The Mark of Two Alphas

Tricia’s POV

Pain.

It wasn’t the dull ache of a bruise or the sting of a slap. It was a war inside my veins. My neck felt like it was being branded by a hot iron over and over again. I groaned, my eyes fluttering open to a ceiling that wasn't mine. The room was too large, the air too heavy with the scent of ozone and expensive leather.

"Careful, Tricia," a deep voice rumbled.

I bolted upright, my head spinning. Tristan was standing by the window, his silhouette dark and imposing. Behind him, a man in a white coat was packing a medical bag, looking at me with pity.

"Where am I?" I gasped, clutching the silk sheets to my chest. My hand brushed my neck, and I hissed. The skin was raised and weeping. "What did you do to me?"

"I saved you from a gutter," Tristan said, walking toward the bed. "And I marked you. You’re in the Shadow Pack manor."

"Shadow Pack?" The blood drained from my face. "Tristan, no. I have to go. Xander... if he finds out I’m here..."

"Xander rejected you!" Tristan snapped, his eyes flashing. "He threw you to the wolves, Tricia. Literally."

"You don't understand," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I'm still an Omega of the Blood Moon. If I’m found here, it’s treason. They’ll execute me."

I didn't wait for his permission. I scrambled out of the bed, my legs feeling like jelly. I found a dress draped over a chair—a simple, dark green velvet that felt like a king’s ransom—and threw it on over my head. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely zip it.

"You’re in no condition to leave," the doctor interrupted. "Your levels are unstable, Tricia. The two marks are fighting for dominance. If you don't stay here for treatment—"

"I’m going home," I cut him off.

"Home?" Tristan stepped in my way, his massive frame blocking the door. "To the man who stood in front of hundreds and called you a stain? To the woman who dumped juice on your head? That's not a home, it's a cage."

"It’s the only cage I know!" I screamed, tears blurring my vision. "Move, Tristan. Please."

He stared at me for a long beat, his jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth might break. Finally, he stepped aside. "Go then. Run back to your master. But don't think for a second he won't smell me on you."

I didn't stop to think about his words. I ran. I ran out of the manor, through the gates, and into the woods. I knew these borders. I knew the secret paths. By the time I reached the Blood Moon territory, my lungs were screaming and the mark on my neck was pulsing in time with my heartbeat.

I didn't make it to the kitchen. I didn't even make it to the servants' quarters.

I was intercepted in the courtyard by the one person I dreaded most.

Xander was standing there, his arms crossed, his face a mask of absolute fury. Jack and Sancho were behind him, their expressions grim.

"Where have you been?" Xander’s voice was terrifyingly low.

"I... I went for a walk," I lied, my voice cracking. I pulled my hair over my shoulder, trying to hide the side of my neck.

He was in front of me in a heartbeat. He didn't touch me gently. He grabbed my hair and yanked my head to the side, exposing the raw, angry purple mark Tristan had left.

Xander’s scent shifted instantly—from cold winter to a volcanic, suffocating rage.

"Who?" he whispered.

"Xander, I can explain—"

"Who touched what is mine?!" he roared, his grip tightening until I cried out.

"You rejected me!" I sobbed, trying to pull away. "You said I was nothing! You said I was trash!"

"I rejected you as a Luna, not as my property!" Xander’s eyes were pure gold now, his wolf pushing to the surface. He shoved me back against a stone pillar, his hand wrapping around my throat. Not to choke me, but to force me to look at him. "You went straight from my bed to another Alpha? Who did this? Was it Tristan? I smell that Shadow Pack filth all over you."

"He was kind to me!" I hissed through my tears. "Something you’ve never been!"

Xander’s face twisted in a sneer of pure jealousy. He leaned in, his nose brushing the mark, his growl vibrating against my skin. "Kind? He branded you like a cow. He knew you were mine, and he did this to start a war. And you... you went to him willingly? You let him put his teeth in you after I gave you my mark?"

"You didn't want me!"

"I decided what I want!" Xander yelled. He turned to Sancho. "Lock her in the highest room of the north tower. No food, no water, until I decide how to scrub this filth off her skin."

"Xander, please!" I screamed as Sancho grabbed my arms.

"You’re a whore, Tricia," Xander spat, his eyes burning with a mix of hate and possessiveness. "A traitor just like your father. Did you think he’d save you? He just used you to get to me."

He stepped closer, his hand hovering over my stomach for a split second, his brow furrowing as if he sensed something he couldn't quite name. But the rage returned too quickly. "Get her out of my sight before I kill her myself."

I was dragged away, my feet scuffing the dirt, my heart shattering into a million more pieces. He hated me, yet he was jealous. He rejected me, yet he wouldn't let me go.

I was thrown into the tower room, the heavy iron bolt clicking into place. I slumped against the door, clutching my stomach. A wave of nausea hit me, and I doubled over, retching.

I need to get out. I need to leave this place, my wolf whispered.

Hours passed. The sun began to set, casting long, bloody shadows across the floor. I was shivering, the fever from the dual marks making my head swim.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from below. Then another. The sound of wolves howling in pain ripped through the night.

I crawled to the small, barred window and looked down.

The courtyard was in chaos. Black-clad warriors were swarming the grounds, clashing with the Blood Moon guards. And in the center of the madness, standing over the fallen body of one of Xander’s elites, was Tristan.

He looked up, his eyes locking onto my window. He looked like death itself, his suit ruined, his hands covered in blood.

Xander stepped out onto the balcony below me, his claws extended. "You have a lot of nerve coming here, Shadow."

Tristan didn't even flinch. He raised a hand, pointing a finger directly at the tower.

"I’m not here for a chat, Xander," Tristan’s voice carried through the wind, cold and lethal. "I’m here for my mate. And the child she’s carrying."

My heart stopped. Child?

Xander froze, his head whipping back toward my window, his expression turning from rage to a horrifying, realization-filled shock.

"What did you just say?" Xander whispered.

Tristan smiled, and it was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen. "You heard me. She’s pregnant, you idiot. And she’s coming with me."