, its long bony fingers reaching for my throat like it wanted to drag me back into whatever nightmare hole it crawled out of. Right before those disgusting hands touched me, I jolted awake.

So yeah.

My mother’s brilliant marriage idea was already rotting my subconscious. Perfect.

I pushed myself up and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my face with both hands. I had a “walk” scheduled this morning. My first meeting with Grint Jr. My “future husband,” apparently. I barely even knew what the guy looked like. For all I knew, he actually could well be the Grinch in disguise.

Just like his father.

I stood up and walked toward the rack of dresses my mother’s maids had left for me. Gold silk. Emerald chiffon. A disgusting fuchsia thing that looked like it had lost a fight with glitter. All revealing, all stiff, all “proper.” All a joke.

Definitely not me.

Maybe that was the point. Decorate the broken princess so no one notices the cracks.

I dragged my fingers along the fabrics, then stepped back and snorted. If I was really supposed to meet my “future husband,” I could at least be honest enough to show him the real version of me. Jeans, boots, shirt. A girl who didn’t want to be here. A girl who wasn’t built for tiaras and corsets.

Maybe he’d back out on his own. Maybe he’d tell the Queen he wasn’t interested. And if he did, I wouldn’t feel guilty.

With a small victorious grin, I opened the drawer where I hid all my human clothes — the ones I had fought for until my mother finally stopped lecturing me about “appearances.” I pulled out my favorite pair of jeans and a white silk shirt that was comfortable, simple, and didn’t suffocate me. White ankle boots completed the look. Light makeup. Nothing fancy.

I clipped on my golden necklace — the one Kai had given me eight years ago when we’d said goodbye. She’d been the only one who didn’t treat me like a curse or a miracle. She’d treated me like Lily. Just Lily. Sometimes I wondered if I should’ve stayed in her pack instead of coming back here, but apparently fate loved screwing with me.

A knock snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Princess?” Marisol’s voice drifted through the door.

“Come in.”

Marisol was one of the few people in this palace who acted like I wasn’t contagious. She slipped inside with a soft smile, her pointed ears twitching with amusement the moment she saw me.

“Oh goddess,” she said, covering her mouth like she wasn’t about to laugh. “You’re such a troublemaker.”

I spun once, letting my curls bounce. “What? You don’t think this screams ‘future queen’?”

“I think your mother will faint,” she said. “And I think Councilman Grint’s son might have an aneurysm.”

“That’s his problem,” I muttered. “These dresses are ridiculous. How am I supposed to walk in the snow with stilettos and twenty pounds of silk? Does the Queen want me dead?”

Marisol chuckled and reached for a burgundy dress. “You know they expect—”

“Marisol,” I cut in, placing a hand on hers, “I’m fine. Really. Let them judge. Let them whisper. They already do.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “All right. But at least let me get you coffee. You look like you fought a war.”

“I did,” I said. “With the Grinch.”

“What?”

“Long story.”

Marisol just shook her head and motioned for me to follow her. We walked down the hallway, avoiding the main corridors because the Queen’s morning patrol of nagging usually lurked there. I didn’t want to run into her before caffeine. Or ever.

The library was my unofficial hiding spot. Old books, warm sunlight, and enough dust on the shelves to keep the Queen and her council away. I sank into one of the armchairs while Marisol hurried off and returned a minute later with a steaming cup of coffee. Cinnamon sprinkled on top. Just how I liked it.

And pancakes.

Dark chocolate pancakes.

My comfort breakfast.

I stared at the plate and almost teared up. “You’re an angel.”

“Don’t say that too loudly,” she whispered. “Some fae nobles may hear you and get offended.”

“Right,” I scoffed. “Wouldn’t want them to combust.”

I forced myself to eat even though my stomach was tight. The pressure in my chest had been growing since last night, a heavy invisible hand squeezing harder with every breath. Anxiety. Fear. Or maybe the knowledge that my life was on a countdown and there was no escape plan.

Marisol returned with my coat and helped me slip into it.

“Ready?” she asked softly.

“No,” I replied. “But let’s pretend I am.”

We walked to the back patio because apparently I wasn’t allowed to meet my “future husband” at the front entrance like a normal person. Too public. Too risky. Too many eyes. Too many opinions. As if my entire existence wasn’t already a spectacle.

The cold air slapped my face when the doors opened, and I breathed in deeply. Snow crunched under my boots. A sleek black Lamborghini was parked at the end of the path, and beside it stood a man who definitely wasn’t the Grinch.

Black hair. Black eyes. Sharp jawline. Tall. Muscular. Dressed like he actually had style. His pointed ears gave away his fae bloodline, but everything else about him screamed predator instead of politician.

He looked up the moment I approached.

“Good morning, Princess,” he said, his voice deep and smooth enough to annoy me. “Are you ready for our walk?”

He opened the car door for me with practiced ease.

I narrowed my eyes. “I remember you a bit… different.”

His lips twitched. “Different how?”

“More green,” I said, climbing into the car. “More… cabbage-looking. Are you sure you’re Grint Jr.? Because something’s not adding up.”

He slid into the driver’s seat and smirked. “We’ve never met, Princess. You’re probably thinking of my brother, Seth. He’s the Crown Heir of our house. And he’d found his mate. I’m Samuel. The mateless, younger, funnier, Grint son.”

I blinked.

Of course.

The fae queen arranged my engagement and didn’t even bother specifying which Grint son I was being traded to.

Samuel looked at me like he could see right through my annoyance. “Are you upset about that, wify?”

Oh goddess.

Fantastic.

Even better.

And the worst part?

I wasn’t upset.

Not even close.

I wasn’t relieved either.

I was something messy and uncomfortable — surprised, confused, suspicious… and pissed that the confusion even existed.

I stared out the window to avoid his eyes.

Deep down, under all the noise, something sharp twisted in my stomach.

Not about Samuel.

But about the fact that someone, somewhere, would see me today and think I belonged to him.

That was the part that made my pulse spike in the wrong way.

Like the world had shifted an inch to the left and didn’t line up anymore.

Samuel drummed his fingers on the wheel. “So… where should we walk, Princess? Your mother suggested the northern gardens. They're quiet. Private.”

Of course she had.

Private meant less witnesses. Less rumors. Less chances of Lily embarrassing the court.

I forced a breath out. “Sure. Whatever.”

He shot me a side glance. “You don’t seem thrilled.”

“I’m meeting the guy my mother wants to marry me off to,” I said. “Forgive me if I didn’t bring confetti.”

He laughed. Actually laughed. “Fair.”

I leaned my head back. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Because the sooner this “walk” ended, the sooner I could crawl back into my room, hide under blankets, and pretend none of this was happening.

But as Samuel started the engine and the car purred to life, something cold brushed the back of my neck.

A prickle.

A pulse.

A tug under my ribs — like someone far, far away had breathed my name.

I straightened without meaning to.

Samuel noticed. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” I lied with ease, years of practice indeed.