Mated to the Alpha Don
As a babe, my mother, who’d been an alpha-female, had gone so far as to lace my milk with silver, refusing to stop even after her actions caused me to be hospitalized multiple times.
The body is strong. A powerful alpha will adapt.
That’s what she always said to my father, a weak wolf with beta blood in him. So weak he’d nearly sent us into poverty when he lost half our drug business to some stupid American alpha business tycoon. However, I was strong. I was not like my pathetic sire. Gabriel Rossi rose from the ashes and built everything back. Thanks to my hard work, we thrived now, and were doing better than before. Mamma died happy. She might have lived longer had she not rejected my old-