My Alpha Took the Wrong Bride

The basket of herbs felt heavier with each step as I made my way back from the pack border, my hands still trembling from what I'd just witnessed. The massive black wolf's golden eyes haunted me—so intelligent, so pained, yet somehow familiar in a way that made my chest ache.

I shouldn't have been there. The border was off-limits to Omegas like me, but Zoe had insisted I gather the rare moonbell flowers that only grew in those dangerous woods. "Since you're so useless otherwise," she'd sneered, "at least make yourself useful for once."

Now I understood why she'd sent me there. She'd known about the injured wolf all along.

The pack house buzzed with unusual energy when I slipped through the back entrance, hoping to avoid attention. But the excited voices drifting from the main hall made my stomach clench with dread.

"—found him just in time," Zoe's voice rang out, sweet and proud. "Poor thing was barely breathing when I discovered him by the old oak. I used the healing salves Mother taught me, worked through the night to stabilize him."

My blood turned to ice. Through the doorway, I could see her standing in the center of the room, basking in the admiring gazes of the pack members. Her golden hair caught the morning light streaming through the windows, making her look like some kind of angel.

"My brave daughter," Alpha Grant's voice boomed with pride. "To think you risked your own safety to save the Shadow Claw Alpha himself. The Moon Goddess has blessed our pack through your courage."

Shadow Claw Alpha. The wolf I'd saved was Rafael James—the one they called "The Gelding" in whispered conversations. The supposedly broken Alpha who couldn't shift properly after his war injuries.

But there had been nothing broken about the magnificent creature I'd found bleeding in the moonlight. His wolf form had been massive, powerful, radiating an authority that made my own wolfless soul tremble in recognition.

"Zoe, that's not—" I started to speak, stepping forward, but my father's sharp glare cut me off like a blade.

"What are you doing here, Willow?" His voice carried that familiar tone of disappointment. "Shouldn't you be in the kitchens?"

Zoe's blue eyes found mine across the room, and her smile turned predatory. "Oh, Willow helped a little," she said with false generosity. "She carried my supplies."

The lie burned in my throat, but when Zoe's fingers traced the small silver locket at her neck—the one containing the last photo of my mother—I swallowed my words. She'd made her threats clear enough over the years. One wrong move from me, and my mother's few remaining belongings would disappear forever.

That's when I noticed him.

Rafael James sat in the corner of the room, supposedly weak and recovering, but his dark eyes were alert, watching everything with predatory focus. When his gaze found mine, something flickered across his features. Recognition? Suspicion? I couldn't tell.

He was devastatingly handsome in his human form—tall and