The Alpha Who Noticed Me

Alpha Damon’s POV

The moment I arrived at the Moon Howlers Pack, something felt wrong. It was not one thing I could point to. It was the weight in the air, the careful smiles, the way every conversation seemed to stop a second too late when I entered a room.

Eighteen years ago, I remembered hearing that Beta Blake and Ursela had twin daughters. Since my arrival, however, they had only spoken of one. Morgan.

They doted on her openly, presenting her like a jewel polished for display, but there was no mention of the other girl. No photograph. No name spoken with grief or pride. Nothing. That kind of silence had teeth.

I had not wanted to come to this mating ball. The elders had pushed and argued until I finally agreed, insisting that finding my Luna would strengthen the pack and settle the unrest they claimed to sense around me.

I was perfectly capable of leading without one, but they would not let the matter rest. So I came with my Beta, Jacob, telling myself I was only here to appease them. Maybe Jacob would find his mate. Maybe I would endure a few formal dinners, smile when required, and leave. But the longer I remained inside that pack house, the deeper that wrongness settled beneath my skin.

While the others were outside training, socializing, or whatever passed for normal routine here, I stayed behind and walked the halls, trying to understand what my instincts were warning me about.

Then I caught the scent. Wildflowers and rain. It hit me so hard I stopped mid-step, every muscle in my body locking in place. The scent was soft and clean, yet it tore through me with the force of a command.

My wolf, Stowne, surged forward so fast my claws nearly pushed through. Mate. That is our mate. Find her. His need slammed into mine until there was no separating us.

I know, I told him, forcing myself to breathe through the shock. We will find where it is coming from.

I followed the scent through the halls, each step making my heart pound harder. It grew stronger near the beta floor, wrapping around me until I could taste rain on my tongue and feel the phantom brush of petals against my skin.

Mate is close, Stowne growled, frantic now.

I wanted to snap at him to stay calm, but I could barely manage calm myself.

Then I saw her. She was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floors like she expected punishment for every spot left behind. I stopped behind a pillar before she could see me. She lifted her head slightly and sniffed the air, and the small movement pierced me in a way I did not understand.

She was beautiful, but not in the polished, pampered way this pack admired. Her beauty was buried beneath exhaustion, hunger, and pain. Her raven-black hair hung dull around her face. Her emerald eyes were guarded and hollow. Her clothes were little more than rags, hanging from a body far too thin to belong to any healthy wolf. Scars marked the skin I could see, and fresh pain seemed to live in every careful movement she made.

Stowne, she is being treated like a slave, I said, fury burning cold in my chest.

Who is she? My wolf shoved forward, desperate for a better look. She has been beaten. Look at the scars. I can barely sense her wolf. Who would dare do this to our mate?

I had no answer, and that made the rage worse. I stayed hidden and followed at a distance while she worked, though every instinct in me demanded I step out, take her into my arms, and remove her from this place immediately. But something told me one wrong move could put her in more danger.

So I watched. I learned. I kept my presence masked as she finished her chores and moved like someone trained to vanish. Just before the pack began returning, she slipped through a door in the kitchen. A door that should have led to storage or servants’ access, not a bedroom.

What is through that door? I asked Stowne, my stomach tightening. That cannot be where she stays.

I don’t know, he snarled. But we need our mate. We need to move quickly.

For once, I agreed with every violent edge in his voice. Tomorrow night they had a barbecue planned for the guests before the mating ball on Saturday. Before then, I would speak to Beta Blake and Ursela. I would ask about their missing daughter. I would ask about the broken girl cleaning their floors. And I would find out exactly what this pack was hiding.

After lunch, I found Beta Blake and requested a private discussion. Of course, Alpha Amos and Luna Sheila joined us as well. Their presence did not surprise me. Packs with nothing to hide did not need witnesses for simple questions. Packs with secrets made sure everyone responsible for the lie stood in the same room.

I kept my posture respectful, my expression controlled, and my wolf buried just deep enough that my eyes would not flash. “Alpha Amos,” I began, inclining my head, “I understand this is your territory, and I have no intention of disrespecting you or your pack. However, I have a few questions for Beta Blake and Ursela, if you do not mind me addressing them.”

Alpha Amos nodded, but his wolf pressed close behind his eyes. Watching. Measuring.

Good. Let him watch. I turned to Blake and Ursela. “Beta Blake, I remember hearing that you and Ursela had twin girls eighteen years ago. Since I arrived, I have only seen you with one daughter. If you do not mind me asking, where is your other daughter?”

The reaction was small, but I saw it. Blake’s mouth tightened. Ursela’s eyes flashed with something too ugly to be grief before she smoothed her face into sorrow.

Disgust. That was what it had been. Disgust, quickly covered by practiced pain.

“It is not something we like to talk about,” Blake said, his voice heavy in all the wrong places. “It hurts us too much. We lost her a few days after she was born.”

You know they are lying, right? Stowne growled.

Yes, I answered silently. But I want to see how far they will take it.

I let sympathy settle across my face. “I am sorry to hear that. How did it happen, if you do not mind me asking?”

For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. Their grief vanished too fast, leaving panic in its place.

Ursela recovered first. “We do not like to talk about it. It brings up too much for us.”

I nodded slowly, memorizing every flicker of unease. “Of course. I am sorry for your loss.” Then I turned to Alpha Amos, shifting the blade of the conversation before any of them could relax. “While I was walking the halls today, I noticed a young woman doing chores throughout the pack house alone. She looked severely malnourished and injured. Can you tell me who she is, why she is working alone, and why she appears to have been beaten?”

The silence that followed was telling. Then Alpha Amos began to lie. “She was among a group of rogues who attacked us,” he said. “When we captured her, she refused to cooperate. We withheld food and assigned her the worst jobs because she became our pack slave. She acts out often. Stealing. Disobeying. She is punished when necessary.”

Every word pushed Stowne closer to the surface. A growl vibrated through my chest before I forced it down.

I knew about rogue attacks across the country. I tracked them, especially in packs under my protection or influence. No attack like that had been reported here. No captured rogue female. No reason for a girl to be starved, beaten, and hidden inside a pack house.

They were not only lying. They were comfortable lying. That told me this had been going on for a long time.

“Would it be possible for me to speak with her?” I asked, keeping my voice even though my patience was thinning. “If she was part of an attack, I may be able to learn where she came from or whether there are other rogues nearby.”

Their eyes glazed almost immediately. Mind-link. Blake, Ursela, Amos, maybe Sheila too. They were scrambling for an answer they could all survive.

Finally, Alpha Amos looked back at me. “I do not think that would be a good idea. She is getting what she deserves. Now, if that is everything, I have important business to attend to.”

“Dismissed.” He says with a wave of his hand. In his own territory, he thought that meant something. I stood slowly and bowed my head with enough respect to keep the room from exploding.

Not yet, I reminded Stowne as his rage clawed at my control. Not here. Not before I knew where she was sleeping, who watched her, and how quickly I could get her out. I reminded Stowne.

“Thank you for your time,” I said. Then I turned and walked out, already making a promise in silence. Whoever she was, whatever name they had stolen from her, she would not remain here. She would leave this pack with me.

You know we have to save her, Stowne said, his voice rough with a kind of pain I had never heard from him before. They are hurting our mate.

I know, I told him. The words felt inadequate against the fury building inside me. And we will. But if we rush in blind, they may hide her, move her, or punish her before we can reach her.

Stowne snarled so violently my canines ached. Then we do not let them breathe long enough to try.

The savage part of me agreed. I wanted to tear down every door in that pack house until I found her. I wanted to drag Blake, Ursela, and Amos in front of their own people and make them answer for every scar on her body. But being an Alpha meant knowing when rage was useful and when it could cost someone innocent their life.

I needed proof. I needed her location. I needed to know whether the doctor, the staff, or anyone else might help me reach her without setting the whole pack on alert.

I headed back to my room and locked the door behind me. Then I mind-linked Jacob and told him to start looking into Beta Blake, Ursela, their daughters, and any record of a rogue attack that supposedly ended with a captured female slave.

If the other daughter had truly died, there would be records. If she had not, there would be a trail someone had tried to bury.

I paced while I waited, the scent of wildflowers and rain still haunting me as if she had touched my skin and left something behind. I had only seen her from a distance, but already the bond had begun to settle deep inside me, painful and undeniable.

Somewhere in this house, my mate was alone, she was probably hungry, and afraid. I pressed my hands against the desk and forced myself to breathe.

“Hold on,” I whispered into the quiet room, though she could not hear me. “Just hold on a little longer. I am coming for you.”