Conflict In The Garden
Lord Irish's gaze lingered observingly on her tear-streaked face, and the alarm in her blue eyes as she glanced between him and Dahmer. His attention shifted to her silky blue hair, and it was undeniable that the daughter of the late Alpha was indeed the prettiest in her pack.
For a Montague family, blue hair — long, silky and striking — was a rare and distinguishing feature for both their men and women, so they were considered special in not just their pack alone, but other packs out there. If one encountered a blue-haired person in the entirety of their realm, their lineage would invariably trace back to the Montague family, for this unique trait originated with them.
Esme herself had inherited this extraordinary feature from her father, whose striking appearance was renowned. Her mother, though a Montague by marriage, did not share this trait, but she upheld the family's tradition — as her father would say.
There were Montague's with other hair colors — black, blonde, gray — but those with blue hair were the true bearers of the lineage, and thus, their hair remained uncut, a living testament to their heritage.
A Montague never cuts their hair; it was a symbol of their beauty that set them apart from other pack members and packs outside. It was a gift bestowed to their ancestors by the moon goddess, after they succeeded in getting rid of the last demon wolf during a massacre, and this gift was passed down to their descendants. The females born with blue hair were able to connect with the moon and had certain gifts they could unlock at a specific time, but Esme had given up on that theory since she barely even had a wolf.
She didn't think she was lucky enough to have a gift, and now this hair of hers had caught the attention of Alpha Irish. Now that she thought about it, her hair would probably be the only reason why Alpha Dahmer was willing to keep her alive all these years, so he could turn her into a commodity and use her to gain more power.
Why didn't she predict this sooner?
The alarm in her eyes grew, and Esme tried to break free from his restraint on her arm. Her attempts were futile, she didn't have the strength to fight back due to her weak bones. Sadly, she was an ant in comparison to an Alpha, and that only made Alpha Irish chuckle darkly.
His voice was deep and cold as he said. "I need powerful children who will carry on the Montague legacy while bearing my name." He pulled her close, and Esme could smell something fishy, whilst it sent shivers down her spine.
Esme glanced at Dahmer and tried to remove herself from this bargain, but the look he gave her told her she shouldn't dare voice out her objection. He made her aware of the consequences, so Esme was forced to endure once more as Alpha Irish snuggled his rough-looking face into her neck, inhaling her sweet floral scent.
When he extended his tongue to give her neck a lick, to taste her skin and figure out if she's as sweet as she smells, Esme pushed him off in disgust. Since Alpha Irish had not expected the forceful shove, he staggered back, and there was this burning intensity in her eyes that even Dahmer had not seen before.
"Enough!" Esme's voice thundered through the garden as she confronted the two of them. "Just stop it, please!" The fear that had once dominated her expression had given way to a simmering anger and resentment for the two.
She pointed a finger at Dahmer and made it clear to him. "I am not your plaything, your servant or your whipping post. I am Esmeray, the daughter of the late Alpha Damon of the Montague family, and I will not be treated like dirt beneath your feet. You will accord me some respect due to my name, my lineage and my dignity!"
Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, her body trembling as she fought to contain her emotions. Tears of rage and frustration streamed down her eyes, and she's had enough of their constant torment.
"I have borne the weight of your scorn, your condescending remark and your callous regard for my well-being, but you have gone too far, Alpha Dahmer." Her voice cracked, "what did I ever do to you to deserve so much hate, Dahmer? Why won't you allow me to just leave if you don't need my presence at all? I am not a possession to be bartered or discarded at your whim. I may not possess the privilege of a wolf, but I am not beneath your contempt, nor am I anyone's refuse!"
"You listen to me…" Dahmer's gaze turned glacial at her defense, and he grasped Esme by the throat in a vice grip. "You will learn to obey me, Esme." He growled, his hot breath wafting against her face. "I am your Alpha, your master, and you will show me the desired deference due to my station. I own you, Esme. I can do whatever it is I want to do with you and no one will intervene. If I choose to sell you, fuck you, beat you, that is my decision to make, and you have no say whatsoever. All you have to do is listen, got that?"
As he spoke, he constricted her windpipe, making every breath a struggle. Esme's vision began to blur, her chest heaving as she desperately sought to draw in air. Her hands flew to her throat, trying to pry his fingers loose, but his grip was unyielding.
When she assumed she was going to lose consciousness, he released her throat, and Esme collapsed to the ground, and she coughed harshly.
Dahmer would have probably beat the crap out of her if Finnian hadn't come running. Alpha Irish was in a daze when he saw the youngest lord crouching beside Esme, ignoring them both.
"Sister Esme?" Finnian's gaze turned a shade darker as he faced his brother. "What did you do to my sis–"
Esme immediately covered his mouth with her palm to stop him from saying anything to Dahmer. The Alpha would hit anyone, even his own brother if he disrespected him, and the last thing she wanted was to get Finnian in trouble with his big brother.
Alpha Irish didn't bother about the weak shove she gave him for now. He would have more than enough time to make her atone for this disrespect once he buys her from Alpha Dahmer.
Together, the two Alpha's stormed out of the garden, and only after they had left did Vivienne, Esme's servant, hurry to her side in the garden.
"Milady, are you okay?" Vivienne's worried tone reached Esme's ears. Her hands were resting on Esme's back to help her rise to her feet, but Esme didn't budge.
Instead, her tears spilled even more, and Vivienne could only pull Esme into her warm embrace, equally sobbing for her lady.
Finnian's sad gaze lingered on his sobbing sister, and his fist balled in anger.