The Alpha's Brokenhearted Mate

The whip cracked across my back for the third time today.

“Again,” my father said. His voice was cold, empty. “You are too slow.”

I forced myself up from the dirt. My knees shook. Blood soaked through my training clothes, warm and sticky against my skin. The other wolves watched from the sidelines. Nobody moved to help. Nobody ever did.

“Father, please. I have been training since dawn. I cannot…”

“Cannot?” His eyes flashed gold. Alpha power rolled off him in waves that made my wolf whimper and curl inside me. “The daughter of Marcus Steele does not say cannot. The future of this pack does not show weakness.”

I was not the future he wanted. We both knew it.

My older brother died three years ago in a challenge. Ripped apart by a rival pack’s champion while my father watched and did nothing. Wolves respected strength. My father respected only victory. When Daemon fell, I became heir. The weakest alpha daughter in North America. The shame of the Steele bloodline.

“Get up.” My father circled me like prey. “Your ceremony is in three days. You will accept Thomas Crane’s claim. You will bind yourself to the strongest wolf in the northern territories. And maybe, just maybe, you will give this pack the strong leadership it deserves.”

Thomas Crane. Just thinking his name made my stomach turn. He was forty years older than me, cruel, and had buried two mates already. But he was powerful. His pack controlled the eastern mountains. The alliance would make my father unstoppable.

I did not get a choice.

“Yes, Alpha.” I used his title. Not father. Never father when he looked at me like this. Like I was a disappointment. A tool. A means to an end.

“Again.” He nodded to Beta Richards. “And this time, if she falls, do not stop.”

The whip sang through the air.

I ran.

Night found me at the northern border, bleeding and alone. This was my place. The only place in Steele territory where I could breathe.

The old cabin sat empty, forgotten. My mother used to bring me here before she died. Before my father became the monster who wore an alpha’s crown. She would tell me stories about true mates, about bonds that could not be broken, about wolves who chose love over power.

Fairy tales. All of it.

I pressed my hand against the cabin door. The wood was rough, familiar. Inside, I kept supplies. Medicine. Food. Books my father would burn if he found them. This was my secret. My rebellion. The only thing in my life that was mine.

The wind shifted.

Blood. Fresh blood. Close.

My wolf surged forward, alert. Someone was hurt. Someone was on our land.

I should run back. Alert the patrol. But something pulled me forward. Something that made my heart race and my wolf pace anxiously inside my chest.

The scent grew stronger. Blood and pine and something wild. Something that made every instinct scream danger and mine and run all at once.

I found him collapsed against a tree fifty yards from the cabin.

A rogue.

Even unconscious, he was huge. Bigger than any wolf I had ever seen. Dark hair matted with blood. Claw marks raked across his chest, deep enough to kill. His clothes were shredded. He should be dead.

But he was breathing.

And the moment I stepped closer, I knew.

The bond snapped into place like a physical thing. Like lightning in my veins. Like coming home. My wolf howled inside me, desperate and joyful and terrified all at once.

Mate.

No. No, this could not happen. Not now. Not him.

I stumbled back. My hands shook. If my father found him, if anyone knew what he was to me…

The rogue’s eyes opened.

They were silver. Pure, molten silver. And they locked onto me with an intensity that stole my breath.

“Run,” he said. His voice was rough, broken. “They are coming.”

“Who? Who is coming?”

“Everyone.” He tried to push himself up and failed. Blood poured from his wounds. “You should not be here. This is not safe.”

“You are dying.”

“Better me than you.” His eyes flickered closed. “Go. Now. Before they catch my scent on you.”

I should leave. I should let him die here and pretend I never found him. It would be easier. Safer.

But my wolf would not let me move.

And in the distance, I heard it. Howls. Getting closer.

The hunting party. My father’s elite guards.

They were tracking him.

I made my choice in a heartbeat. I grabbed the rogue’s arm and hauled him toward the cabin. He was heavy, half dead, but I dragged him anyway. My wolf gave me strength I should not have.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Saving your life. Stop fighting me.”

“You will regret this.”

I probably would. But I got him inside the cabin and slammed the door just as the first howl split the night air.

Too close. They were too close.

The rogue looked at me from the floor, silver eyes burning.

“They will kill you for this,” he said. “Your pack will tear you apart for helping a rogue.”

“Then I guess you'd better be worth it.” I grabbed the medical supplies from under the floorboards. “What is your name?”

He was silent for a long moment. Like he was deciding whether to trust me. Whether I deserved the truth.

Finally, he spoke.

“Kade Blackwood.”

My blood turned to ice.

Blackwood. The pack that was slaughtered six months ago. Every wolf was murdered in a single night. The massacre that made rogues everywhere hunted on sight.

I was hiding the wolf everyone wanted dead.

And my father was right outside.