Page 3 of The Forbidden Alpha

“The dream again?”

I didn’t answer, but nodded. They told me the Awakening would bring a beast of my own—a gift promised by the Goddess. I waited for a name, a change, but I got nothing. Sometimes, in the fog of sleep, I could almost say her name. But when I woke, there was nothing but the hollow in my chest.

How do you explain the sensation of waking up with tears on your face and the taste of someone’s name on your tongue? For a year, the dreams had been haunting; but since my twentieth birthday, they had become a leaden weight I carried even when awake.

I stepped into the hallway. He fell into step beside me without pushing it. That was the thing about Gabe—he knew when not to pry. Once upon a time, he was the only one who had lied for me when the pack wanted a scapegoat. We’d been friends ever since.

The hall stretched around us, grand and immaculate. White-washed walls of stone that Alpha Jaxon kept in a state of religious order. I had fallen in love with it at once when I first arrived, before I understood that beautiful cages were still cages.

“… an amazing night, Ady. A she-wolf from the southern border and her mate,” Gabe murmured, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly promise that made my skin prickle. “The air was thick with the scent of the hunt. He had her pinned against the oak, and I was right there in the fray—the slapping of skin, the bitter tang of sweat. You should have seen the tits on her, Ady,” Gabe said as he lifted two open palms to his chest. “I gripped his hips and—”

“Please, Gabe. I do not want to hear where, how, or what position you had her in,” I interrupted, my cheeks flushed. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“You’re no fun. That wasn’t even the best part,” Gabe huffed. “If not you, who would I tell?”

I fought the smile at the thought of his wolf pouting. Felix was the other half of Gabe’s soul, a massive golden beast with far more heart than his human counterpart. As much as I loved the wolf, I didn’t love him enough to subject myself to a play-by-play of Gabe’s bedroom, or in this case forest, antics.

“Oh, my virgin ears,” I called out as I covered them. Gabe continued to pout as we made our way down to the kitchen.

The kitchen smelled of rosemary and grease. I set to work. Gabe moved through the space with the ease of a man who belonged, while I moved with the precision of a woman who was always watched. We worked in a practiced harmony, the clink of porcelain against marble and steel on wood.

I didn’t need to explain why I was there. Whenever I looked at the long wooden table or the heavy matching shelves, I was reminded of the debt. Jaxon and Emilia hadn’t merely given a home; they had purchased my loyalty with the blood they chose not to spill. I had been initiated, folded into the Half Moon pack, and given a purpose.

Mavy burst in like a sunbeam, all blinding and oblivious. She was a contrast of ink and moonlight—long, wavy black hair that smelled of citrus and silver eyes that danced with a mischief I would never dare share. She was a replica of her mother’s beauty, but none of the Luna’s coldness lived in Mavy’s smile. She was dressed in a white crisp blouse and charcoal skirt—the Academy uniform. She wrapped her arms around my waist, a show of affection that always warmed me.

“Good morning, Adea! Thank you for breakfast!” She pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.

“I made your favorite,” I said, forcing a lightness into my voice I didn’t feel. It was easy to love Mavy; she was the only part of this family that didn’t feel like a threat.

Twins were rare among our kind and thought to be a gift. They were a balance of scales. Mavy was the youngest and the light; Shane was the shadow. My blood pounded in my ears and every cell in my body stood to attention as he walked in, a monolith of dark intent.

He knew I was defenseless. At twenty years old, I was nature’s mistake—a human-shaped nothing in a house full of predators. I had no beast to snap back at his, no internal fire to ward off his ice. No wolf meant no rank. A wolf’s strength determined where you stood in the pack hierarchy—your ability to fight, lead, protect. Without one, I had no status beyond what Jaxon granted me by choice. Shane eyed me like a toy he hadn’t quite finished breaking yet.

He had his father’s height and that same ink-black hair, but his eyes were voids—flat, black, and endless. Something slithered in their depths, and some old, stupid instinct in me wanted to look closer anyway.

He smirked as he passed by, but it never reached his eyes. He didn’t speak—he didn’t have to. He took his seat, his presence filling the room until the walls seemed to shrink. He was a mirror of his father’s power, but with a cruelty that was entirely his own.

Gabe nudged me, effectively breaking the spell, a warning to start plating before the Alpha arrived. I moved quickly, filling their plates with the heavy, traditional fare that fueled their strength. I’d placed them on the table, ready to retreat when the door opened.

Alpha Jaxon and Luna Emilia walked in with the grace of apex hunters. Ten years hadn’t touched them; they appeared as timeless as the white walls of their castle.

“You don’t need to leave, Adea,” Jaxon said, his voice a low rumble of command dressed up as a suggestion. “Sit. Eat with us.”

It wasn’t a question. Gabe strode over. My hands trembled slightly as I took the plate from him. There were open seats by the Alpha and Luna. As much as I tried to avoid Shane at all costs, the best choice was the one wedged directly between the twins.

It was easier to ignore Shane when Mavy was already bright and chattering, her gaze wide with the excitement of someone who had no care in the world. She was talking about the annual mating festival—the upcoming gathering of packs from different kingdoms where everyone dressed in their best in hopes of finding their Goddess-chosen mates. She spoke as if it were a fairytale and not a damnation.

“The Northern Kingdom, Desert Moon, is said to be hosting,” Emilia said, her voice soft and gentle. “An alliance with their Alpha is of utmost importance.”

“That hasn’t been decided,” Alpha Jaxon corrected.

“Desert Moon’s Alpha built that territory from nothing,” Mavy said, tilting her head the way she did when she’d been reading up on someone. “Everyone calls him the Mad King, but no one’s seen his face. Oh, Adea. Maybe we can find our mates there!”

She nudged me. I opened my mouth as a hand slid across the small of my back. It was a brand, a claim that made the phantom pain beneath my collarbone flare into a blinding white heat.

It was slow and deliberate, his touch seared through the fabric of my hoodie, fingers spreading wide. Shane. He didn’t look at me—he kept his gaze on his father. For one broken second, the warmth of his hand felt like a desperate homecoming. Like a buried memory I recognized, but couldn’t remember. His fingers crept lower, and the feeling curdled into a far more dangerous chill. Instincts wound tight, screaming at me to snap at him, but I stayed paralyzed.

“Is that what you’d like?” Shane’s thumb traced a slow, bruising circle against my spine, forcing the question into my skin. His breath was warm on my ear, his arm brushing my shoulder. “To find your mate at the festival?”