The Alpha’s Rebellious Fiancee novel Chapter 2

Lyra’s POV

I walked through the estate like a ghost, and still, they saw me.

They always saw me when it was convenient—to sneer, to whisper, to point. My steps echoed through the stone corridors, each one drawing more attention than the last. I held my hands together to stop them from trembling, but my heart was already pounding.

“ She’s going to Alpha Magnus’s office? ” someone hissed from behind a column.

“ No way. She must’ve messed something up, ” another voice joined.

“ Messed up? That girl is a mess. Probably broke something in Lucien’s room again.”

“ I bet she stole something. Rogues are thieves, everyone knows that.”

“ She’s bad luck. Should’ve thrown her back out the day they dragged her in from the border.”

“ She probably tried to seduce the Alpha’s son. That’s what those rogue whores do.”

I bit my tongue, held back the burn behind my eyes, and kept walking. Don’t cry. Not here. Not ever again.

The whispers followed me like shadows all the way across the estate. The further I went, the heavier the air became. The temperature hadn’t changed, but it felt thicker—like walking through fog. Like something terrible waited for me at the end of the hall.

I stopped in front of the carved wooden doors of Alpha Magnus’s office.

My stomach churned.

His guards stood to the side, silent. One of them opened the door for me, and I stepped in.

The office smelled like leather and firewood. A massive oak desk sat in the center, cluttered with scrolls, maps, and documents. The fire crackled low in the hearth. Magnus stood with his back to me, staring out the tall window overlooking the training yard.

He didn’t turn around when I entered.

But he did speak.

“Out,” he said.

Two betas who had been waiting inside immediately stood, bowed, and walked out, stealing glances at me on their way. The door clicked shut behind them.

And then it was just me and him. Alpha Magnus finally turned. His eyes weren’t cruel. They weren’t angry. They were sad.

Pitying.

I hated that look more than hatred itself. He knew. He knew everything. He was the only one who did.

“Alpha Magnus,” I whispered, bowing my head.

He nodded. “Lyra.”