My Guardian Married My Sister But I’m His Alpha Chapter 05
Arthur wasn’t asking.
The moment he finished speaking, he took the suitcase from her hand.
The Pack estate looked exactly as she remembered.
Sprawling, silent, beautiful—and cold.
The Moretti residence was connected to the main Pack House, and at night, you could hear the quiet footsteps of the Guardians on their patrols.
Arthur led Chiara through the grand entry hall and into the dining room.
The long table was set for a full dinner service, the chandelier casting a brilliant glare over the silver and obsidian coasters.
But the sight of the people seated there killed any appetite she might have had.
Her grandfather sat at the head of the table, the oldest and most powerful Elder in the Moretti family.
To his left was Francesca. She had changed into a pale pink dress, her complexion looking far healthier than it had at the cemetery. A small vial of a healer’s concoction rested beside her plate.
Next to Francesca sat their mother. Three years had etched new lines on her face. One of her hands rested protectively on Francesca’s, as if she feared her daughter’s wolf might shatter at any moment.
Griffin sat to her grandfather’s right.
The acting Alpha’s seat.
The moment Chiara walked in, his eyes found hers.
She looked away, refusing to meet his gaze.
“You’ve been gone three years and forgotten how to greet your Pack?” her grandfather said, his voice sharp.
“Grandpa,” Chiara said, her tone flat.
He gave a dismissive snort. “You return for your father’s memorial at the last possible second, as if you were attending a stranger’s funeral.”
The words were a blade to the heart.
Chiara didn’t bother to defend herself.
“Enough. You’re back, that’s what matters,” her mother interjected. “Your sister has been unwell, and she’s been worried sick about all of this. The least you can do is thank her.”
Francesca immediately shook her head.
“Mom, it’s fine. Chiara just got off a long flight. She hasn’t even adjusted to the time difference.”
As she spoke, she picked up a serving spoon and, reaching across the table, placed a piece of eggplant parmigiana on Chiara’s plate.
Chiara hated eggplant parmigiana.
The old Chiara would have shoved the plate away.
Now, she just looked down at it and said, “Thank you.”
Francesca froze, a flicker of surprise in her eyes.
It was as if the next line she’d prepared had nowhere to go.
“Let’s get to the point,” her grandfather said, setting down his wineglass with a decisive click. “After the memorial, you will not be returning to Europe. You can’t remain detached from your territory forever.”
“Grandpa.” Chiara’s grip tightened on her fork. “I have a job. I can take care of myself.”
Her grandfather ignored her completely.
“You remember Tucker Sutton, don’t you? He’s the heir to the Riverbend Pack now. After the memorial tomorrow, you’re going to meet him.”
Chiara’s fingers clenched around her fork.
So that was it. The real reason for this summons.
This wasn’t a date.
This was a formal meeting, with two Packs as witnesses. They were arranging a bloodline alliance.
“Grandpa,” she said, her voice dangerously calm, “I don’t need you to arrange a courtship for me.”
“You don’t need it?” Her grandfather’s brow furrowed. “Your sister’s alliance was settled by your age. The Moretti bloodline cannot be left unsecured.”
Instinctively, Chiara’s gaze shot to Griffin.
He sat motionless, his expression a mask, though his fingers had tightened around the stem of his glass. For a split second, the pressure in the room deepened. He said nothing.
Chiara took a slow, steadying breath.
“I’m not going.”
The entire table fell silent.
“What did you say?” her grandfather demanded.
“I said, I’m not going.” Chiara met his gaze without flinching. “The Council has no right to choose my mate for me.”
“Your sister’s alliance was approved by me and the elders,” her grandfather shot back. “Are you suggesting we were wrong to arrange it?”
Chiara looked from Francesca to Griffin.
Before she could answer, her mother spoke first.
“Chiara!”
Her voice was sharp as broken glass.
“You vanish for three years, and this is how you behave the moment you return? Your sister has always been frail, yet she has never caused this family a moment of trouble. Your father dies, and you run away. Do you have any loyalty left for this family at all?”
Her eyes grew red as she spoke, as if Chiara refusing a forced alliance was the ultimate betrayal.
Francesca placed a hand over their mother’s. “Mom, don’t be upset,” she said softly. “Chiara’s still young. One day she’ll understand that you, Grandpa, and the elders only want what’s best for her.”
Chiara pushed back her chair and stood.
“I need some air.”
She stepped out onto the terrace, the cold night wind a welcome shock to her system.
A moment later, she heard footsteps behind her.
“Chiara.” Griffin had followed her. “You shouldn’t speak to your grandfather like that. He’s a Pack Elder—”
“Griffin,” Chiara cut him off, “what gives you the right to say that to me? Who are you right now?”
She turned to face him. “My father’s appointed guardian? The acting Alpha? Or my sister’s husband?”