Mated to My Father's Best Friend

Sylvia’s POV

The very Alpha whose life my mother drained her power to save, now stood over her cold body and refused her a funeral. He would only grant it if I consented to become the pack whore.

He knew I had no way out. No one would help me just because I was always an outcast of the pack.

Since I was a child, they looked down on me for having no father and never stopped bullying me. When I grew up, things didn't get better, they only grew worse. Because I was also the wolfless freak.

In this merciless pack, Alphas often casts out those deemed useless to become rogues. Without a pack's protection, life as a rogue is a death sentence in its own right. I always thought that would be my fate.

I never imagined something far worse. But the Alpha wasn't done with me yet. I tried to scream for help, but no one would hear my cries. The entire pack was too busy preparing for the Alpha King's visit, leaving me completely alone and abandoned.

“My mother just died…” My voice came out hoarse; I barely recognized the sound of it. "We need to hold the burial rites quickly. Like our traditions demand, to show respect and guide her spirit home."

But he didn't speak. His eyes skimmed the tiny room—the cracked basin, the worn-out blanket, the sprig of dried lavender my mother tucked under her pillow for better sleep. Then, they landed on me, slow and assessing.

"Sera was a burden on this pack for long enough. She used up her worth with her illness. So by pack law, it doesn't warrant the expense of a formal burial."

The word cut deeper than claws. My mother, Sera, had carried this pack for years with her rare healing gift. She might have been frail, her power weaker than others, but she saved lives.

“How can you be so disrespectful after everything she has done for you?” I said through gritted teeth, my grief burning into fury. “She healed you. She healed half of this pack! At least let me honor her before you shove your precious law down my throat.”

“She took more than she gave. Her gift was rare, yes, but weak. Allowing treatment for a woman who can no longer serve the pack was already my mercy.”

Suddenly, Alpha Marshall's voice dropped into a false sweetness that made my skin crawl. Those snake-like eyes locked on me.

"Now that she's gone, she can hardly settle her debt or earn a funeral. But you... you're of age now. If you want something, you must provide value in return. And for a wolfless, you'll agree I've already extended you considerable... privilege."

I gritted my teeth against the sickening implication of his words. But Alpha Marshall was a master at draping his predatory nature in lies. For my mother's sake, I had to gamble that he wasn't bold enough to move against me so openly... yet.

Tears stung the back of my eyes, but I refused to release them; I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

"So," I asked, my voice strained but clear, "what service must I provide the pack to earn my mother a proper burial?"

“You don't have Sera's healing gift, and you can't even shift. By all rights, you should have been cast out long ago.” He stepped further into the room, his heavy steps creaking along the floorboards.

“But I am offering you a chance—attend the mating ceremony. See if the Moon Goddess has blessed you with a mate in this pack. The pack doesn’t feed dead weight. It’s time that you proved your worth.”

His response, though a gut punch, was not surprising. In this pack, every female wolf of age must faced this trial. Werewolves placed fated mates above all else. But unlike the other she-wolves, who might desire a mate or had other paths to take, I saw nothing but dead ends ahead.

I’d sooner become a rogue than be bound for life to some man—it would be no different than a lifetime of slavery.

All men were liars. They were either vile as a venomous snake like Alpha Marshall, or an oath-breaker like my father who abandoned all responsibility. And the rest of the men in this pack saw me as nothing more than a piece of meat to be used at their whim.

“Let me bury my mother first,” I said, my eyes remaining fixed on my mother’s pale features.

“The mating ceremony comes before sentiment,” he replied, his tone final. “If you have no mate, you are useless. You’ll attend the mating ceremony first.”

It wasn’t a request; it was an order.

His gaze drifted over me in a way that made my stomach clench. “However, if you want more time, offer me something instead.”

I froze. His meaning was not lost on me. I’d felt the danger under his words for years. But I hadn’t expected him to show his perversion over my mother’s dead body.

“Get out,” I said. My nails dug into the palms of my hands, creating little moons.

Speaking to an Alpha like this was never okay, but I couldn’t help myself. A fury like I'd never known burned through me, and deep within, something primal growled in restless agitation. For the first time, I felt a raw, overwhelming urge to shift—to loom larger, to bare my teeth, to make this man recoil and swallow back his sick, disgusting intentions.

His expression hardened. He took a step forward, fingers lifting like he meant to grab my arm.

“Alpha! Someone is looking for you!”

A soft, breathless voice called from outside the door. It was my best friend Grace. For the first time since my world ended, a sliver of air found its way into my lungs. I knew, from her rushed tone, that she had overheard and was trying to buy me time.

“Tell them to wait. I’m in the middle of something,” he growled in return.

“This can’t wait, Sir,” Grace went on to say hurriedly. "It's about the setup in the banquet hall for the King's visit. They said it's urgent!"

Marshall swore under his breath. He looked from me to the door, calculating. Then he turned, shoulders tight with irritation. “I’ll return,” he said before closing the door behind him.

The second he was gone, I let out a breath, feeling the weight of his presence lifting. My knees threatened to give, but I didn’t let them. I tucked my mother’s blanket over her chest with shaking hands and kissed her brow where the fever had cooled to ash.

“I’ll be quick,” I whispered, the promise sitting in my throat like a stone. “I won’t let them touch you.”

Approaching footsteps drew my attention to the door before Grace slipped into the room. She quickly shut the door behind her as if that could keep the Alpha locked out. Her eyes found my mother, and her face fell; sadness was evident in her expression.

Grace’s parents died when she was only a little girl. My mother took her in and raised her like a second daughter. Grace was my sister in everything except blood. Tears spilled out of her eyes as she pressed her hand to her mouth.

“Oh, Syl…” she whispered brokenly. “I’m so sorry.”

I didn’t bother keeping the tears away this time; seeing her tears, her sorrow, did something to me, and I broke right there on the spot. She wrapped her arms around me, and we stayed like that for a short while before she pulled back to assess my tear-soaked face.

"Where do we go from here?"

"There's no more time to waste. I can feel Alpha Marshall hiding some dark plan," I said, swiping at my face with my sleeve as resolve hardened within me. "We have to rely on ourselves. I will prepare my mother's body. You go to the priestess, she shared an old friendship with my mother. I believe she will preside over the rites for us."

"But if Alpha Marshall finds out, the consequences would be unimaginable. I've heard the Alpha King is a powerful and just leader," Grace said, her voice tentative. "Perhaps... perhaps he could help us."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Him being Alpha King doesn't prove a thing, except that he's probably just a bigger, Alpha-sized bastard."

Before Grace could reply, a heavy fist suddenly pounded on the door, making us both jump.

"Sylvia!" Alpha Marshall's voice snarled from the hallway, thick with impatience. "Don't test me with your tricks. Open this door. Now."

The doorknob began to rattle, then twist. He wasn't asking. He was breaking in.