All Chapters of The Alpha in My Dream : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Rosemary POV The smell of wet pine trees and woodsmoke usually brought comfort to the Silver Moon pack. But for Rosemary Parker, it only reminded her that she was trapped. At twenty years old, she was like a ghost in the busy pack house. She was an Omega, and the others treated her like her very existence was an offense."Look at her. Still scrubbing the floors like a stray dog," a sharp voice cut through the noise of the kitchen.Rosemary did not look up from her hands. They were raw and stinging from the harsh soap. She kept her head down, letting her long dark hair hide her face. She knew that voice too well. It belonged to Anna.Anna was also an Omega. But in the cruel world of the lower ranks, Anna made herself the boss by stomping on Rosemary. In a werewolf pack, strength was everything. Being an Omega was already hard, but Rosemary was something worse—she was weak."Are you deaf, Rosemary? Or is your wolf so weak that your ears stopped working?" Anna sneered. She walked closer

Kieran's POV These past few weeks had been absolute hell.As the Alpha of the largest and most powerful pack in the entire territory, Kieran did not have the luxury of resting when danger knocked on their doors. The rogues had done something they had never dared to do before: they launched a coordinated attack. They did not just strike one border; they hit multiple territories all at the exact same time. It was a messy, chaotic strategy, but it meant Kieran had to act fast. He spent days and nights map-planning, organizing his warriors, and assigning specialized troops to the borders of their weaker allies.Thankfully, his strategy worked. His pack was strong, and his warriors were the best trained in the land. They fought back hard, pushing the feral wolves completely out of the territories. They won the war without a single casualty.But the victory cost Kieran something deeply personal. It had cost him weeks away from his midnight visitor.For the past one year, every single night

Three months. Three agonizing months of traveling from one pack territory to another, and Kieran was no closer to finding his little rosemary than he was the night she vanished.To the rest of the werewolf world, Alpha Kieran was on a tireless diplomatic tour. His official story was flawless: he was personally investigating the coordinated rogue attacks, checking on border security, and strengthening ties with his allies. It was a noble, commanding excuse that no one dared to question. But in reality? He was hunting for a ghost. He was hunting for a girl whose face he knew perfectly, whose voice haunted his thoughts, but whose name remained a cruel mystery.Ever since that fateful night when she had broken down and whispered the word *mate*, she had never returned to his dreams.Every single night, Kieran closed his eyes and prayed for the silver mist to take him back to the grand palace of his sleep. But the dream world remained frustratingly empty. Sometimes, he would catch a tiny,

Rosemary stood inside the tiny basement bathroom, her fingers trembling as she pulled the clean, crisp linen shirt of her official serving uniform over her head. She paused, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as the fabric brushed against her side. Slowly, she lifted the edge of the shirt and looked into the small, cracked mirror on the wall. A deep, angry purple bruise was blossoming across her ribs, courtesy of Anna's rough shove earlier that morning. It throbbed with a steady, burning heat, a physical mark of her low standing in the Silver Moon pack. She carefully smoothed the uniform down, making sure the high apron strings hid the injury from view. She couldn't afford to look hurt, and she certainly couldn't afford to be late. The hospitality team was scheduled to meet Alpha Kieran and his elite team in the upper reception hall at any moment, and every servant was expected to be in perfect order. When Rosemary stepped back into the grand kitchen, the room was a blur of motion. Pla

Rosemary felt her entire body go completely stiff. The heavy, silver tray of dirty dishes felt like lead in her trembling hands, the ceramic plates rattling together like chattering teeth. Just a second ago, the grand dining hall had been a nightmare of noise, clattering forks, and Anna's loud, boastful laughter ringing from the center of the room. Rosemary had done exactly what she was ordered to do: she kept her head down, stayed in the deepest shadows near the servant doors, and tried to ignore the sharp, burning heat radiating from her bruised ribs. She was just a floor-scrubber. A ghost. A mateless, twenty-year-old orphan who didn't belong in the light. But then, a terrifying, earth-shattering sound had sliced through the air. The loud crash of a silver chalice hitting the high table had been followed instantly by the violent scrape of a heavy wooden chair flying backward. And then, the pressure arrived. It was an aura so heavy, so suffocatingly dominant, that Rosemary's lung