After My Alpha Chose Power Over His Mate

The storm didn’t scare me. Silence was the only thing that truly haunted these woods, and I carried enough of that inside myself to last a lifetime.

The rain lashed against my face, stinging and cold, as I navigated the slippery rocks of the riverbank. I was an Omega, an exile living on the fringes of the Blood Moon Pack’s territory. To them, I was the mute girl, the wolfless defect who deserved to be forgotten. But out here, amidst the roar of the river and the cracking thunder, I felt strangely alive.

I was scavenging for driftwood—fuel for the coming winter—when I saw him.

A massive shape, dark as a starless night, lay tangled in the jagged rocks where the current smashed against the shore. My heart hammered against my ribs. It was a wolf. Not just any wolf, but a creature of sheer, terrifying size. Even in the pouring rain, I could smell the metallic tang of blood.

Instinct screamed at me to run. A rogue wolf of that size could tear me apart in seconds. But then I saw his chest heave, a ragged, desperate motion. He whimpered, a sound so broken it shattered my fear instantly. My hands, usually trembling when I faced the pack, steadied. I was a healer’s daughter before I was an exile.

I dropped my bundle of wood and scrambled down the muddy bank. The water bit at my ankles, freezing and violent. Up close, the damage was horrific. Deep gashes tore through his midnight fur, exposing muscle and bone. He was dying.

I couldn't speak to soothe him, couldn't whisper that everything would be okay. Instead, I placed my small hands on his wet, matted flank. He flinched but didn't attack. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed his front legs. He was impossibly heavy, dead weight against the slick mud. I dug my heels in, pulling with every ounce of strength my malnourished body possessed. Inch by inch, slipping and sliding, I dragged him away from the rising water and toward the safety of my cabin.

By the time I got him inside, near the hearth, I was gasping for air, my clothes soaked. I collapsed beside him, my fingers already reaching for the jars of salve I kept on the shelf.

As I turned back with the bandages, the air in the cabin shifted. It grew heavy, charged with static.

The snapping of bones echoed over the sound of the rain. I watched, wide-eyed, as the black fur receded. The snout shortened, the claws retracted, and the massive beast shifted into the form of a man.

He was naked, shivering violently, and covered in scars that weren't from the river. Even wounded, his body was a masterpiece of lethal power—broad shoulders, corded muscle, and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. I quickly threw a rough wool blanket over him, my cheeks heating up.

He groaned, his eyelids fluttering open. His eyes were the color of stormy seas, gray and tumultuous.