MARKED FOR PRETEND - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading MARKED FOR PRETEND, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of MARKED FOR PRETEND.
The hall had been transformed overnight.Red carpets unrolled across the marble. Golden drapes lined the archways. Flowers bloomed where there had been nothing but polished stone. Everything glittered like it had something to prove.
“This is your first formal presentation,” one of the younger Matrons explained. “The Alphas are here to observe, not engage. Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not make eye contact unless it is invited. Do not embarrass yourself.”
The air was thick with perfume and pressure.
The girls around me were nearly buzzing. They whispered about which Alphas were here ,how powerful, how rich, how old. Some were from local packs, others from across the regions. But one name kept getting repeated like a prayer no one wanted to say too loud.
Alpha Kaden Black.
“He’s not even supposed to be here,” one girl said, her voice low. “He’s not looking for a Luna. Just came out of obligation.”
“They say his wolf doesn’t speak to anyone.”
“They say he killed his last betrothed.”
“Shut up,” Arelle snapped, adjusting her neckline. “You sound like children.”
But even she looked nervous.
I kept my eyes on the polished floor, counting the pattern in the marble. I didn’t care which Alpha was which. I just wanted the room to stop spinning and the corset to stop strangling me.
The Matrons moved us into two lines.
Then the trumpets sounded.
The doors opened.
And they entered.
Ten of them, maybe more. All tall. All dressed in layered ceremonial black. Some older. Some young. One or two clearly disinterested.
But one—
One stood apart.
Not physically. Not obviously.
But I felt it.
Like the silence after lightning.
He didn’t look like a prince or a politician. He looked like someone who had bled and didn’t care who saw the scars.
Dark hair. Sharply cut. Cold expression. A slight tilt of the head like he was bored. But his eyes…
His eyes didn’t scan the crowd like the others.
They went straight to me.
And stayed.
My breath caught.
I looked away immediately, but it was too late. I’d seen it. The flicker. The shift.
Recognition.
Even if I didn’t know him, he knew me.
The introductions began.
Each girl stepped forward. Stated her name. Her lineage. Her pack. Her title.
I had none of those things.
When it was my turn, I walked to the front, kept my head high, and said:
“Chelsea Ravenspell.”
No title. No rank. Just a name.
I didn’t look up.
But I felt the stir ripple across the room like wind across glass.
Some of the Alphas shifted in their seats.
The Matrons stood tenser.
Whispers passed like sparks behind me.
The girl with no pack. The witch’s girl. Why is she even here?
But I kept my chin up. I didn’t shake. I didn’t run.
I stood there until they told me to move again.
The rest of the ceremony was a blur. Applause. Questions. Formalities.
But when the Alphas rose to leave, I glanced up one last time.
And there he was.
Watching me.
Still.
Not blinking.
Not smiling.
Just watching.
“This is your first formal presentation,” one of the younger Matrons explained. “The Alphas are here to observe, not engage. Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not make eye contact unless it is invited. Do not embarrass yourself.”
The air was thick with perfume and pressure.
The girls around me were nearly buzzing. They whispered about which Alphas were here ,how powerful, how rich, how old. Some were from local packs, others from across the regions. But one name kept getting repeated like a prayer no one wanted to say too loud.
Alpha Kaden Black.
“He’s not even supposed to be here,” one girl said, her voice low. “He’s not looking for a Luna. Just came out of obligation.”
“They say his wolf doesn’t speak to anyone.”
“They say he killed his last betrothed.”
“Shut up,” Arelle snapped, adjusting her neckline. “You sound like children.”
But even she looked nervous.
I kept my eyes on the polished floor, counting the pattern in the marble. I didn’t care which Alpha was which. I just wanted the room to stop spinning and the corset to stop strangling me.
The Matrons moved us into two lines.
Then the trumpets sounded.
The doors opened.
And they entered.
Ten of them, maybe more. All tall. All dressed in layered ceremonial black. Some older. Some young. One or two clearly disinterested.
But one—
One stood apart.
Not physically. Not obviously.
But I felt it.
Like the silence after lightning.
He didn’t look like a prince or a politician. He looked like someone who had bled and didn’t care who saw the scars.
Dark hair. Sharply cut. Cold expression. A slight tilt of the head like he was bored. But his eyes…
His eyes didn’t scan the crowd like the others.
They went straight to me.
And stayed.
My breath caught.
I looked away immediately, but it was too late. I’d seen it. The flicker. The shift.
Recognition.
Even if I didn’t know him, he knew me.
The introductions began.
Each girl stepped forward. Stated her name. Her lineage. Her pack. Her title.
I had none of those things.
When it was my turn, I walked to the front, kept my head high, and said:
“Chelsea Ravenspell.”
No title. No rank. Just a name.
I didn’t look up.
But I felt the stir ripple across the room like wind across glass.
Some of the Alphas shifted in their seats.
The Matrons stood tenser.
Whispers passed like sparks behind me.
The girl with no pack. The witch’s girl. Why is she even here?
But I kept my chin up. I didn’t shake. I didn’t run.
I stood there until they told me to move again.
The rest of the ceremony was a blur. Applause. Questions. Formalities.
But when the Alphas rose to leave, I glanced up one last time.
And there he was.
Watching me.
Still.
Not blinking.
Not smiling.
Just watching.
End of MARKED FOR PRETEND Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to MARKED FOR PRETEND book page.