The Alpha Beast's Rebel Wolf

CARISSA POV

"Are you ready?" My brother, Matthew, filled the silence as we entered the SUV. I knew he was addressing me and not our mother. They'd been to these functions before, whereas I was new. I knew I needed to attend, however. Our father was expecting us.

I turned my head to the right and smirked up at him. "I was born ready. I've been practicing my game face all week," I joked while showing everyone in the car my best game face. Not that either of the other occupants cared for my playful banter. I pushed those feelings deep down and focused on my father. I couldn't believe he was commemorated at such an event as Honourable Pack Beta. It was a prestigious event that didn't typically involve smaller packs like ours. It was a surprise, so it was hard not to mention anything in the week leading up.

But where are my manners? Allow me to introduce you all to a bit of backstory, something to help pass the time while we head to the ceremony.

My name is Carissa Carter, but most people call me CC. I tell myself that it is less about my not fitting in with the Carter family and more about it being a cool nickname.

I was born the second daughter of Beta Anthony and Kimberly Carter. They never mistreated me—physically, anyway.

Emotionally, my parents were void when it came to me and my needs. I quickly learned that my parents only wanted two pups, one son and one daughter.

They never expected that one night, while my mother was out with friends, she'd meet her true mate and stray. They also never expected her to turn out to be pregnant a few weeks later. My mother came clean about the infidelity, and to save their reputation, they decided that it was best to continue to pretend I was Beta Anthony Carter's pup. That was also how quickly my name became known as CC. I was never referred to as a Carter by anyone in the family—a subtle jab within the family dynamic each time she was forced to respond to it.

You’re probably wondering why my father never felt the pain of my mother cheating; that is strictly a true mate benefit. When you take a chosen mate instead, you take the gamble on trust in all aspects. Marking your mate is a wolf's primal instinct, and when you accept a chosen over waiting for your wolf's true mate, they rarely wish to claim what's not truly their own. My father gave my mother the ring she wanted, but not the mate mark. However, because of this, he had no idea how often she may have strayed, and it ate at him constantly.

After I found out the truth, our dynamic changed. My father never mistreated me, never spoke down to me or anything; he didn't spend time around me. I looked nothing like my mother, which meant I looked like a walking reminder of the man my mother strayed with. Honestly, I felt bad for my father. I knew he was a good man, but he was struggling to accept an affair and an affair baby.

Because of this, my mother all but abandoned me. She figured that if she disassociated from my existence, everything in her marriage would fall back into place. Delusions and denial are funny traits to pay into, but go for broke, I guess.

Unfortunately, neither parent wanted me, so I was left with a nanny or my own devices. This made me a bit of a natural survivalist.

The upside was that I loved Ginny. She was like the mother I never had. Ginny had been my nanny since I was three months old, and my father realized my mother wouldn't accept me as an attempt to get my husband back.

Although he didn't want me, as I was the constant reminder of the reality that he was avoiding, he couldn't bring himself to accept a pup being neglected—not even a bastard born.

Over the years, my parents grew further and further apart. Beta Carter could never let his guard down, always demanding to know where Kim was. It was exhausting to keep up with the drama of it all.

They hid this behind closed doors; no one knew what we pups knew. Imagine it: every time you were out in public, you had to pretend to love a woman who betrayed you and praise a pup who looked more like the unknown male who robbed your marriage of its sanctity. That would be hard for any male, much less a high-ranking one. I did feel bad for my father. His perception of marriage and his family was tainted now through no fault of his own.

When the big blowout happened at home that night, no one could predict how far my father was pushed. I knew he wouldn't be the same, but my siblings and mother thought it would blow over with a few hollow apologies and soft attempts at making things right.

But something spoken can not be unsaid, and words hold power. Telling your husband that you wish you had left with the unknown male with whom you strayed, at least then you would be sexually satisfied, was probably the worst thing our mother could have shouted out in anger. Your emotions don't justify or excuse your poor behaviour. They amplify where your feelings are. They hold power—the power to build and the power to demolish.

My parents were the first-ranked couple in two generations to invoke the official mistress clause. Something that can only be permitted if chosen mates.

Alpha Kane approved the request, and there was nothing my mother could do to stop my father from taking a mistress. This completely tore the family apart. Although it was entirely Kim's fault, she refused to accept blame and take accountability for her past indiscretions.

Brittany and Matthew blamed me solely, and our mother shut herself away from the world unless there were official mandatory events. Perhaps she thought that, like in the past, my father would cave and come catering to her as he had to keep appearances. That ship had long sailed, however.