Page 4 of The Forbidden Alpha

“Shane.” Jaxon’s voice carried mild warning, the kind a father used on his heir.

I sat rigid, my heart slamming against my ribs. I didn’t belong here, but I’d spent the last ten years alongside the twins—Mavy had insisted I be enrolled in her year when I arrived, two years her senior and newly orphaned, and her father allowed it. No one questioned her. No one asked what I wanted.

For five years he’d been merely unpleasant, the Alpha’s son performing for an audience. Since my eighteenth birthday, that dynamic had curled into a predatory obsession. The same morning the dreams had turned from whispers to screams. That was the day I should have gotten my wolf, but nothing ever went right for me. It had been two years, and my scent hadn’t changed, but he had—the way he tracked me across rooms and pressed too close on staircases and smiled as if he already knew how this ended.

“Trent is coming over before the Academy,” Mavy said, picking at her food. “Hitch a ride with us, Adea? Please?”

I swallowed a bite of toast that felt like dirt in my mouth. Trent hated when I rode with them. He coveted his alone time with her. I could already see the distaste in his eyes when he realized the rogue’s scent would be clinging to his leather seats.

“It’s okay, Mave. I… prefer to walk,” I said.

“Oh, okay.” She smiled sadly. She turned back to her plate and picked at her food. She didn’t hear the word no often, and I was one of few who could do it and get away with it.

“What’ve you got to do, Ady? Scrub the toilets?” Shane’s voice rumbled beside me, sharp and mocking as he used Gabe’s nickname for me.

Jaxon’s gaze flicked to his son. “Shane.”

It wasn’t a rebuke. It was a prompt. Shane didn’t back down; he tilted his head, his eyes bleeding into that challenging glow. “Yes, Alpha?”

No one spoke. Jaxon didn’t get angry. Instead, he lifted his chin, a proud smile touching his lips at his son’s defiance. This was how they raised kings—by letting them practice their cruelty on the things they owned.

That’s me.

“Shane, don’t be an ass,” Mavy snapped, oblivious to the standoff between the men. “She isn’t a slave.” She leaned against me, her silver eyes searching mine for forgiveness I didn’t have the heart to withhold. “I’m sorry, Adea. Ignore him.”

I wanted to tell her it was fine, but Shane’s hand remained, a heavy weight against my spine that made my skin crawl. I gave a tight nod.

“I’m joking, aren’t I, Ady?” Shane murmured, his eyes locking onto mine. His fingers flexed, a slow, possessive drag over my backside that made my breath hitch.

I set my fork down. My hands were steady despite the tremor.

“The Table meets this afternoon,” Jaxon announced, the shift in topic sudden. The Table was filled with select high-ranking wolves from different pack kingdoms. “We vote on the host for the mating festival among other things.”

“Silver is a dying pack,” Emilia said, her voice soft yet firm. “A burden they can’t afford. If we want an alliance with the North, we go to Desert Moon.”

Mavy’s face lit up. “Adea, imagine. Us in beautiful dresses in a different kingdom under the full moon.”

“Yeah,” I managed, the words came out flat. “The chances of you finding your Goddess-chosen increase with every mile from home.”

“Me? You mean we,” Mavy corrected, nudging me. “Daddy, can we go shopping this weekend? Adea needs a dress. One that doesn’t hide her beautiful figure.”

Jaxon surveyed me—the stray he’d kept as a pet—and nodded. “Fine. But keep it appropriate, Mavy. I won’t have my pack represented by anything less than dignity.”

As if that was my natural state. I bit the inside of my cheek at the jab. The chime of a text message broke the spell. Trent.

“I have to go!” Mavy squealed, jumping up to kiss her parents. She threw a glare at Shane before she winked at me. “Tomorrow night, Adea! We’re going shopping!”

She walked out of the room, taking the light with her. Shane’s touch disappeared as I stood.

“Alpha, Luna. Thank you for the meal,” I said, bowing my head. I ignored Shane as I grabbed my dishes and walked into the kitchen. I stacked the porcelain, my movements mechanical.

“I’ve got the dishes. Go so you won’t be late,” Gabe said as he pried a fork from my hand. I didn’t meet his eyes, because if I did, I would cry, and I couldn’t afford to cry in front of them.

“Thank you,” I whispered as I scooped up my bag and headed for the door.

“See you later, Ady.” I refused to acknowledge Shane, but his voice followed me like a shadow as I reached the door.

I didn’t stop until I hit the tree line.