Claimed By The Enemy Alphas

Andalia moved through the crowd like smoke, quiet and unnoticed. The glass in her hand was mostly for show, she hadn’t taken a proper sip since arriving.

The hall was packed with finely dressed people, laughing too loudly, moving too quickly, like they were all trying to convince each other that happiness was a shared disease.

She didn’t belong here, not really. She was only invited because it was the Alpha’s birthday, and because today, gods help her, she’d planned to tell him.

Tell him he was her mate.

Her grip on the glass tightened.

No one paid her much attention as she slipped past the banquet tables, avoiding every familiar face. She knew exactly where she wanted to be. Somewhere high and quiet to think of what she could say, and the possibilities of his reply.

The roof.

The soft heels of her shoes made almost no sound as she climbed the narrow stairs hidden behind the long velvet drapes.

She discovered this passage by accident as a kid. It was the best place to watch the pack from above, where the world felt smaller, and decisions didn’t weigh so much.

Just as she turned the final step, glass still in hand, she collided with something solid and warm.

Or someone.

The glass wobbled in her grip, sloshing but not spilling. She caught her balance, heart jolting as she looked up into a pair of forest green eyes.

The stranger steadied her gently. “Easy,” he said in a voice that could have convinced anyone to listen a little longer. “Wasn’t expecting company up here.”

Andalia blinked, trying to reorient her mind. He wasn’t from the pack.

His presence was too... offbeat.

His dark shirt had a smooth texture, formal but not traditional.

The silver embroidery near his collar shimmered faintly under the moonlight. It matched something she’d seen earlier, a car, maybe. Guards.

“You’re not from here,” she said before she could think of it, tilting her head to get a better look at his face.

“No,” he replied simply. “Neither are you, judging by the way you’re trying not to be seen.”

Her breath hitched. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know when someone’s hiding,” he said. “I’m good at spotting runaways.”

“I’m not running,” she snapped, too quickly.

“Sure you’re not.” He smiled. “Let me guess. You’re here to tell the Alpha something important. Something you’re afraid he won’t like.”

She hesitated.

He leaned against the railing, one hand resting casually in his pocket. “You don’t have to confirm it. It’s all over your face.”

“Why do you care?” she asked.

“I don’t.” He looked up at the sky. “But you looked like you needed someone to say it first.”

Andalia hated how true that felt.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The noise from the hall filtered up faintly, but it felt miles away.

“I didn’t come up here for conversation,” she muttered.

“Then I’ll make it worth your while.” He turned to her, eyes glinting. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

She blinked. “That’s a weird question.”

“So is climbing onto the roof during a party.”

She hesitated, then sighed. “I used to.”

“And now?”

“Now I think it’s just a pretty lie we tell ourselves so we don’t feel so alone.”

That was a lie, she actually did, but her doubts never seemed to clear, especially after her father's death.

He smiled like she’d just passed a test. “Good. That means you’re smarter than most.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you always lurk at parties and psychoanalyze strangers?”

“Only the ones who sparkle and look sad at the same time.”

That startled a laugh out of her. It wasn’t loud, but it was actually real.

“What about you?” she asked. “What are you doing up here?”

“Hiding. Watching. Avoiding handshakes.” He glanced down at the courtyard below. “Same as you, more or less.”

Andalia followed his gaze, and then she saw him.

The Alpha.

Laughing.

Head thrown back, one hand around the waist of a tall, curvy brunette in a crimson dress. Her lips were painted as red as the wine she held, her arm pressed confidently against his.

Her chest tightened.

The stranger beside her watched it all in silence. Then he spoke, voice cooler now.

“Let me guess. That’s him.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

He let out a low breath. “He looks like the kind of man who only notices you when no one else is around to compete.”

Andalia stiffened. “You don’t know him.”

“I don’t have to,” he said. “I’ve seen that look before. He sees you when he’s bored. Not when it matters.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then why are you up here and she’s down there?”

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass.

“You deserve better,” the stranger said softly. “Even if you don’t think so.”

His words slid into her ribs like a slow knife. She hated how easily he’d read her. How much she wished he was wrong.

He looked at her again, really looked. “Tell me this. If he looked at you right now... what would you feel? Relief? Or dread?”

She couldn’t answer.

The stranger’s gaze drifted once more toward the Alpha. Something shifted in his face, calculation, perhaps, or something heavier.

“Apologies, Andalia,” he said suddenly, his tone changing. He straightened, brushing invisible lint off his sleeve. “I have to attend to something urgently.”

“You didn’t even tell me your name.”

He gave her a smile. Not warm, but not cruel either. “That’s because names create expectations and I wouldn't want to do that to you, my dear.”

He stepped toward the stairs, then paused, and turned around, and walked back to her, closing the little distance between them.

“Don’t wait for people who look at everyone but you,” he whispered, slowly moving his hands around her waist. When she didn't make a move, he leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“You look wonderful tonight Natalie,” he whispered again, then smiled. “I hope we meet again, and maybe get to have a proper chat and possibly do more than respectfully touching you.” he said, chuckling softly when she hid her stained cheeks and turned around.

Then he was gone.

Andalia stood frozen for a long time, glass in hand, heart heavier than before.

She heaved a sigh and stood up as well, leaping off the roof and landing in a corner where no one would notice.

Unfortunately, her mate, the Alpha, saw her and froze.

She also froze, suddenly paralyzed as their eyes met. She could feel his heart beating rapidly in rhythm with hers. His eyes held an affectionate gleam, but then, just as quickly, they went dark.

He frowned deeply, his eyes scanning her from head to toe as if she were nothing more than a discarded piece of trash. The scrutiny in his gaze was insulting, but she wanted to believe it was just shock.

"Who are you?" he asked, stepping closer. She parted her lips to respond, but he cut her off before she had the chance.

"It doesn’t matter anyway," he said coldly. "Your name must be as irrelevant as you."

Her heart clenched at the words. It would have been easier if he had just walked away, but he had chosen to confront her instead. She wasn’t prepared for that. Glancing behind him, she noticed people beginning to take interest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, on the verge of tears. She hadn’t expected him to be this hostile.

Was it her appearance? The way she dressed? Something she had done?

It couldn’t be. He had barely even acknowledged her since she arrived.

Before she could dwell on it further, he grabbed her arm and yanked her toward the center of the dance floor. The force of his push made her stumble, and she fell hard onto the polished floor.

“Good day, everyone," he announced, his voice cutting through the murmurs in the room. "I apologize for interrupting the celebration, but I need to make something clear to you all."

His voice carried like a microphone, commanding everyone's attention. She could feel her wolf, Luna, writhing inside her, as if already sensing the pain that was about to come.

"This girl here," he said, gesturing toward her with a look of disgust, "unfortunately turns out to be my mate."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, followed by hushed whispers. But as soon as he raised his hand, the murmurs died down.

She dropped her head in shame, wishing she had never met him, especially not like this.

‘He’s going to humiliate me in front of everyone and then expect me to live with it,’ she thought, her fists clenching as tears spilled down her cheeks.

"But I will not risk my reputation or dignity for a trashy-looking thing like her and I wouldn't want her creating trouble for me," he continued, his voice unwavering. "So today, I reject you, And I do not want to see your face in my mansion again, unless, of course, you wish to be thrown into the dungeons."