After One Night with the Alpha (Brad and Elle) novel Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Elle’s POV

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I stood in front of the mirror, trying desperately to force my lips into something resembling a smile. The result was pathetic-more like a grimace of pain than anything close to happiness. Brad’s words still echoed in my ears: “Don’t enjoy the privileges of being Rayne mate while parading around like a

temptress.”

My fingers trembled slightly as I touched the tender mate mark on my neck. Why couldn’t I smile? I used

to be good at it. Back in the human community, even on the worst days with Grace’s verbal abuse, I could

still manage a genuine smile for my mother.

But facing Brad Rayne? Impossible.

Maybe because everything humiliating and uncomfortable in my life now centered around him.

I sighed, dropping the pretense of a smile. What was the point anyway? I turned to my closet, carefully

selecting a simple navy blue dress that covered me appropriately. No more dress shirts. No more exposed skin. No more giving Brad Rayne any reason to look at me with that cold disappointment.

After getting dressed, I headed downstairs, my mind still replaying our earlier encounter. I was so lost in thought that I almost missed the sight that greeted me at the bottom of the stairs.

About fifteen people stood in the entryway, arranged in a perfect line. They were all humans, dressed in impeccable uniforms, and they all bowed simultaneously as I reached the last step.

‘Good morning, Mrs. Rayne,” they chorused, their voices perfectly synchronized.

I froze, looking around in confusion. Where was Brad? My eyes darted from face to face, searching for any

familiar features, finding none.

“I… um…” I stammered, completely caught off guard. Being called “Mrs. Rayne” still felt like they were

addressing someone else entirely.

A woman in her fifties with kind eyes stepped forward from the group. “I’m Martha Thompson, ma’am. Mr. Rayne has appointed me as your head of household sta.”

“Staff?” I echoed weakly. “All of you? For… me?”

Martha nodded, her expression serene. “Yes, ma’am. This is the standard configuration for an Alpha’s mate.

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Chapter 26

Particularly one carrying an heir.”

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My hand instinctively went to my still-flat stomach. “But this seems excessive. I don’t need fifteen people.”

Martha smiled patiently. “Mrs. Rayne, if I may explain: As the Alpha’s mate, you’re entitled to a specialized

staff. We have a personal chef trained in both werewolf and human nutritional needs, two housekeepers

specifically trained not to touch Alpha personal items, our groundskeepers for the estate’s special plants,

two drivers, four security personnel, and myself to oversee everything.”

I blinked rapidly, trying to process this information. “And you’re all… assigned to me?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’re available twenty-four hours a day. And once your pregnancy advances, a prenatal

nutritionist will join the staff as well.” Martha clasped her hands in front of her.

My head was spinning. A whole estate? Fifteen people at my beck and call? This was surreal. “I… thank you

all. Please, go about your duties. I don’t want to keep you standing here.”

They dispersed efficiently after another synchronized bow. I watched them go, feeling like I’d stumbled into someone else’s life. Just weeks ago, I was Elle West Now I was Mrs. Rayne, with an estate and a staff of fifteen. The absurdity of it all made me want to laugh and cry simultaneously.

I heard footsteps on the stairs behind me and turned to see Brad coming down, freshly dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark pants. My heart did that stupid little jump it always did around him, despite my best

efforts to remain unaffected.

Brad didn’t acknowledge me. Instead, he called out, “Martha,” his voice commanding even in that single

word.

Martha appeared, hands clasped respectfully at her waist, head slightly bowed. “Yes, Alpha Brad?”

“I expect you to teach Elle everything she needs to know about being a proper Alpha mate. Focus on social

etiquette. She’ll need it.”

I bristled at being talked about as if I weren’t standing right there, but Brad still didn’t look at me. Instead, he walked past me toward the door, carefully maintaining enough distance that we wouldn’t accidentally touch. I watched his tall, imposing figure move away, iritation bubbling in my chest.

I wasn’t sure if I was more annoyed by his instructions to train me like some pet or by the fact that he was deliberately avoiding any contact. Probably both.

The day that followed was exhausting. Martha patiently explained everything from proper greetings for

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Chapter 26

visiting Alphas to the correct way to pour tea for werewolf dignitaries. By afternoon, my head was swimming with rules about eye contact, seating arrangements, and gift protocols.

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“During a formal dinner,” Martha explained, “you must ever reach for food before the hosting Alpha. And when addressing another pack’s Alpha, maintain eye contact for exactly three seconds before lowering your gaze slightly-enough to show respect without appearing weak.”

I groaned internally. “I had no idea being someone’s male would involve this much… protocol.”

Martha smiled sympathetically. “The Rayne family holds significant power, Mrs. Rayne. Your behavior

reflects on them.”

I nodded, trying to absorb everything. Martha reminded me of my mother-patient and kind. For her sake, I

made an effort to learn everything she taught.

By evening, I was mentally exhausted but had mastered the basics. Martha seemed pleased with my progress, and I felt a small sense of accomplishment and the strangeness of my new life.

I was sitting at the piano in the music room, absently touching the keys without pressing them, when I heard the front door open. Brad walked in, his presence immediately filling the space. Martha greeted him

with a respectful bow before discreetly excusing herself

I kept my eyes down, remembering our last interaction and the humiliation I’d felt. To my surprise, Brad sat beside me on the piano bench, taking my wrist gently in his hand. His skin was warmer than a human’s.

“You’re too tense,” he said, his thumb pressing lightly against my pulse point. “Relax your muscles.”

I hadn’t realized how stiffly I was holding myself until He pointed it out. Something about his touch made

it hard to concentrate.

After releasing my hand, Brad began to play. The melody that flowed from his fingertips was hauntingly beautiful-wild yet refined, like the man himself. I watched, transfixed, as his long fingers danced across

the keys with surprising grace,

I might not like Brad Rayne, but sitting there watching him play, his face softened by concentration and the music surrounding us both, I couldn’t deny there was something magnetic about him. Something that pulled at me despite all my reservations.

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