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The Alpha Who Auctioned His Wife
NovelShort
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I was never meant to be seen. As the hidden mate of Alpha Dominic of the Ivyclaw Pack, I existed only in secrecy—an omega wife unworthy of standing beside him because my blood carried no power, no l...
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第1章
Mireya
The chair beneath me gave a soft groan when I adjusted my posture, the sound barely audible in the heavy silence of the room. I didn’t look away from Dominic Ivyclaw—not even for a second—not even as the tension settled on my lungs like a slab of stone I couldn’t push off.
He looked exactly as he always did in public: flawless. Every line of him was polished to perfection. His pale blond hair was combed neatly back, not a strand out of place, and the silver cuff at his wrist caught the low office lighting, the Ivyclaw insignia etched into it gleaming like a silent warning. This was Ivyclaw Tower—his territory. His future throne.
The future Alpha.
The heir.
The man who once took my hands beneath twin moons and vowed himself to me in secret.
My husband.
And somehow, sitting across from him now, he felt like a stranger wearing Dominic’s face.
Without a word, he pushed his phone across the sleek glass table separating us.
“Take a look,” he said flatly.
My fingers hovered for a second before touching it. The surface of the glass was icy against my skin. I picked up the device, my pulse thudding in my ears, and tapped the screen.
The world stopped.
Ysabel.
My twin.
Her image filled the screen—bruised, swollen, barely recognizable. Her hands were restrained, her body shaking. When she screamed, it wasn’t just sound. It was pain made audible, ripping straight through me, tearing something vital apart.
A man’s voice followed—mocking, cruel, dripping with amusement. He spat insults at her, laughed at her terror, treated her like she wasn’t a living wolf at all. As if she had no family. No future. No worth.
Not a she-wolf.
Not someone’s sister.
Not someone who was supposed to be married someday.
Just something disposable.
And because we were twins, every blow felt like it landed on me too.
My hands trembled so violently I almost dropped the phone. “You absolute monster,” I breathed. “Where did you get this?”
Dominic leaned back, crossing his arms, relaxed—as though this were a routine briefing, not my sister’s suffering playing on repeat.
“The perpetrator sent it to Marianne,” he replied. “She thought I should be aware. Damage control and all that.”
Something feral rose inside me. Damage control? That’s what Ysabel’s agony was to him?
“What are you doing?” I demanded, my voice shaking despite my effort to steady it. “You know her. You know what she’s been through. She’s my sister.”
“I’m aware,” he said coolly. “So let’s not waste time. You have exactly three minutes.” His gaze hardened. “Hand over every piece of evidence you have. If you don’t…” He nodded toward the phone. “That recording goes public. Or perhaps I let certain outlets assume it’s you. No one could tell the difference. You and Ysabel share the same face.”
The room seemed to tilt.
I couldn’t draw air into my lungs. My thoughts scattered.
“You’d really do that?” My voice broke. “You’d burn my name in the High Wolf Court? After everything I sacrificed—after everything we built—”
Dominic exhaled impatiently. “You knew this arrangement had an expiration date. You’re an omega, Eya. No lineage. No history. The court only keeps you around because you serve a purpose.”
Something metallic clinked on the table.
A card.
“Ten million,” he said casually. “Give it to Ysabel. Let her buy herself comfort—luxury, distractions, whatever helps her forget. Frankly, it’s generous.”
I stared at the card, the Ivyclaw Bank emblem staring back at me like an insult.
“And Marianne?” I asked quietly, my teeth clenched. “Where does she fit into this scheme of yours?”
For the first time, something almost like softness crossed his features. Almost.
“She once protected me,” he said. “That matters.”
“She’s defending the man who violated my sister.”
Dominic didn’t react.
“She’s standing between justice and a monster,” I pressed.
He smiled faintly, empty of warmth. “That’s reality, Eya. Sometimes wolves bleed.”
I recoiled. “You were supposed to be my mate—”
“We were legally bound, not fated,” he snapped. “You never carried destiny’s mark.”
My wolf screamed.
“You swore to me,” I whispered. “You said you’d challenge even the Moon Goddess before ever choosing against me.”
He shrugged. “People change.”
My claws pressed painfully into my palms.
Memories surged without mercy.
Dominic driving me through hostile territories while I chased evidence. Dominic brewing tea at dawn when I collapsed over case files. Dominic kneeling beneath the stars, sliding a moonstone ring onto my finger, whispering, I don’t care what they say. You’re my only future.
Every word had been a lie.
The first time I faced Marianne in the High Wolf Court, her presence didn’t shock me.
Her expression did.
She stood confidently at the defense table, shoulders squared, pride gleaming in her eyes.
She was representing an Alpha so decayed in both body and soul he reeked of corruption—accused of abusing a rogue child barely seven years old. The kind of case that should have silenced the chamber with shared revulsion.
Marianne entered like she was about to save the realm.
“Esteemed members of the court,” she said smoothly, “even an Alpha deserves due process.”
I sat motionless at the prosecution table, jaw tight, my wolf restless beneath my skin.
She always cloaked rot in righteousness. Her arguments leaned on emotion rather than truth, but her confidence carried weight.
“He is an elder,” she continued. “A patriarch. A grandfather. Are we truly prepared to believe he would sacrifice everything for the unverified claim of a feral rogue pup with no affiliations?”
A low growl escaped me before I could stop it. My second’s hand landed firmly on my arm.
Later, outside, I didn’t seek her out.
She came to me.
I stood beneath the old willow near the courthouse steps, pretending to scroll through files etched into my memory.
“Mireya,” she called pleasantly. “Do you always glare at me like I’m the enemy?”
I met her gaze. “You shield predators. What else would you be?”
She sighed theatrically. “You think morality is exclusive to your side. That Alpha is frail. He has a family. Is ruining what little time he has left really necessary for your conscience?”
“A child was hurt,” I replied coldly. “Does she not deserve justice because she lacks a pack?”
She scoffed. “She’s the result of unmated wolves. A mistake, frankly.”
My body went rigid. Rage surged, hot and violent. I forced my voice steady. “The Moon Goddess watches, Marianne. Even when you hide cruelty behind logic.”
That exchange haunted me—especially when I remembered what I’d once warned Dominic about her.
“She’s not who you think she is,” I’d said. “She manipulates. She’s dangerous.”
He’d held me then, his scent grounding my wolf. “Say the word,” he’d murmured. “I’ll deal with her.”
I believed him.
Months later, Marianne was appointed legal counsel to Ivyclaw Pack enterprises. Not me. My record didn’t matter. My blood did.
She was acceptable. Presentable.
Then Dominic hired her again—this time as his personal adviser.
“We need more people,” he’d said offhandedly. “Besides… she’s intriguing.”
That word lodged deep, sharp and quiet.
Still, I stayed silent. I trusted love.
I shouldn’t have.
Because now, he wasn’t just influenced by her.
He was choosing her.
“I should’ve seen it,” I said dully. “The moment you replaced me. The moment you called her interesting.”
He didn’t argue.
“You’re not the man I married.”
“And you’re not the omega who knew her place,” he replied.
My vision blurred. “If I refuse… will you really destroy Ysabel? Destroy us?”
He smiled thinly. “Test me.”
Something inside me collapsed.
I signed.
I left without looking back.
Ivyclaw Tower felt hollow as I walked out, the crest above the doors meaningless.
Then my phone rang.
“Mireya—hospital. Now. Ysabel tried to end her life.”
I don’t remember the journey.
I only remember the hospital floor. My mother kneeling, bleeding, begging.
Ysabel—cold, lifeless.
“They could’ve saved her,” a healer whispered.
“They didn’t,” another said. “Orders.”
“From who?”
“Alpha Dominic. Marianne’s pet was injured.”
The world ended.
I collapsed beside Ysabel, sobbing apologies into silence.
My mother stood.
“We leave,” she said. “Five days. We take her ashes. And we never return.”
第2章
Mireya
My fingers were still wrapped around my sister’s shawl, stiff with dried blood, when my phone vibrated in my palm.
The name glowing on the screen made my stomach lurch.
Dominic Ivyclaw.
Once, that name meant safety. Devotion. The man who stood with me beneath moonlight and whispered vows no one else was allowed to hear. His scent used to quiet my wolf instantly—pine, steel, promise.
Now it made bile crawl up my throat.
I didn’t answer right away. My thumb hovered above the screen while my wolf growled deep inside my chest, low and warning. She sensed danger. So did I.
A message came through. It was from Dominic.
[Bring Marianne her handbag. She left it behind. She’s attending the royal auction. I’ve forwarded the location. You have an hour.]
No greeting. No softness. No acknowledgment of what I’d lost.
Just an order.
As if I were nothing more than a runner. A faceless omega. Not his wife—hidden or otherwise. Not an advocate of the High Wolf Court. Not a woman whose twin had just died.
My vision blurred as I stared at the screen. A broken laugh tore out of me, sharp and ugly.
He didn’t even know Ysabel was gone.
Or worse—he didn’t care.
I typed with shaking hands.
[I can’t.]
Barely seconds passed before another notification appeared.
A video attachment.
My heart slammed painfully against my ribs.
Not again.
I tapped it before I could stop myself.
The same footage flooded the screen. Ysabel’s screams. Her sobbing pleas. The way her terror echoed off unseen walls. The laughter—mocking, delighted—of the creature who had destroyed her.
I gagged and dropped the phone, stomach heaving.
My mother, huddled on the floor nearby like something already half-buried, reached out blindly. When her eyes found the screen, her breath shattered into a wail.
“She’s already dead!” she cried hoarsely. “What more does he want? Does he plan to grind what’s left of my child into dust before he’s satisfied?”
I crawled to her, gripping her shoulders, trying to anchor us both. “Mama… please. I’ll handle it. I swear by the Moon Goddess, I’ll stop him. I promise—”
The words broke apart in my mouth.
Because I had no idea how.
All I knew was this: we had five days. Five days before we disappeared completely. If Dominic sensed even a hint of that, everything would collapse. I couldn’t let that happen.
Not for my mother.
Not for Ysabel.
So I swallowed my fury until it burned. Picked up the purse.
And I ran.
The location Dominic sent was deliberately vague, as if meant to remind me how small I was. I pushed through the city, past ancient stone buildings carved with pack sigils, past nobles cloaked in gold-threaded finery, past Luna-blooded women draped in silk dyed with moon-blossom hues.
At last, I reached the auction estate—a vast, guarded hall blessed by royal decree, reserved only for aristocrats and those deemed worthy of standing beside them.
That’s when I saw him.
The man from the video.
Ysabel’s attacker.
He lounged casually against a marble column, immaculate in a tailored suit, a lazy smirk stretched across his face like he owned the world.
My steps faltered. Ice spread through my veins.
“So you’re Mireya,” he said smoothly. “Marianne mentioned you’d show up with her things.”
He adjusted his cuffs, navy fabric embroidered with a silver M. “Custom work,” he added smugly. “Commissioned by Alpha Dominic’s preferred tailor. Marianne thought it suited me.”
My grip tightened around the purse. Leather creaked under the pressure as my claws threatened to break through. My wolf snarled, barely contained.
“Your twin was entertaining,” he continued, voice dripping with filth. “You both carry the same desperate scent. Guess rot runs in the blood.”
Something snapped.
I hurled the purse straight at his face.
“How dare you!” I screamed, charging him. “You don’t get to speak her name! You don’t get to exist after what you did!”
I struck wildly—fists, claws, grief driving every blow. There was no technique, only pain and rage. I wanted him to hurt. I needed him to feel something.
Shouts erupted. The heavy auction doors swung open.
A familiar voice sliced through the chaos.
“Mireya.”
Marianne stepped forward, Dominic at her side. “Who exactly authorized you to attack my client?”
The courtyard fell silent.
Dominic’s arm slid around her waist, possessive, deliberate. She leaned into him naturally—like she belonged there. Like that space had never been mine.
“You owe him an apology,” she said coolly.
My whole body shook. “He murdered my sister. And you expect me to—”
“There has been no verdict,” she cut in smoothly. “What you’re saying borders on slander.”
Before I could respond, the auction announcer’s voice boomed from inside the hall.
“Our next piece—an anonymous donation. Untitled.”
The screen lit up.
I recognized it instantly.
Ysabel’s painting.
The blues she only used when she was drowning. The curled figure beneath a bleeding moon. The one she hid away. The last thing she ever created.
“No!” I screamed. “That’s hers! You can’t sell it! That’s my sister—give it back!”
Guards closed in as I fought against them, sobbing, half-mad with grief.
Marianne folded her arms, smiling faintly. “It was gifted to me. I donated it. You’re mistaken.”
“She would never give you that!”
Dominic’s voice turned sharp. “Enough, Mireya. One more outburst and you’ll be detained.”
I stopped.
Because if I didn’t, my mother would lose me too.
Marianne stepped closer. “You still haven’t apologized.”
“What…?”
Dominic’s tone was steady, unforgiving. “Get down. Say you’re sorry.”
I stared at him, the world tilting.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I gave you an order.”
I tried to speak—but his men moved first.
They yanked my hair, slammed me to the stone. Pain exploded. Blood blurred my vision.
Dominic crouched beside me, offering a handkerchief like a mockery. “Clean yourself,” he murmured. “You used to be impressive. Now you’re just an embarrassment.”
I slapped the cloth away. Forced myself upright.
He didn’t look back. His arm settled around Marianne’s shoulders.
“Dominic,” she purred, “you’re taking me home tonight, right?”
He kissed her slowly. “Always.”
That was the final fracture.
I walked home alone. No escort. No protection. Bloodied feet. Hollow chest. Autumn wind slicing through me.
The Ivyclaw estate rose ahead—once my sanctuary. Now a tomb.
At the door, I stopped.
Sounds drifted out.
Moans. Familiar. Intimate.
I stood there for nearly an hour.
Then I entered.
Clothes everywhere. Condoms on the bookshelf I built myself. The stench of sex clung to the air.
I didn’t cry.
I climbed the stairs.
And she stopped me.
Marianne. Wrapped in my towel. The blue one.
She smiled sweetly.
“Just so you’re clear, Mireya,” she said softly, venom under silk,
“I’m not the other woman.”
第3章
Mireya
The air was thick with something sharp and metallic—cold iron, treachery, intent—long before Marianne spoke a single word.
I should have trusted that instinctive chill the moment I found her inside Dominic’s private den. His inner sanctum. The one room in the estate guarded more fiercely than any vault. The space I had never once been permitted to step into, not even after becoming his wife. And there she was, standing comfortably before the safe, fingers gliding over the locking mechanism with practiced ease.
Like it belonged to her.
Like she had always belonged there.
The lock disengaged with a soft click. The safe door groaned open.
I stood frozen as she reached inside and removed a slim folder, neat and deliberate. She turned toward me slowly, triumph flashing in her eyes, and struck the folder against my chest without hesitation.
The impact stole my breath.
“Divorce papers,” she said lightly, as though delivering trivial news. “Filed, approved, finalized. You and Dominic are no longer married, Mireya. Honestly, you haven’t been for quite some time.”
My hands trembled as I opened it. Page after page burned my vision. Every clause was airtight. My name. My signature. Legal, undeniable.
I didn’t remember signing this.
But I had.
Buried in trust. Hidden beneath documents I never thought to question.
“He deceived me,” I murmured, the words barely audible above the pounding in my ears.
Marianne’s smile widened, sharp and predatory. “We’re attorneys. You know better than anyone that intent doesn’t matter. Ink does. If you were careless enough to sign blindly, that’s hardly his fault.”
I couldn’t move. My heart hammered violently as memories clashed with reality. Three years. Three years believing in a marriage that apparently ended long before today.
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You keep pretending there’s still something binding you. But tell me—did he ever claim you properly? He never marked you. Never completed the bond. With me, though?” Her lips curved cruelly. “He did.”
My wolf stirred, wounded but alive, snarling deep within my chest.
“I’m just cleaning up what he left unfinished,” Marianne continued, cradling the folder as if it were precious. “You can consider this an act of mercy. By tomorrow, I expect you gone.”
I didn’t beg. I didn’t collapse.
I met her gaze evenly. “Then I hope the two of you find everything you deserve.”
My jaw clenched until pain bloomed, but I didn’t let it show. I turned away, each step tearing something raw inside me.
That night passed without sleep.
I packed methodically. Not with tears or hysteria, but with emptiness. The kind that settles after devastation, when grief has already burned everything down.
I folded dresses carefully—luxury fabrics chosen by him, jewels clasped around my throat like ownership. I boxed them all. Not to keep. Not to sell.
To erase.
When Dominic and Marianne left the estate the next morning—no doubt celebrating my removal—I contacted a courier. When he arrived, I handed over the boxes and the address.
He hesitated. “Ma’am… this location is an incineration facility.”
“Yes,” I replied evenly. “Make sure nothing survives.”
He swallowed and nodded. “Understood, Attorney.”
As the truck disappeared, so did the last remnants of that life. Silk and gold no longer meant anything. Neither did Dominic.
Then my phone rang.
I nearly ignored it—until I saw my mother’s name.
Her voice broke through the line in fractured sobs. “Mireya… they’re destroying your sister’s shrine. They’re pulling it apart—her resting place—”
The phone slipped from my hand.
I didn’t grab shoes. I didn’t think. I shifted partially, claws breaking through skin, vision blazing gold, and ran.
When I arrived, my mother was on the ground, clutching Ysabel’s urn like a lifeline. Blood smeared her palms where she’d been shoved aside.
I knelt beside her, fury tearing through me. “Who did this?”
She pointed weakly. “She said her dog died. She tried to take the shrine. She shoved me—she tried to throw your sister away!”
I turned.
Marianne stood near the half-open doors, eyes red with feigned tears, mouth curved smugly.
“Oh,” she said sweetly. “You’re here for another performance?”
My voice came out low and dangerous. “You knew this space was already claimed.”
She gestured toward a satin-wrapped box. “I need somewhere to bury my pet. Surely even you wouldn’t deny that.”
“That shrine was for my sister.”
She shrugged. “It’s not like she’s really in there, is she? After all, you’ve been hiding her ever since that video.”
The words cut deep—but I didn’t react.
Instead, I turned to the cemetery manager who had rushed over. “This shrine was purchased and registered under my sister’s name. We have documentation. My mother carved the plate herself.”
He nodded. “I remember. We don’t reassign occupied shrines. I’ll assist Miss Marianne elsewhere.”
Marianne screamed.
“She’s lying! She’s manipulating everyone! Her sister isn’t dead—and now she’s stealing from me!”
I ignored her. Carefully placed Ysabel’s urn back where it belonged.
“Heartless?” I said quietly. “That accusation suits you better.”
She collapsed theatrically behind me—until a familiar presence slammed into the space.
Dominic.
His aura crushed the air, alpha dominance radiating outward. Wolves backed away instinctively.
“Remove that,” he ordered coldly.
He lifted Marianne into his arms, cradling her protectively.
I stepped forward, blocking the shrine. “Do you even know whose remains those are?”
His gaze was empty. “And if I do? You brought this chaos on yourself.”
He gestured.
The urn was seized. It fell. Shattered.
Ashes scattered across the ground.
A boot crushed them.
My mother screamed and collapsed, clawing at dirt, sobbing uncontrollably.
I couldn’t move. My claws pierced my palms, blood dripping freely.
“That’s my sister,” I whispered. “That’s all that’s left of her.”
Dominic scoffed. “Keep lying. I’ll make your lie permanent.”
Then he left. Carrying her.
Silence followed.
I sank beside my mother, hands shaking as I gathered what little remained.
Ash. Bone. Soil.
The Moon Goddess gave no answer.
But I made a vow.
I would remember.
And I would make them pay.
第4章
Mireya
The air inside our modest house felt heavy enough to choke on—not from heat, but from sorrow that had nowhere left to go.
Mama sat near the window, folded into herself as though trying to disappear. Her gaze was distant, unfixed, while her shaking fingers traced the fractures in the glass pane again and again, like she was waiting for the Moon Goddess to answer through those cracks. Strands of silver threaded through her dark hair, framing her ashen face like remnants of a fire long extinguished. Ever since the cemetery—ever since they violated my sister’s resting place—something inside her had retreated completely. Her wolf no longer surfaced. It hid, wounded beyond reach.
I lowered myself beside her and carefully wrapped my hand around hers. Her skin felt cold.
“We’ll be gone soon,” I murmured, brushing my lips against her knuckles. “Two days, Mama. Just two more nights. After that, we disappear. Dominic, this pack—none of it will touch us again. I swear.”
Her eyes blinked slowly, unfocused, as though she were trying to remember who I was. Then a single tear slipped free. She didn’t speak—she almost never did now—but her fingers tightened faintly around mine, like she was anchoring herself to the last thing she trusted.
Everything was ready. Our bags were already packed and hidden beneath the loose boards in my old bedroom floor. I hadn’t told a soul—not even Sera, who sold herbs at the corner stall and sometimes looked the other way for me. The Ivyclaw Pack was no longer safe. Not with Dominic on the verge of taking full power. Not after he stripped me of everything.
I rested my head against Mama’s knee and closed my eyes. For a brief moment, there was a fragile calm between us, the kind that exists only in the still center of a storm.
Then the door shook violently.
A thunderous bang rattled the walls. Then another. And another.
My wolf surged instantly, bristling beneath my skin. I rose and stepped in front of my mother without thinking. “Who’s there?” I shouted—though dread already coiled tight in my chest.
The door burst inward.
Three wolves stormed inside, all wearing black with the Ivyclaw crest emblazoned over their hearts. Their eyes glimmered faintly, wolves close to the surface. They were massive, built like war machines, their scent thick with blood and iron.
Kael stepped forward first, a cruel grin stretching his face. “Alpha Dominic sends word.”
He tossed a crimson envelope onto the table. The gold seal was already broken.
“You’re expected at Miss Marianne’s birthday celebration,” he said. “Tonight.”
“I won’t be there,” I replied flatly.
Kael’s grin widened. “That’s a shame.”
Before I could react, he seized my mother’s arm and hauled her upright.
“Don’t touch her!” I screamed, half-shifting before forcing myself to stop. Mama whimpered, frail in his grip.
“Please—stop!” I choked. “I’ll go. I’ll go wherever you want. Just let her go!”
They shoved her aside like refuse. She collapsed into the chair, gasping softly.
My fists clenched until pain shot through my palms. Pride meant nothing now. Dignity was useless. The only thing that mattered was keeping her alive.
---
The banquet hall glittered obscenely—marble floors, crystal chandeliers, glass walls reflecting excess and power. The scent of wealth and dominance clung to the air. Marianne had turned the place into a shrine to herself. Alpha laughter echoed. Glasses clinked. Lunas whispered behind jeweled hands.
And then there was me.
While they shimmered, I stood in plain black. Barefaced. Unadorned. Defiance stitched over humiliation.
Marianne ruled the stage, draped in deep blue velvet, flawless and radiant. Dominic stood at her side, his arm draped casually around her waist. His eyes swept the room.
Then they found me.
Something flickered across his face—brief, sharp. A ghost of what once was. The look he used to give me in private, before everything burned.
Marianne followed his gaze and smiled viciously. “Attorney Mireya,” she crooned into the microphone. “I see you could make time after all.”
I didn’t respond. I stood still, unmoving.
“I arranged something special this evening,” she continued, laughing softly. “Just for you.”
As I was guided closer to the stage, she leaned in. “I know you’re sentimental.”
I didn’t understand what she meant. Not until something shifted in the air.
My breath caught.
A pull—strong, undeniable.
Warmth flared in my chest. My wolf reacted violently, snarling and crying out in confusion. My legs weakened.
My mate.
He was here. Somewhere among the crowd. I didn’t know his face or name—but I felt him, unmistakably.
The bond surged—
Then shattered.
The screen descended.
Sound filled the hall. Moans. Familiar. Horrifying.
I knew before I saw it.
Ysabel.
The same footage they’d used to torture her—now displayed for everyone.
“No…” I whispered, staggering forward.
Guards stopped me.
“Turn it off!” I screamed. “Stop it!”
Laughter rippled through the room.
“She doesn’t look unwilling.”
“Maybe she liked it.”
My lungs refused to work. My wolf clawed at my insides.
Marianne approached, smiling. “Isn’t it moving?”
Something broke.
I struck her.
The crack echoed through the hall. Dominic caught her as she stumbled, fury blazing.
“Have you lost your mind?!” he roared.
I faced him, shaking. “Do you enjoy this? Do you need to destroy her even now? Was any of it ever love—or were you always this empty?”
“You only ever saw her,” I whispered bitterly. “I was nothing to you.”
His jaw tightened. “You know the terms.”
The agreement.
“If you speak again,” he said quietly, “the next recording will involve your mother.”
That was it.
“I’ll remember this night,” I said flatly. “Every second.”
And I left.
---
I didn’t get far.
Hands dragged me into the alley. A hood. Blows.
I screamed. Fought. It didn’t matter.
“I’m a lawyer—” I tried to shout.
Slap.
Again. Again.
Pain blurred everything.
“Alpha Dominic. Punishment complete.”
“Good,” came the reply. “Payment sent.”
Darkness swallowed me.
I lay there, broken, my wolf whimpering.
And for the first time, I couldn’t even cry.
第5章
Mireya
The morning I planned to leave with my mother, I never once considered the possibility that someone would be waiting for me.
I stopped short the second her scent reached me.
She didn’t belong.
Gardenias—too heavy, too deliberate—mixed with something sharp and chemical, a perfume meant to smother her real smell. It lingered inside our small den like a warning. My bare feet touched the cool planks as I moved farther in, slow and cautious, claws aching to break free beneath my skin.
And there she was.
A stranger sat on our couch as if she’d always owned it, spine straight, legs crossed, heels pressed into the rug with quiet authority. Her hair was pulled tight into a polished bun, and the moment she noticed me, her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Who are you supposed to be?” I growled, stepping forward. My wolf prowled uneasily inside me. “And why are you in my house? Leave. Now.”
Her gaze dragged over me with clear disdain. “Mm. That face…” She clicked her tongue, ignoring my demand entirely. “Ivyclaw blood does produce striking features. Shame it also produces such an unrefined attitude.”
The jab landed deeper than I wanted to admit, but I kept my expression still.
“Say what you came to say,” I snapped, lowering my center of gravity. “Because if you don’t walk out that door, I will make you.”
Only then did she fully turn toward me, folding her arms like a judge about to pass sentence. “I’m a messenger. Alpha Voren has acquired you.”
My breath stuttered. “Acquired?”
She smiled wider. “Sold. Handed over willingly—by your pack, your Alpha, and yes, even your dear former husband, Dominic. All signatures accounted for.” Her voice coiled around my chest. “You’re being transferred as Alpha Voren’s secondary companion. A political arrangement.”
My legs nearly gave out. “That’s impossible. That’s illegal.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she replied lightly, producing an aged scroll stamped with multiple seals. “Not under werewolf trade statutes. Particularly not for… compromised bloodlines.”
The name burned my throat.
“Voren,” I breathed. “The same Alpha Marianne defended? The one who assaulted a child?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Details. The rogue had no standing. You, however, are Ivyclaw-born. Healthy. Capable of producing heirs. And most importantly—unclaimed.”
Something inside me snapped. I launched forward.
I never reached her.
Two massive wolves moved faster than thought, slamming into place between us. Alpha Voren’s guards. I bared my fangs, snarling, but they didn’t flinch.
Then the door opened again.
I turned—and felt my heart drop.
Dominic. Marianne at his side. And behind them, filling the doorway like a living nightmare, Alpha Voren himself.
My wolf howled inside my skull.
“There she is,” Marianne purred, stepping closer. “Our little bargaining chip.” She tilted her head toward Dominic. “Did you explain that her sister was the original deal?”
Cold flooded my veins.
“What did you say?”
“Your twin,” she clarified smoothly. “She was meant to be delivered. But she vanished, didn’t she? Ran off with some rogue?” Marianne’s eyes glittered. “So now you’ll take her place. Dead blood has no value.”
I swallowed hard. “She’s gone,” I whispered. “She’s dead.”
Dominic recoiled. Marianne merely smirked.
“You keep insisting that. No remains, no proof. She could be anywhere—warm, hidden, pregnant.”
I screamed and surged forward again, but Dominic grabbed me this time. His hands crushed my wrists.
I searched his face desperately.
There was nothing there.
“This is necessary,” he said without emotion.
“You’re condemning me,” I spat. “Remember that.”
He shoved me straight into Voren’s arms. The stench—decay, blood, suffering—made my stomach twist.
“No!” My mother’s cry split the air.
She rushed forward, but guards restrained her. I met her gaze and gave a tiny shake of my head.
Trust me.
She sobbed—but nodded.
I went limp in Voren’s grasp. My wolf protested, but I murmured, Soon.
They forced me into an armored vehicle. I memorized everything—the guards, the locks, the road. No wolfsbane. No open windows.
Good.
I counted silently.
The road curved. Trees blurred.
I let my wolf rise.
When the turn came, I shifted.
Metal shattered. Pain exploded. I ran.
Branches tore at me as howls erupted behind. But these woods were mine.
I reached the hollow tree, found my bag, sent the message.
Airport. Terminal 2. Now.
The reply came instantly.
I’m here.
I made it.
When I saw my mother, hood up, eyes wet, I took her hand.
“Mom,” I whispered, breaking.
“…we’re finally leaving.”
第6章
Mireya
I didn’t think we’d make it out of Ivyclaw alive.
The flight was short, but my hands were clenched the entire way. Every breath I took felt borrowed, like death was sitting in the seat beside me, waiting to strike when I finally relaxed. My mother, Emma, sat beside me, clutching her coat tight around her even though the cabin was warm. Her eyes stayed on the aisle. She was watching. Always watching.
We both were.
Every passenger could’ve been one of Dominic’s men. Or worse, a spy from Alpha Voren’s side. I’d seen enough brutality in Ivyclaw Pack to know that silence didn’t mean safety, it only meant danger was waiting for a better time.
We landed far from any capital I knew. The runway was crude, and the airport small, almost deserted. As soon as the plane door opened, I smelled them, wolves.
But not from Ivyclaw. Not from any pack I recognized. Their scents were… foreign. Old. Heavy with earth and something unfamiliar. They didn’t bear the arrogance of highborn wolves, but there was a stillness in the way they stood that made my wolf stir uneasily in my chest.
“They’re not from the Packs we know,” my mother whispered, her fingers twitching at her sides, ready to shift at any moment.
They didn’t speak right away. Just watched us. Their silence was unsettling, but it wasn’t cruel. It was measured.
Finally, an older man stepped forward. His hair was silver, long, tied neatly at the nape of his neck. He looked like he belonged in a war council from an era long forgotten. His presence was strong, too strong for someone who claimed no known pack.
“You’ll come with us,” he said.
“Who are you? What do you need from us? And where exactly are we going?” I asked, squaring my shoulders despite the tremor in my voice.
He gave a slight smile. “To the Moonlight Pack.”
I blinked. “Don’t fool me. That doesn’t exist.”
“It does,” he replied calmly. “Just not for those who shouldn’t know about it.”
We had no choice.
The wolves surrounded us like a loose ring, never too close, never too far. Protective, maybe. Or a warning. We were ushered into a black, heavily tinted van that smelled faintly of pine and metal. There were no windows to track the direction. Just the soft humming of tires over unfamiliar roads.
I sat there, the silence pressing against my skull, trying not to let the panic in my chest show. We’d barely escaped one prison. Now we were being driven into another, and I didn’t even know its name.
The old man sat across from us in the van, his posture stiff but not unfriendly. “Name’s Cassius,” he offered suddenly. “I was told to fetch you. The Alpha was expecting you.”
“Expecting us?” my mother echoed, eyes narrowing. “How? We didn’t even know where we were going until we boarded.”
“Not all things are known through words,” Cassius replied, cryptic and maddening. “The Moonlight Pack has its ways.”
I frowned. “Why would a secret pack want anything to do with us?”
He tilted his head, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Because not all secrets are meant to stay hidden. Don’t worry, we are not fugitives or criminals.”
We drove for what felt like hours. The air grew cooler, the roads narrower. Then I saw it through the one small slit of a window near the roof, a glimpse of something sprawling and green.
The Forbidden City.
That’s what they called it, according to Cassius. A hidden region, shielded by magic and land both. Not governed by any of the known Alphas or their territories. No records. No bloodlines traced.
“The Moonlight Pack is the oldest pack,” Cassius said as we neared the edge. “We do not exist in your books because we choose not to. History favors the loud. We prefer to survive.”
I stared out the sliver of glass, catching sights of towering trees, deep winding roads, and buildings too old to belong to this century, but maintained with care. Almost sacred. It didn’t look like a prison.
But I couldn’t shake the dread coiling in my gut. Freedom shouldn’t feel this much like being swallowed.
We didn’t reach their main territory, though. Instead, the van turned into a long gravel path lined with blackthorn trees and stopped in front of an old, grand manor.
“Why aren’t we going to your main packhouse?” I asked as we stepped out.
Cassius adjusted his coat. “Because the Alpha prefers introductions in neutral spaces. And because what’s waiting for you… is better handled in private.”
That didn’t help the anxiety clawing up my spine.
The manor smelled like cedarwood, old parchment, and faint traces of magic. Wolves walked its halls, tall, silent, disciplined. Every one of them had the quiet strength of those who’d seen centuries pass.
They bowed slightly as we passed. Not out of deference. But acknowledgment. Like they already knew who I was.
It was unsettling.
The walls inside the manor were lined with portraits, not of people, but of forests. Wolves running. Moons in every phase.
Cassius led us to a set of heavy oak doors at the end of a long corridor. He stopped in front of them. His tone softened. “You’ll want to hold on to your mother.”
“What?” I asked, frowning.
But the moment I placed my hand on the door handle, something inside me snapped.
My knees buckled.
Pain. Burning. A strange heat spread from my chest down to my fingertips. I gasped, reaching out blindly, and my mother caught me, pulling me against her.
“Mireya?” she whispered, panic rising. “Is it—?”
The sensation was unmistakable. The same overwhelming pull I’d felt at the ball. The moment Marianne leaked the video and the crowd turned into vultures—I felt this very same thing.
A bond. A soul-level call.
A mate.
“No,” I breathed, eyes wide. But it was already too late.
The doors creaked open slowly, and I felt the weight of the world shift. And there he was.
Standing at the far end of the office, behind a large obsidian desk, backlit by the soft glow of moonlight pouring in through a stained-glass window.
He turned to us, and the breath caught in my throat.
He was young. Strikingly so. Tall and built like the forest carved him itself. His hair was white as snow, falling past his shoulders in soft waves. But it was his eyes that held me still, silver, piercing, ancient.
I didn’t know his name. I didn’t know what role he played here.
But I knew this: he was mine.
My mate.
And nothing in the world had prepared me for the storm that was coming next.
第7章
Mireya
My chest had clenched the moment our eyes met inside the manor’s grand study. And now, seated across from him in a room carved from quiet power and solemn shadows, I still didn’t know whether to scream, cry, or run.
Everything was too much.
My twin sister was dead. Ysabel, who used to hold my hand under the covers when our nightmares were louder than the wind outside the packhouse windows, was now ashes inside the ceramic urn that sat quietly in my mother’s trembling hands.
Dominic… Dominic had left me hollow. Used me, then discarded me. A man who once swore to defy the Moon Goddess herself for me had instead dragged me to the edge of ruin. Had I not escaped, I would’ve been bartered like livestock to some decrepit Alpha looking for a pretty new mate to breed.
But now… this man before me. He is my fated.
No. No, I wasn’t ready. Not for this. Not for anything like this again.
“I felt it the moment you did,” Ross said, his voice deep and controlled, like a storm just barely held back by a dam. “That day. I felt it… soul-crashing and deep. But it stopped when the commotion of the leaked video happened. I was about to look for you, but my presence was called by the Alpha King.”
I didn’t respond right away. My jaw clenched. I was tired. Bone-deep tired.
“You were gone when I came back,” he continued, eyes on mine. “I searched for you. My wolf was half-crazed. I used every contact I had, every damn wolf and crow in the underground, to find out who you were. And when I did… I investigated everything about you.”
He paused, letting the silence stretch as if to acknowledge the weight of my past.
“I know what they did to your sister. I know how your pack treated you. I know about Dominic, and the trial, and Marianne…” His jaw flexed. “The things I read, I wanted to tear someone apart.”
My breath hitched. He leaned forward slightly. “You don’t have to believe me. I just wanted to find you. To offer you something… even if it’s just safety.”
I swallowed thickly. The fated mate bond was humming under my skin, pulling at me, begging me to trust him. To lean in. To feel.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
“I don’t know if I can love anyone again,” I said finally, my voice low, raw. “I don’t think I want to.”
He nodded, not offended. Not wounded. Just… understanding.
“That’s fair,” he said. “Then let me start as something else.”
I raised a brow. “Something else?”
“A client,” he said with a slight smile. “If you still want to practice law. There are… things that require your kind of mind. Wolves who need a sharp tongue, a steady hand, and someone who knows what justice is supposed to look like.”
I blinked. “You want me to work for you?”
“Work with me,” he corrected, leaning back into his seat. “The Moonlight Pack operates in the shadows, yes. But we have our own codes. Our own wars. And we could use someone like you.”
My lips parted, unsure how to answer.
“I’ll think about it,” I murmured, looking away.
He didn’t press. “That’s all I ask.”
That night, after dinner, I stood by the wide window of the guest room I now shared with my mother. The room was warm, clean, and filled with the gentle scent of lavender and cedar.
It felt nothing like home.
My mother sat curled on the edge of the bed, holding Ysabel’s urn close to her chest. Her eyes were swollen from crying, though she tried to hide it behind the calm expressions she always wore for my sake.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly, walking over and sitting beside her.
She nodded slowly. “He seems kind. Alpha Ross.”
I didn’t answer.
“He told me we could stay here as long as we needed,” she continued. “That this could be our new home. That no one would harm us here.”
I looked down at the floor. After everything, it was strange how kindness now felt more suspicious than cruelty.
My hands curled into fists. “I don’t know if I can believe in safety anymore.”
My mother’s hand found mine. “We survived, Mireya. That counts for something.”
I looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t want to just survive.”
She stayed silent, waiting.
“I want revenge.”
Her grip tightened, but she didn’t scold me.
I turned to look at the urn in her lap. “Dominic. Marianne. Alpha Voren. The pack members who turned their backs. I want to see them fall. I want to tear their empire down. Bit by bit. Brick by brick. Until it all burns.”
There was a storm building in my chest. My mother just nodded, as if she understood the darkness growing in me. Because it had grown in her, too.
Later that night, I found myself outside Alpha Ross’s study again.
I wasn’t sure if it was the bond pulling me in or the fury inside me, begging for an outlet. But my feet carried me to him, heart hammering so loud I could barely hear my own thoughts.
The manor was quiet, the hallways dimly lit with old sconces. As I approached his door, it opened before I could knock.
He stood there in a dark robe, embroidered with silver thread at the collar. His silver-white hair looked nearly luminous under the hallway light. And his eyes, sharp, piercing, locked onto mine as if he had been waiting.
The scent of pine and frost swept over me, intoxicating and dangerous.
He tilted his head. “Couldn’t sleep?”
I didn’t answer. I stepped inside. He closed the door behind me.
We stood there for a few heartbeats, the bond sparking faintly between us. I ignored it.
“I don’t care about the bond,” I said. “Not now.”
His expression didn’t change.
I walked closer, slow and steady. “I don’t care what I have to do. Who I have to become. I want revenge. I want every last wolf who destroyed my family to bleed.”
Something shifted in his eyes, approval, perhaps. Or understanding.
“I’ll do anything,” I whispered. “Anything you ask. If it means I get to rip them apart myself.”
There was silence. Then he stepped forward, a faint smirk curling at the edges of his lips.
“Very well,” he said, voice like steel wrapped in velvet.
第8章
Mireya
The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting golden light across the deep mahogany walls of Alpha Ross’s private study. The curtains were drawn, the room quiet except for the occasional rustle of flames and the slow, rhythmic ticking of the antique clock behind him.
He looked nothing like the Alphas I was used to.
His long white hair framed a face too sharp to be soft, too beautiful to be cruel, but something told me he could be both, if the situation called for it. He wore a black robe trimmed in silver thread, his chest partially exposed beneath the fabric. He sat reclined in a leather armchair across from me like a king who’d grown bored of his throne.
And yet… his eyes, those pale silver eyes, never left me.
“You still haven’t asked what I want in return,” he said finally, voice smooth like melted ice, curling around the silence between us.
I sat up straighter, back tense, fingers clasped in my lap. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Ross’s lips curved slightly, almost like he appreciated the way I carried myself, wary, but not weak.
“I want to make something very clear between us, Mireya,” he began, shifting forward, elbows resting on his knees. “I meant what I said about helping you. If it’s strength you want, influence, vengeance… I can give it to you.”
I stayed still, listening.
“But nothing in this world comes without a price,” he continued, “especially not in Moonlight.”
“What kind of price?” I asked carefully, already sensing it wasn’t going to be simple.
He met my eyes without hesitation. “The mateship.”
A pause. Then he said, “I cannot mark you. Nor marry you.”
I blinked, caught off guard. The bond between us was undeniable, tense, magnetic, maddening. And yet he’d spoken the words like a blade slicing clean through possibility.
I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”
He leaned back in his chair, shoulders relaxing, as if he had prepared for this moment long before it ever came. “There is a tradition in Moonlight Pack. A blood oath carved into the very roots of our existence. Every Alpha of Moonlight, every ruler who leads our hidden city, is bound to marry a daughter of the royal family. A wolf princess.”
My stomach twisted.
“A hundred-year-old pact,” he continued, voice low and edged in steel. “Forged between our ancestors and the royal line of the Alpha Kings. Our pack, the Moonlight Pack, is the last lineage of pureblood Lycans. We were the first. We are the oldest. And because of what we are… we are hidden.”
My mouth was dry. “Hidden?”
He nodded. “We live apart from the world. In the Forbidden City, where outsiders cannot find us unless we want them to. We’ve removed ourselves from politics, from wars. We exist in silence, and in exchange, we stay protected.”
“But why the blood oath?”
“Because Lycan blood is potent. It enhances the wolves it bonds with. The Alpha Kings knew this. To preserve the strength of their throne, they demanded our loyalty, and a promise. That every Alpha of Moonlight would marry their daughters, so the royal bloodline would never weaken.”
I stared at him, stunned.
“So you’re saying… you can’t marry me,” I said slowly, “because you’re bound to someone else. A royal.”
Ross didn’t flinch. “I will be marrying the wolf princess. It’s not a choice. If I break the oath, the consequences will be far worse than war.”
Something in my chest pulled tight. It wasn’t heartbreak, not exactly. I’d stopped dreaming of love the moment Dominic tore my world apart. But this… this still hurt in some distant, cruel way.
“And the mark?” I asked.
“I cannot mark anyone except the royal daughter,” he said simply. “The magic of the pact forbids it. If I do, I’ll die.”
I turned my face away for a moment, swallowing down the bitter twist in my gut.
“So what do you want from me?” I asked, voice hoarse.
He stood then, slow and graceful, like a predator stalking a boundary he couldn’t cross. “You’re my fated mate, Mireya. I felt it the moment I laid eyes on you. And if I lose you completely… I’ll go mad.”
I turned toward him again, stunned by the honesty in his tone.
“I can’t mark you. I can’t bind you to me in the eyes of the world. But I need you here. I need you on my side,” he said. “You calm the madness in me.”
I crossed my arms, holding myself together. “So… what? You want me to be your secret?”
“No,” he said, stepping closer. “I want you to be my equal. My ally. Even if the world won’t see us as mates… I will never treat you as anything less.”
My wolf stirred. There was something brutal about how he spoke. Not tender. Not romantic.
“And what would I get in return?” I asked.
He tilted his head. “Everything.”
“Be specific,” I said.
“You want war with the Ivyclaw Pack?” he asked.
I nodded.
“You want Dominic brought to his knees? You want Marianne’s name shattered in the courts she once manipulated? You want Alpha Voren stripped of every ounce of power and made to beg for mercy before you destroy him?” His eyes gleamed. “Done.”
My heart slammed in my chest.
“You want wealth? You want to rewrite laws? You want your name feared and respected in every territory?” he said. “I’ll give it to you. But in return… you stay.”
The room spun a little. Not from fear. From possibility.
“I don’t care about the mark,” I whispered. “I don’t care about marriage. I don’t even care about fate anymore.”
He said nothing. Let me speak.
“I just want revenge. I want it so badly I can taste it. I want to be powerful enough to tear their empire apart with my own hands. If you’re truly offering that… then I’ll stay.”
Ross smiled, slow and dangerous. “Then we have a deal.”
That night, I finally lay down in my bed beside my mother. The silence of the manor cradled me like the arms of a beast I no longer feared.
I stared up at the ceiling, fingers curled gently on the sheets. No mark. No wedding. No fairy tale.
But power. Influence. Revenge.
And for the first time since Ysabel died… I felt like I could finally breathe. I could finally sleep knowing the ones who broke me would one day bow before me.
Marianne. Dominic. Alpha Voren. They wouldn’t just suffer. They would kneel.
And I would be the one to make them.