The horse's hooves thudded on the dirt path, a jarring rhythm that spiked my pulse as the town's rooftops sharpened under the morning sun. I sat in front of Elias, pressed between his broad chest and the horse's neck, my hands clutching the saddle's pommel to steady myself. I couldn't ride more like I had never learned. In the sect we rode carriages not horses
Elias had insisted I sit here, his arms encircling me to grip the reins, his mahogany scent flooding my senses.
Elias's voice rumbled near my ear, low and teasing, his breath grazing my neck. "If you think Mark and Martina are such awful names, princess, suggest something better."
I smirked, my voice sharp, cutting through the morning's quiet as I stared at the path ahead. "Gladly, Alpha. Boris and Beatrice, far more suited to this absurd charade."
His laugh vibrated against my back, grating my nerves. "And you think that's better? Boris and Beatrice? We sound like turnip peddlers at a village fair."
My cheeks flushed, shame prickling, but I tilted my head slightly, my retort slicing. "Turnips are honest, Alpha. Unlike your little undercover game."
His arms tightened briefly around me, steadying the reins, his tone mocking. "Game? Enlighten me, princess."
I gripped the pommel harder, the horse snorted. "Why do you need a fake name to sneak into your own town? Don't your people know who you are?"
His chuckle tickled my ear, laced with disbelief. "What do you mean everyone knows me? Do you know how big the Bloodmoon Pack is? Only the nobles know my face."
I scoffed, my voice rising, sharp enough to startle a passing bird. "What? Aren't your people loyal to you? How can they be loyal to a lord they don't know? Is that even loyalty?"
In the Sect, Father's presence choked every soul from the elders to the servants and to the lowliest child knew his face, his wrath. This anonymity was madness.
Elias's laugh softened, his voice warm with amusement. "Loyalty? Of course they're loyal."
I leaned forward, my voice fierce, the horse's mane rough under my fingers. "How sure are you, Alpha? If they can't see you, aren't they more loyal to your nobles than you?"
His arms paused, a hint of confusion in his silence. "What do you mean by that?"
I pressed on "If your nobles are the only ones who know you, your people take orders from them, not you. Their loyalty is to your nobles, not their Alpha."
He paused, the horse's rhythm filling the quiet, then his voice came, casual. "Uh, yeah?"
I laughed, sharp and bitter. "Then they're loyal to your nobles, not you, Alpha. Father would never allow such a fracture. He ruled every soul, oversaw every glory, every mistake. Your people could betray you, destroy your Pack, and you'd be blind."
Elias's laughter erupted, loud and unrestrained, his chest pressing against my back as he shook. The horse flicked its ears, and my face burned, confusion knotting my thoughts. "What's so funny?" I snapped, my shoulders stiffening against his warmth.
His voice was warm, teasing, near my ear. "You think loyalty needs a face? I trust my people, princess, and they trust me. That's enough."
I glared at the path, my jaw tight. "You're an idiot, Alpha," I said, my voice dripping with disdain. "Trust without oversight is a fool's wager. Your Pack's probably scheming under your nose."
His chuckle lingered, his arms steady around me. "Call me Mark, not Alpha. And maybe your Sect's leash was too tight. Ever consider that?"
My heart pounded, Father's whip flashing in my mind, the Sect's rigid hierarchy clashing with Elias's reckless trust. Was he naive, or was I bound by Father's lies? His scent stirred warmth I fought to ignore, sowing doubts about the Sect. "Mark," I mocked, "your trust will be your ruin."
His voice was low, almost intimate. "And your suspicion will be yours, Martina. Loosen up, or the town will eat you alive."
I smirked, my voice cutting. "Let them try, Mark. I've faced worse than your townsfolk starting with you."
"Your Pack's loyalty is a myth," I said, my fingers aching on the pommel. "Without your face, they're loyal to the shadows."
His breath grazed my ear, his tone sharp but playful. "And your Sect's loyalty was fear. My people choose to follow. That's stronger."
I scoffed, leaning forward, away from his warmth. "Choice without knowledge is chaos, Mark. Your nobles could turn your Pack against you."
His voice teased, close and warm. "You worry too much, Martina. My nobles know their place."
"And you don't know yours," I shot back, my smile victorious. "A lord who hides is no lord at all."
His chuckle was grudging, his arms steady around me. "Keep talking, princess. You're making this ride entertaining."
The town's gates loomed, parting to reveal a chaotic sprawl of market stalls, shouting vendors, and scurrying children. The air buzzed with the smells of fresh bread, leather, and smoke mingling with cart clatters.
"Keep your eyes sharp, Martina," he said, his voice low, teasing, near my ear. "No accusing the townsfolk of serving you scraps."
I smirked, my voice slicing through the din. "Only if they serve me your nonsense, Mark."
His laugh blended with the market's clamor, drawing a vendor's glance. "God you're funny"
The town was filled with people selling a lot of things. Local snacks that I have never tasted but they looked tasty and all. The people all had a smile on their face as they sold. The children on the street ran around happily, this was surprising.
Markets have always been filled with people but this market felt different. What made them so happy? The market was a place to sell and buy things, not a place to run around but they were kids running around. The vendors didn't say anything but instead laughed with the kids. Some of the vendors gave the kids free things.
The sect kids went allowed in the market as they would destroy things in the market.