Blythe Everard: Never Kiss The Alpha

"Blythe Everard! It is one thing that your womb remains empty of a wolf-pup, but now you dare fail the High Alpha’s household?"

Honoria Northcott’s screech echoed from the lower floor of the Silvermere Moon Estate, vibrating through the stone walls and setting Blythe’s inner wolf pacing in agitation. Frost crept along the windowpane, signaling the brutal winter settling over the Frostmere Border Territory.

"Are you trying to starve me and Benedict to death before the pack patrol?"

Blythe lay motionless on the velvet settee, her heart numb. For six long years, she had carried the mark of High Alpha Caspian Northcott’s mate in name only. Six years of his mother branding her a barren, useless female. Yet none of the pack elders cared to acknowledge the truth: Caspian had never once bared his fangs, touched her skin, or marked her neck since the day of their Moon-Bond.

"Get down here and sort my training pack right now! I have mandatory trials at the Northcott Alpha Dominion, for Moon's sake!" Benedict bellowed from the hall.

Benedict, Caspian’s younger brother and the Beta Heir, was a ruthless menace. Ever since Blythe had entered the packhouse as Caspian's bride, Benedict had treated her like a lowly Omega, using every opportunity to claw at her pride.

Blythe forced her trembling body off the sofa. She walked downstairs into the scent of cold stone and pine, stepping into the kitchen. Without a word, she prepared the high-protein feast required for elite wolves, packed Benedict’s leather harness, and set the heavy silver plates upon the oak table.

"Mother, the meal is served," Blythe said softly.

Honoria’s sharp, golden eyes flashed with instant disdain at Blythe’s blank face. She slammed down her goblet of blood-wine, splash marks staining the polished wood.

"Look at you! You feast on my son’s hunt, shelter under his territory, yet you carry the face of a rogue executioner! Believe me, Blythe, I will mind-link Caspian this very second and demand a complete Moon-Bond Dissolution!"

Blythe’s hand, resting on the edge of the platter, tightened until her knuckles turned ivory. She drew in a deep, unsteady breath and lowered her head. "I mean no disrespect, Matriarch."

Honoria sneered, leaning forward, her claws extending just enough to catch the faint candlelight. "Do not think that because the Elder Luna protected your place, your title as Mrs. Northcott is sealed. You are a shadow compared to Calista!"

The mention of that name struck Blythe like a silver blade to the chest. Her skin turned deathly pale. Her inner wolf whined, curling into a defensive ball deep within her chest.

Benedict watched the exchange with a cruel grin, tearing into a piece of rare meat. "Haven't you heard, Blythe? Calista Veyne is fully healed from her silver-poisoning at the Silverfang Healing Sanctuary. Caspian is bringing his Former Fated Bond right here to live in the main packhouse tomorrow."

Blythe’s eyelids twitched violently. Her fingers trembled against her sides, nails digging into her palms until she nearly drew blood.

Honoria scoffed at Blythe’s silent agony, waving a hand in absolute disgust. "Remove yourself from my sight! Your pathetic energy ruins the air. Get out!"

Blythe turned without another word, retreating back up the grand staircase. She retreated to the balcony of her cold bedchamber, staring out into the snow-swept forest.

Moments later, the heavy thrum of an engine cut through the howling wind. A obsidian armored transport pulled into the courtyard below, bearing the crest of the Northcott Alpha Dominion.

Blythe leaned over the marble railing, her chest tightening.

A towering figure stepped out into the freezing air. Caspian Northcott moved with lethal, predatory grace, his broad shoulders commanding the space around him. Dressed in the dark leather coat of a High Alpha, his sharp facial structure and piercing dark eyes commanded absolute dominance. He paused, his sharp senses catching her gaze above. He turned his face upward. His eyes were cold, distant, completely devoid of the warmth a true mate ought to give.

Blythe’s lips twitched into a hollow smile, well used to the icy wall between them.

She turned back into the master suite, drawing a steaming bath scented with soothing wolfsbane leaves, trying to soothe the burning pain in her chest. She heard the heavy oak door open, the lethal scent of cedar, snow, and dominant Alpha pheromones flooding the room.

"Caspian..." Blythe began softly, keeping her distance as he unbuckled his heavy leather gauntlets. "The Matriarch called from the Elderfang Research Hall earlier. She prayed over the sacred fires for your safety during the border patrol—"

"We need to speak," Caspian interrupted, his deep voice cutting through the steam like a razor.

Blythe stopped in her tracks. Caspian didn't look at her; his dark gaze remained fixed on the frosted window. His thin lips parted, releasing words that shattered the air between them.

"Calista is coming home tomorrow. You will pack your belongings and vacate the Everard Alpha Tower before sunrise."

The blood in Blythe’s veins turned to ice. Benedict’s taunt had not been a lie. Her mate was bringing his former fated back to the heart of his pack, casting her aside like unwanted trash.

"And if I refuse to leave?" Blythe asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper, trembling like smoke in the air.

Caspian’s dark brows furrowed instantly. It was the very first time in six years that this submissive female had ever dared to voice defiance against his command. The Alpha aura around him flared, dropping the room's temperature instantly.

"Do not test me, Blythe," Caspian warned, his tone dropping to a deadly, gravelly register. "Have you forgotten the exact terms of how you secured this Moon-Bond six years ago?"

How could she ever forget?

Six years ago, a rogue attack had left Calista Veyne bleeding out from a rogue's silver blade. It was Blythe who had dragged Calista’s broken body from the wreckage. It was Blythe whose rare, golden-blood transfusions had saved Calista from the brink of true death. In his overwhelming desperation and gratitude, High Alpha Caspian had vowed to grant Blythe any single request she desired.

And Blythe, driven by a foolish, hopeless mate-bond devotion that had burned in her chest since she was a young wolf, had asked for only one thing: to become his Luna.

Caspian stepped closer, his shadow completely engulfing her small frame, his eyes flashing dangerous amber. "I honored my vow to you then. But now, the debt is settled." He reached into his coat, pulling out a thick, parchment document stamped with the blood-red wax seal of the Pack Council. He threw it onto the table between them. "Sign the Moon-Bond Dissolution papers, Blythe. You leave at dawn."