The Alpha's Mate

PROLOGUE

I stood frozen just outside the room, paralyzed. I couldn't breathe. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched him—the man I thought I knew—lying on the bed next to my mother.

They were curled up together under a duvet, her lips locked onto his, as he absentmindedly played with her blonde hair, clearly enjoying the moment. After a while, they pulled away from the kiss and just looked at each other; they looked at each other like they were in love, like there was nothing between them but desire. From where I stood, it was clear they weren't dressed, trying to hide their nakedness beneath the covers. The sight made my stomach churn, and I felt a sharp, unrelenting wave of disbelief wash over me.

"Why?" I whispered, my voice trembling, but neither of them heard me. They couldn't.

My hand shook as I reached for the doorknob, and before I knew it, I was pushing the door open, stepping into the room. The soft creak of the door felt impossibly loud in the silence.

They both looked up at me, clearly shocked. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, they scrambled to sit up, fumbling to cover themselves. My mother's hands flew to the blanket, desperately trying to pull it over her, but it was too late.

The man beside her—my husband—stood up quickly, his black boxer shorts barely covering him. The sight made my stomach twist with disgust. I felt my skin crawl as anger slowly began to replace the hurt that had been crushing my chest just seconds before. The disbelief faded, and all that was left was a burning rage, hot and sharp. How could they? How could he? How could she? My own mother. My own mother. The words kept repeating in my head, and each one felt like a punch to the gut. She was supposed to protect me, to be the one person who would never betray me. And yet here she was, tangled in this lie, in this... this abomination.

My voice caught in my throat, and I couldn't even find the words at first. I stood there, staring at them, my breath shallow and rapid. The room felt too small, the air too thick, and I could hardly breathe. "What... what is this?" I finally managed to choke out, my voice weak but full of raw confusion and fury. "How could you do this? How could you—how could you?" I turned to my mother, then back to my husband, feeling my stomach churn.

Tears burned at the back of my eyes, but I forced them down. I couldn't let them see how much they'd hurt me. My heart was a storm—anger, confusion, betrayal—all swirling inside me. But I wasn't going to break. Not here. Not now.

My mother opened her mouth, but the words didn't come. She just stared at me with wide eyes, her lips trembling, as if she couldn't find the right words to make this all go away.

"We didn't mean for you to see this," she said, her voice shaking. But it was too little, too late. There was no apology, no remorse—just the desperate attempt to cover up the truth.

My husband, on the other hand, stood there stiffly, his face a mask of indifference. He glanced at me quickly, and for a moment, there was something that flickered in his eyes—guilt, maybe. But then it was gone, just as quickly as it came, replaced by that cold, defensive look.

"It's not what you think," he muttered quickly, but the lie felt like acid in my throat. I could see right through it, and it made my blood boil.

"Not what I think?" I repeated, my voice rising now, raw with fury. "I saw everything. Everything." My fists clenched at my sides, my heart pounding in my ears. "How long has this been going on, huh? How long have you been lying to me, to us?"

I could feel the rage building up inside me, pushing away the hurt, replacing it with something darker, something more primal. The betrayal from both of them was suffocating, like a weight pressing down on my chest, crushing me.

"You don't get to do this," I spat, my eyes burning with fury. "You don't get to destroy everything and pretend like it's okay. I'll expose you both. I'll tell the entire pack what you've done. You'll pay for this."

I took a step forward, my voice shaking with fury. "You think I won't? You think I'll just keep this secret? I won't. I'll tell them all. Every single one of them will know what you've done. You're a disgrace of an Alpha."

My mother's face went pale, and she stepped forward, as if to stop me, but I didn't care anymore. All I could see was the man I loved—standing there, exposed and unapologetic—his coldness, his betrayal. All I could feel was the searing heat of my anger.

"I won't let you get away with this," I hissed, my voice low and dangerous.

And that's when I saw it.

My husband's hand moved, and for a split second, I thought he was just trying to reach for me, but then I saw the object in his grip. It was a heavy, glass vase, the kind you find on a bedside table, the kind that could cause serious damage if it was used the wrong way. My heart skipped a beat as he lifted it, and I froze.

"Don't," I whispered, my breath catching in my throat. But it was too late.

Before I could move, before I could even react, he swung the vase with terrifying speed, hitting me squarely on the back of the head. The impact was brutal, a sharp, sickening c***k that sent a jolt of pain through my skull. My vision went blurry, and my knees buckled beneath me.

I raised a trembling hand to my head, feeling the warm, sticky blood dripping down my fingers. The shock of it hit me like a wave, and for a moment, I couldn't process what was happening. My mind struggled to catch up, but everything was spinning, dizzying, slipping out of my grasp.

I turned, trying to escape, but before I could take another step, the vase came down again. This time, it hit me harder, and everything went black.

The last thing I saw was their shocked faces—my mother's eyes wide with terror and guilt, my husband's face twisted with something unreadable—and his hand holding the vase, ready to strike again. And then, nothing.

Everything went silent. Everything went dark.