The Alpha’s Arranged Bride

LAVENDER’S POV

I gave myself one last twirl in front of the mirror before stepping out. Luckily, Mitchel was just getting into the car when I stepped out of the building. She was surprised to see me also getting into the car, but she said nothing.

I wanted to join in too. I had specific tastes, and I was not going to let anyone choose for me. Not that I doubted her, but I would feel more comfortable being there. Moreover, I doubted Caramel would be able to tell my right size.

We knew each other for only a few days, and he already knew what size I wore? I scoffed at the thought. He was definitely trying to pull my legs, and I was not going to let him deceive me into believing he was right. We headed to town.

A town I was not well versed in, but the driver knew where we were headed and dropped us at a mall. From the look of it, it was famous around this part because of how busy it was. It was strange to see so many people late in the day, but maybe the mall was just that good.

“This way,” The maid pulled me out of my thoughts, and I walked behind her towards a stall.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

We entered, and she started searching through the clothes. “Do you like this?” Mitchel asked as she took out a gown from the hanger.

I looked at it for some time, then nodded. “It’s okay,” I told her, and she passed it to the attendant.

Thirty minutes into shopping, Mitchel’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen, then excused herself. She only stepped a few distances away from me, but I was not in the mood to just stand and wait, so I moved around, searching for more clothes. We had around ten clothes, but since Caramel said I could get as many as I wanted, I decided to find as many that I liked.

We spent two hours shopping for clothes, make-up, perfumes, shoes, hair products, and a few other things a lady needed to feel complete when it came to her body. Just as we were getting into the car, Mitchel bowed. “I need to get something,” she said, and I nodded.

I didn’t think too much about it and just let her. She spent ten minutes in the mall before stepping out and into the car. It took us about thirty minutes on the road before we got back to the mansion. A few maids rushed forward to help with the bags. No matter how much I told them I had it covered, none of them allowed me to carry one bag.

I eventually had to give up and just let them do that. We got to my room, and they placed it on my bed before exiting after a bow. I was left alone to check out what we had bought. While checking out the clothes, I noticed an additional bag.

I looked through the contents, and my eyes widened in shock as to what I was staring at. There were three pieces of lingerie in the bag. “Mitchel,” I called, and again, as though she was standing right at the door, she opened it and walked in.

“Who owns this?” I inquired.

“It’s yours,” she replied, and I glanced from her to what I was holding.

“I didn’t pick this,” I told her firmly.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?” I asked, surprise all over my face. “Return them,” I instructed, but she shook her head in refusal.

“You’ll like it. I promise you,” she said, and I was filled with disbelief.

“No,” I barked. “Take them back,” I commanded, stretching my hand for her to take it, but she refused.

I stood there staring at her for some time before waving my hand for her to leave. I was not going to wear this. I threw them on the bed and walked into the bathroom. After bathing and then changing into one of my new dresses, I picked up one piece of lingerie, placed it in a bag, and marched out of the room. I spotted a guard and asked, “Where is Alpha Caramel?” I asked, slowly getting the hang of his title.

“His study, Miss,” The guard bowed, and I nodded before heading in that direction.

Mitchel did not listen to me, but surely she would listen to her Alpha if I told him about this. I once again glanced at the bag I held, which made me roll my eyes. What actually went through Mitchel’s head when she chose these for me? I pondered as I finally got to Caramel’s study.

I knocked lightly. “Come in,” I heard his voice from within.

I turned the knob and pushed the door lightly as I got in, but I turned around almost immediately. I heard Caramel chuckle behind me. “What happened?” I heard him ask.

“You have no shirt on,” I spoke in embarrassment.

“And? You are my wife. You’ll see me like this more often. Moreover, I feel hot,” he told me.

“Just put on a shirt, please,” I pleaded.

I heard him move before he spoke. “Turn around,” he said, and I did just that, even taking a step forward. But I stopped and opened my mouth to speak.

He was still shirtless. However, just before I spoke, I spotted what he was having. I rushed forward, and just before he could place the piece of meat in his mouth, I snatched it from him. “Don’t eat that,” I said.

He looked surprised, but after glancing from me to the food, his expression turned to amusement. “What’s funny? You can’t eat that. It’s bad for your health. I’ll cook it, garnish it, and then serve you. You’ll see how good it is,” I told him, and he chuckled, relaxing his back on his chair.

“Raw meat is good for me,” he said, and I was so close to slapping my forehead.

I just told him it was bad. What human takes raw meat? I stared at the plate. He was already halfway through. I could only imagine what the doctor would make him go through after the raw meat started working in his system. “It’s not!” I firmly told him, and was about to pick up the plate ready to leave for the kitchen, but he held my hand, stopping me.

I don’t know what it is about his eyes that keep me so glued to it all the time. His amused gaze \was only eliminating his face. Caramel was a fine-looking man and with his eyes shining so brightly, it only made it better.

For a moment, we remained in that stance, both of us gazing into each other’s eyes. I took my hand back the moment I realized what I was doing. I was not supposed to be distracted by him and his pretty face. It felt like my thoughts leaked to my face because not long after, he chuckled again.

“I’m not human, if that’s what you think,” he said, and I frowned immediately.

I chuckled, carrying the plate. “Please, if that’s your way of stopping me from cooking you a meal, then forget it. I’m not bragging, but my cooking is good,” I boasted.

He shook his head. “I’m a werewolf, Lavender,” he said calmly, and the plate I held fell to the ground.