FATED TO THE ALPHA I HATE

Kael Pov

I closed the medical room door behind me and the lock clicked into place.

"Maria," I said without turning around.

"Yes, Alpha?"

"No visitors. I want a full report on every word she says. Every movement and everything."

Maria bowed her head. "Understood."

I walked down the corridor and my footsteps echoed against the stone walls. The pack house was quiet at this hour and most of the wolves were either training or patrolling the borders. Good, I needed time to think.

The silence wrapped around me like a heavy cloak as I moved through the long hallway, the dim lights casting slow shadows across the floor. My mind was racing, turning over every possibility, every hidden meaning behind what had just happened. Elara Moonshadow lying half-dead on our border could not be a coincidence. Nothing involving the Moonshadow family ever was.

I dragged a hand across my face and exhaled slowly, trying to steady the storm of thoughts building in my head. Somewhere behind those medical doors she was fighting to stay alive, and if she survived, answers would follow. The problem was that answers in our world rarely came without consequences-and I had a feeling those consequences were already closing in around us.

My office was at the end of the hall and I pushed the door open. The familiar scent of leather and pine greeted me but there was something else too. Something that made my wolf stir restlessly.

Her scent.

It clung to my clothes from when I carried her. Sweet and floral with an underlying edge of fear and blood, moon Chosen blood.

Darius Moonshadow's blood.

I sat behind my desk and pulled open the bottom drawer. Inside were the clothes we'd cut off her. The ruined wedding dress that Maria had salvaged before burning the rest.

Ivory silk, Expensive and Bloodstained.

A wedding dress.

I lifted the fabric and held it up to the light. The stitching was perfect and the material was fine enough that it must have cost a fortune. This wasn't just any dress, this was made for someone important.

For an Alpha's daughter.

My fingers tightened around the silk and I brought it closer. Her scent was stronger here, mingling with pack scent, Silvercrest, and something else: male wolf, not Darius.

Someone else had been very close to her.

A growl rumbled in my chest before I could stop it.

I threw the dress on the desk and stood up. I needed to focus, this wasn't about her or her scent or the way my wolf had gone strangely quiet when I held her.

This was about revenge.

This was about justice for my father.

Ten years ago Darius Moonshadow had challenged my father to single combat over a border dispute. It should have been a fair fight, an honorable duel between Alphas.

But Darius cheated.

He used wolfsbane poison on his claws. Just enough to weaken my father without being obvious. Just enough to make sure he won.

My father died in that clearing and Darius walked away with expanded territory and a reputation as a fearsome warrior.

No one knew about the poison except me. I'd found traces of it in my father's wounds when I prepared his body for burial, but I was only nineteen and newly appointed Alpha and I had no proof. No witnesses, nothing except suspicion and rage.

The memory still burned like a fresh wound. I could still see the faint dark stain around the injury, smell the bitter metallic scent that didn't belong there. It wasn't the kind of thing most people would notice, but something about it had felt wrong the moment I saw it. I'd spent nights afterward researching old pack records and herbal toxins, trying to convince myself I was imagining things. But the evidence, small as it was, pointed to one truth-my father hadn't simply died in battle. Someone had made sure he wouldn't survive it.

Standing there now, years later, the same anger simmered beneath my skin. Without proof I'd been forced to bury my suspicions along with him. But deep down I had never stopped searching for the one who had taken him from me.

The Council wouldn't act without evidence and Darius was too careful to leave any.

So I waited.

I built my pack stronger, trained harder as I planned.

And now his daughter had fallen right into my hands.

I sat back down and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment. My hand hovered over the paper for a moment before I started writing.

"Darius, Found a silver-haired rogue female on my territory. Severely wounded, claims no pack. Interested?"

I read it over twice. The tone was perfect and casual, almost bored. Like I had no idea who she was.

But Darius would know.

He would recognize the description. Silver hair was rare and combined with the timing and the location he would put it together.

The question was what he did about it.

Would he demand her return? Would he offer a ransom? Would he pretend not to care?

Any response would be useful.

I folded the letter and sealed it with wax. Tomorrow I will send it with a neutral messenger-someone who couldn't be traced back to any particular allegiance.

For now I just needed to wait.

I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. Sleep should have come easily. I'd been awake for almost two days dealing with border patrols and pack business.

But my mind wouldn't quiet.

I kept seeing her face. Pale and blood-streaked and so damn fragile looking. I kept feeling her weight in my arms. Too light, like she was made of nothing but bones and determination.

She killed a warrior wolf with a pocket knife.

Marcus had gone back to check the clearing where we found her and he'd discovered the body. A full-grown male wolf with his throat cut open, defensive wounds on his muzzle where he'd tried to shake her off.

A wolfless girl had killed him.

What kind of desperation drove someone to that?

I stood up and started pacing. My office suddenly felt too small and the walls pressed in on me.

This was wrong.

She was supposed to be leverage. A tool. A means to an end.

But when I looked at her lying in that bed something in my chest had twisted painfully. Something protective, possessive, and completely unwelcome.

It was an instinct I didn't understand and certainly didn't want. She was the daughter of a rival Alpha, a complication my pack didn't need, yet the sight of her pale face against the white sheets stirred something fierce inside me. My wolf paced restlessly beneath my skin, alert and watchful, as if guarding something precious.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to step back from the bed, trying to shake off the strange pull. This was dangerous-emotion where there should only be strategy. Still, as I turned to leave, I found myself glancing back at her once more, uneasy at how strongly that unfamiliar feeling refused to fade.

My wolf had purred when she curled toward my warmth.

Purred.

I was losing my mind.

I grabbed the wedding dress fabric again and crushed it in my fist. The silk crumpled easily and her scent rose stronger. Sweet and terrified and somehow still defiant underneath it all.

Who was she really?

Not the spoiled princess I'd imagined. Not the pampered daughter of a powerful Alpha.

Someone had tried to kill her. Multiple people, based on the wounds. The cuts were too different-one clean and precise, another jagged like it came from a serrated blade. And she'd been running in a wedding dress, which meant something had gone very wrong very quickly.

The satin was no longer white. Mud clung to the hem, turning it a sickly gray, and streaks of red had soaked through the lace sleeves. One shoe was missing. The other dangled from her fingers as if she'd forgotten she was still holding it.

She staggered forward another few steps before collapsing against the rusted railing of the bridge.

Her chest burned. Every breath scraped through her throat like broken glass.

Behind her, the forest was quiet now.

Too quiet.

She listened-really listened-forcing herself to stay still despite the tremor running through her body. No shouting. No snapping branches. No footsteps crashing through leaves.

Had she lost them?

Or were they letting her think she had?

Her mind flashed back to the church. The music. The doors bursting open. The look on his face-

Her stomach twisted.

"No," she whispered to herself, shaking her head as if she could physically push the memory away.

A distant car engine hummed somewhere down the road.

Hope sparked, small but fierce.

She pushed herself upright, gripping the railing until the metal dug into her palms. If she could just reach the road... just one car, one person willing to stop...

Headlights suddenly crested the hill.

She froze.

For a moment the world held its breath.

Then the lights slowed.

The car was stopping.

Relief surged through her so violently her knees nearly buckled. She stumbled forward into the road, waving her arms weakly.

The driver's door opened.

A man stepped out.

Tall. Dark coat. Calm.

Too calm.

And when the headlights shifted, she saw his face clearly.

The same face that had been standing at the altar.

What happened on her wedding day?

I threw the fabric back on the desk and resumed pacing.

It didn't matter. Her past didn't matter. All that mattered was using her to get to Darius.

But even as I thought it I knew I was lying to myself.

Something about Elara Moonshadow had gotten under my skin and I couldn't shake it off.

The way she'd looked at me with those huge violet eyes. Terrified but trying so hard to be brave. The way she'd lied about her name even though she had to know I could find out the truth.

The way she'd begged me to let her go like freedom was the only thing she had left to hope for.

I stopped at the window and stared out at the moonlit grounds. My pack was settling in for the night and lights glowed in the windows of the surrounding houses.

This was my responsibility. These wolves. This territory, this legacy my father had died protecting.

I couldn't let sentiment distract me.