The Alpha's Rescued Mate

No one calls me by my name.

Not because I didn’t have one—but because they made sure no one said it. They trained the pack to forget I had one. Said it was too lovely for someone like me. Too soft for a cursed girl.

And the worst part?

It worked. Over time, my name truly faded from everyone’s memory like it was never there to begin with.

Sometimes I whisper it to myself at night, just to remember that I had one.

But during the day?

I answer to nothing. Or to “you,” or “hey,” or sometimes just a sharp whistle, a snapped finger, or a kick to the side.

That’s my life in the Blue Moon Pack.

I’m twenty now. Still unmated. At eighteen, when every unmated male braced for the possibility of pairing with me, they all swore to reject me on sight.

Lucky for them—and me—I never presented.

No bond. No spark. No glowing mark. Nothing.

It was like the Moon Goddess herself had passed me over.

And I was relieved.

The last thing I wanted was to be tied to someone here.

They already hate me enough.

I’m treated like the lowest of the low. Even the servants have more standing than I do. I get shoved in corridors, made to clean up after others, sent on errands they wouldn’t even ask pups to do.

When things go missing—it’s my fault.

When someone’s angry—they find me.

When something smells bad—I’m the one scrubbing it.

But it wasn’t always like this.

I used to live in the Alpha’s house. Had my own room, warm meals, and clothes that weren’t stitched from scraps.

I was treated like a princess—not because I was royal, but because my parents were.

They used to be respected. Loved, even.

They were the Alpha’s Betas. The right and left hands of Alpha Oswald himself.

But ten years ago, everything changed.

They were accused of betraying the pack. Of siding with rogues.

Of being the reason the Luna, her eldest son, and several elders were killed during a rogue ambush.

The Blue Moon Pack never forgets. And they never forgive.

My parents didn’t even get a chance to speak in their defense.

They were executed the next day. Just like that. No trial. No mercy.

Since then, I’ve been the curse they left behind.

The girl everyone blames. The stain they can’t wash off.

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to kill me along with my parents—they just couldn’t.

They set our house ablaze with me still inside. I remember the crackling, the heat climbing up my legs. I screamed. No one tried to rescue me.

Then—out of nowhere—a heavy downpour began.

Angry. Unnatural.

It drowned the flames like someone had poured it straight from the sky.

They tried to bury me after that. Alive. Said I was cursed. But the ground wouldn’t close.

I heard their whispers. Saw the fear in their eyes.

They tried again and again—poison, blades, starvation.

Nothing worked.

After a while, they gave up on killing me.

But they never stopped punishing me.

Sometimes, I laugh at it.

The Moon Goddess has a twisted sense of humor.

She didn’t bless me with a mate.

She didn’t give me a family.

But she won’t let me die.

I barely lived. No schooling. No training. Just menial labor and constant reminders that I was a breathing stain on the pack’s legacy.

A life worse than death.

At least, that’s how it was… until someone helped me.

A stranger.

A rogue named Riven.

One of the very people they claimed my parents sided with.

He told me the truth. Told me what really happened.

Told me how my parents were set up.

And then, he offered me a choice:

Waste away like they wanted, or fight back.

I chose to fight.

It’s been five years since that day.

Five years of collecting information—every little piece.

I know where Alpha Oswald keeps his war files.

I know the patrol routes, the shifts, the guard rotations.

I know the blind spots, the broken sensors, the secret tunnels.

I know what herbs cause hallucinations and what poisons look like harmless tea leaves.

I’ve been in every room of the Alphas’ house, whether they noticed or not. I’ve handled maps, listened in on war room meetings, fetched scrolls and notes no one bothered to lock up. I’ve even tended the sealed vault of records alone.

They don’t see me as a threat.

That’s their first mistake.

A costly one at that.