Woke Up Lost, Became His Alpha Queen

The forest floor was a blur of wet leaves and black soil under my bare feet, a desperate escape from a monster whose shadow felt like the end of the world. Then, nothing. I woke up in a lavish room, my body aching, my arm broken, and my mind a terrifying blank slate, with no memory of who I was or how I got there.

Panic, cold and slick, wrapped around my throat. I tried to remember my name, my home, my pack – anything – but there was only a vast, terrifying emptiness where my life should have been.

The Alpha, Kaelen, a man of formidable power and chilling detachment, found me and planned to send me away to a neutral shelter, a terrifying prospect of being cast out again. Yet, when I desperately craved chocolate mousse and raw venison, he secretly provided them, a strange indulgence hidden from his pack.

The fragile safety shattered when agonizing pain coiled in my gut, forcing a raw scream of his name. He came, silent and rigid, guiding me through the intimate agony. In that moment of absolute vulnerability, a profound certainty bloomed: "You're my Alpha Prince."

The words struck him like a physical blow. His eyes, usually cold as river stones, flashed with raw, hunted panic before the mask slammed back down. He walked away without a word, leaving me with a terrifying question: What truth had I stumbled upon, and why did my desperate devotion ignite such fear in the most powerful wolf I knew?

Chapter 1

Third Person Limited POV:

The smell of roasting meat and baking bread usually dominated the kitchens of the von Hellberg Packhouse, a thick, comforting blanket of wealth and abundance. But this morning, another scent had seeped in: gossip. Sharp and thin, like smoke from a dying fire.

"A ploy," Annelise Croft said, her voice a low hiss as she polished a silver serving platter with more force than necessary. The friction was a punishment for the metal. "She’s faking it. No rogue just collapses on the Alpha's patrol route, looking like a half-drowned kitten. She wanted to be found." Her eyes, hard as chips of flint, darted to the younger Omegas dicing vegetables. "And we all know what a pretty she-wolf wants from an unmated Alpha."

Barry Thorne, a lanky boy barely a year into his service, flinched. "But Gamma Harlan said her arm was broken. Badly. And the cuts on her neck…"

"Silver," Annelise snapped, setting the platter down with a sharp clang that made the boy jump. "A few scratches from a slave collar to sell the story. Lady Dahlia would never be so clumsy."

"It wasn't a few scratches," Barry mumbled, his gaze fixed on his cutting board. His knuckles were white around the handle of his knife. "I saw him when he came back through the west gate. Before the healers got to her. The Alpha… he carried her himself. All the way from the Black Forest. Her head