The Alpha and The Witch.

Chapter Four (Ryder)

I gave myself a final once-over in the full-length mirror. The black suit was a perfect fit, the dark grey dress shirt providing a subtle contrast, and the Windsor knot was tied with precision. My mother always said that how you presented yourself was a reflection of your character, and I prided myself on looking sharp.

"You look dashing, brother," Luke's voice cut through my contemplation. I turned to face him, offering a sarcastic smile.

Dressed head-to-toe in black, Luke was a stark contrast to my more classic look. His suit, shirt, and tie were all shades of the same somber hue, and his blonde hair was slicked back into a style I'd never quite been able to pull off.

"Thank you. Quite the lady killers we are," I replied, unable to suppress a chuckle.

As Luke joined me in front of the mirror, I realized how different we were. Beyond our shared height and the werewolf gene, we were practically opposites.

"That we are, brother. That we are," he said, nodding at his reflection. "Shall we get going then?"

I nodded, gesturing for him to lead the way. As Luke exited the room, I took one last glance in the mirror. "King Ryder," I muttered disgustedly. The title felt like a heavy cloak, suffocating my individuality. I didn't want to take over for my father, but destiny, it seemed, had other plans.

I followed Luke out of the room, the weight of expectation settling on my shoulders.

Gwendolyn was waiting at the bottom of the steps, her impatience evident in the rapid tapping of her foot on the marble floor. Her black hair was styled in loose curls, framing her face perfectly. She wore a stunning sapphire blue dress that clung to her curves before cascading into a graceful fall around her ankles. The pièce de résistance was the large, pear-shaped sapphire hanging from a white gold chain around her neck. It was a breathtaking ensemble.

"Finally!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with irritation. "You two are worse than me, now come!" With that, she turned and swept out the door, her heels clicking rhythmically on the polished marble. Luke and I exchanged a resigned glance before following in her wake.

Outside, a sleek black limousine awaited us. As we climbed inside, I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. The evening was about to begin, and with it, a night of carefully orchestrated appearances and obligatory small talk.

I leaned back against the soft leather, the faux-starry sky above offering little comfort. The faint scent of alcohol hung in the air, a stark contrast to the luxurious interior. Luke was the likely culprit, his penchant for experimentation with spirits well-known.

"Mum and Dad left ages ago," Gwen huffed, her voice carrying a hint of petulance. She pulled out a silver compact mirror and began her usual pre-event inspection. Vanity was a core part of her identity, a carefully cultivated facade that hid a sharp intellect.

"Pulchra, haven't you heard of fashionably late?" Luke teased, a mischievous glint in his eye. He knew using her middle name would inevitably irritate her.

Gwendolyn's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing into slits. "No, because there's nothing fashionable about my hair going flat, Gabriella," she retorted, a playful edge to her voice. The use of her middle name had the desired effect, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face.

A curt announcement broke the tense silence. 'It's Gabriel,' Luke muttered, his voice laced with annoyance," Luke said dryly as he gazed out the window, a pensive crease etching his brow, watching the an endless blur of glass and steel structures streak past the window. One thing I could count on when the three of us were together, was these two taking a stab at the other. It never failed."That's enough you two," I barked, "the last thing we need right now is A dog fight." Neither of them chuckled at what I thought was a clever pun. We're wolves, after all.