Marked by the Alphas

Elara POV

On my eighteenth birthday, Mason, the rogue Alpha I'd followed since childhood, marked me for the first time.

I thought it meant he was finally ready to accept me as his mate, the one he would spend his life with.

I floated through the entire night on a cloud of bliss, convinced my six-year-long love had finally culminated in a fairy-tale ending.

That is, until the next afternoon, when I approached the underground club where he and his bikers often gathered and overheard their conversation.

"Wow, Mason, you 'marked' little Elara already?" a voice said.

My face flushed crimson. I was about to slip away when Mason's careless voice, laced with that unique lupine arrogance, cut through the air.

"Of course not. Her wolf is weak—it is said that her dead father was a stupid human!"

He paused, and I could almost hear his dismissive shrug.

"My target is always Alice. She's a pureblood, and she knows a lot of secrets about those damn Alpha twin heirs. Only someone like Alice, with her pure bloodline, can help me return to the Constantine pack and shed this rogue wolf identity."

His biker friends laughed loudly, and his next sentence shattered my last hope. "Hell, even an Omega shows more passion than Elara does. Someone silly like her? Perfect for practice, to work on the skills of soothing a mate."

His words strike my soul like a lightning bolt. Despite the blazing afternoon sun, I feel thrown into an icy abyss.

After a brief pause, the conversation in the club resumes. "Future Alpha, indeed. Even a pretty girl like Elara is just a training tool."

Mason laughs, the sound devoid of warmth. "It's not exactly a loss. Having such an intimate connection with Alpha bloodline is an honor most lowly wolves would kill for."

My mind goes blank. Mason is just a bastard Alpha who is exiled from some pack. But I've never looked down on him, not once, even in the countless nights I've comforted him and praised him. And yet, here he is, reducing me to something beneath contempt.

Someone immediately chimes in. "You're right. She's nothing compared to a pureblood like Alice, who radiates pure power…"

Mason cuts him off. "It is the full moon, the mood is right that night… and honestly, she seems like she is about to combust with how much she is holding back. Her scent is practically drowning me…" His tone holds an embarrassing note of pity.

A few of them chuckle knowingly, their words turning cruder.

"Who knew quiet little Elara had such a… wild side?"

"Tsk, tsk, Mason's charm is just too potent. When the offering comes to you so willingly, why refuse?"

"She's been trailing after Mason like a lost puppy for years. She probably gets exactly what she'd been dreaming of."

Their raucous laughter feels like a physical blow. I bite my lip until I taste blood, my fists clench so tightly my nails dig half-moons into my palms. It takes every ounce of my strength just to stay upright.

Footsteps echo from the end of the hall. Jolted back to reality, I flee in a panic, ducking into the nearest restroom stall. Tears of heartbreak and humiliation pour out.

Mason's words, each one a barbed whip, lash relentlessly through my mind. Had I not heard it myself, I could never believe the boy who had been so intimate with me last night is the same person as this cold, calculating strategist.

So, it seems, a wolf can perform such an intimate marking without love. Even at their most passionate, they can still coldly utter the cruelest lies.

The more I cry, the worse I feel, but I don't dare sob aloud. I can only muffle the sounds, my body trembling uncontrollably in the confined space.

I don't know how long I hide there before my phone vibrates. It is a text from Mason.

[Head back on your own. Tonight's the biker's gathering. No outsiders allowed.]

It is always the same—he never once introduces me to his friends. I don't reply. Another message follows.

[And don't go telling anyone about last night. You know my bloodline can only be carried by a pureblood. Be good.]

Reading those words feels like a cold hand squeezing my heart. Last night, he held me close through the dark hours, his hands gentle, and left a temporary mark on the side of my neck—nothing more, though I'd been trembling, willing to give him everything. Exhausted, just before he falls asleep holding me, he specifically whispers in my ear, "It was your first marking. I didn't control my strength well. Get some rest."

Back then, I mistook the marking for his unique way of claiming me, a quiet promise of forever. Now… the truth feels like a bucket of ice water, shocking me awake.

I pinch the already bruised skin of my palm, forcing the tears to stop. I splash cold water on my face, fix my appearance, and walk out of the restroom.

I let myself into my apartment and lock the door behind me. The moment it clicks shut, all my strength leaves me. I slump onto the carpet, my eyes empty.

Ever since Mason moved next door to our community, I've been like a small animal drawn to the Alpha's scent, naively trailing behind him for ten years.

I never imagined a world without him in it.

But from now on, the door to his world is closed to me. I am utterly alone.

Outside the window, lights flicker on one by one, and eventually, most go dark again. I don't know how long I sit there, lost in a daze, until my best friend Mindy video-calls.

Mason never lets me tell anyone about our relationship. He always says we have to wait until he defeats the Constantine Alpha twin heirs and truly becomes the Alpha before he can give me the happiness I want.

I obediently protect this fragile connection. Mindy had once caught him in my bedroom—she is one of the few who knows about my feelings for Mason.

Mindy is dressed hot.

"Elara! Why aren't you with Mason? I'm at a bar, and guess who I just see?" Her expression is furious, but she lowers her voice as she quietly rotates the phone's camera.

The screen reveals a dimly lit corner of the party, where Mason and Alice are sitting close together. Alice wears a cropped top and a tight leather skirt, her curves highlighted, exuding a wild, confident beauty. They seem enveloped in an invisible force field, completely isolated from the crowd around them.

A suffocating pain grips my chest. Mason's so-called motorcycle club gathering this afternoon had been a lie.

He is chasing her, so he just wants me to stay far away.

Alice is playing a game and draws the "male to display strength" challenge by doing push-ups over her. Predictably, Mason immediately steps up, his eyes gleaming with that raw desire male wolves have to show off. The crowd erupts in cheers. Alice, blushing with feigned shyness, lays back on the couch.

Mason positions himself above her, his movements fluid and powerful as he knocks out several dozen push-ups, his muscle lines taut under the dim light.

He maintains a careful distance, avoiding actually touching her. Until the last one, where his arms give way slightly, and he lowers himself, gently pressing against her.

The screams around them are almost deafening. Both Mason and Alice's faces flush deeper red.

Amid the wild cheering, Mason lowers his head and kisses Alice deeply. It is a long, possessive French kiss that lasts a full three minutes before they break apart.

For those three minutes, I stare unblinkingly at the screen, feeling my heart being torn wide open, letting in nothing but cold, empty air. I want to cry, but I have no tears left after this afternoon. All that remains is a dry, aching pain.

"Phew, Elara, did you see that? That's Alice! Who doesn't know she's the Alpha twins' little sex toy? Mason's gone crazy! How dare he touch the twins' woman!" Mindy keeps ranting, "I've been saying Mason's not a good guy!"

Mindy says, sighing as she walks out of the booth into a quieter corner. Her tone turns serious.

"Elara, don't hate me for being harsh. But if I didn't make you see it with your own eyes, you'd never let go."

My throat is so dry and tight my voice comes out raspy. "Yeah. I don't blame you."

I only blame myself for foolishly indulging in fantasies and finding a thousand excuses for Mason's indifference.

"I just can't stand Mason! He knows how you feel and yet he lets you get close, feeds on your emotional energy, watches you sink deeper and deeper!

"Now you finally see the truth! You deserve better! Don't let him keep you chained until you lose yourself completely…"

"That won't happen, Mindy," I interrupt, a newfound steel in my voice I don't recognize. "I won't give him the chance again."

To sever all doubt, I open the laptop in front of her and send the breakup text without hesitation.

"Go to hell, you cheating asshole! We're done!"

Mindy practically cheers with excitement right away. She'd always wanted me away from Mason's sphere of influence.

After I hit send, the screen goes quiet. The finality of those words settles over me like ash.

"It's done," I whisper. But my hands won't stop shaking.

"Mindy…" my voice softens.

"You know what's coming," I say. The words taste like rust. "Mating season starts in a few days. And now I—" My throat closes. "I have no one. No mate, no claim, nothing. Mason's temporary mark will fade soon, and then I'm just… unbonded. Which means I have to register for the allotment."

The partner allocation. Every wolf who reaches maturity without a chosen mate is entered into it. The elders pair you off—matched by bloodline, by strength, by whatever cold calculus they use. You don't get to choose. You're chosen for. I always thought I'd be safe from it. I thought I'd have Mason.

I almost laugh at how stupid that sounds now.

"I spent six years making sure I'd never have to stand in that line," I say, my voice cracking. "And in a few days I'll be standing in it with all the leftover wolves, waiting for some stranger to be handed to me like a parcel."

The tears I thought I'd run dry threaten to return. I press the heels of my hands against my eyes.

Mindy is quiet for a moment. Then—

"Hey. No. Don't you dare cry over this." Her tone is fierce, but underneath it is something gentle. "Listen to me, Elara. The allocation isn't a punishment. You've just been telling yourself it was, because you were too busy worshipping that arrogant prick next door."

I huff out something that isn't quite a laugh.

"I mean it," she presses on. "Half the good males in this territory go through the allocation. You think every mate-bond starts with some grand fairy-tale chase? Plenty of them start with two strangers who got matched and decided to build something real. That's better than what you had—chasing a man who marked you one night and chased another girl the next morning."

The reminder stings, but she isn't wrong.

"You might get someone kind," she says, quieter now. "Someone who actually sees you. Someone who'd never leave you crying in a bathroom stall while he kisses another girl at a party. You deserve that, Elara. Maybe the allocation is how you finally get it."

I stare at the dark window, at my own reflection wavering in the glass—pale, hollow-eyed, but still upright.

"Maybe," I whisper.

It's the first thing all day that hasn't felt like a lie.

As for me, I once promised Mason we'd go to Stillwood together, where his mother's pack had settled long ago. Even though I fear going to a new territory alone, it had always been the only place I felt I could belong.

Now, I have no reason to go to Stillwood.

The mere thought of humbly clinging to the fringes of Mason's pack makes me despise myself to my core.

All I want now is to escape, to run somewhere far from the overwhelming pressure of his presence.