The Alpha's Rejected Wolfless Mate

The whip cracked against my back and I felt my skin split open. I bit down on my tongue so hard I tasted blood in my mouth. Do not scream. Never scream. If you scream, she hits harder. That was the first rule I learned in this house after my mother died. "Eighteen years!" Seraphina's voice rang out across the cold kitchen, sweet like honey but sharp like poison. "Eighteen years we fed you, clothed you, tolerated you, and still no wolf! Still nothing! You useless, wolfless creature!" The leather whistled through the air again. I braced myself. The second lash hit lower, right over the fresh wound from yesterday. My whole body jerked forward. My hands scraped against the stone floor. I dug my nails into the cracks between the stones to keep from making a sound. In my head, I counted. It was the only thing that kept me sane. Seven. Eight. Nine. By ten, my vision was blurring. By twelve, my arms were shaking. I lost count at fifteen. Seraphina was breathing hard, not from effort, but from pleasure. She enjoyed this. Luna Seraphina of Silver Creek Pack, beautiful, elegant, beloved by everyone, and this was her favorite hobby. Beating the wolfless daughter of her husband. "Look at you," she spat, kicking my leg with her expensive heel. "Pathetic. No wonder your mother died few years after giving birth to you. She knew what you were. A mistake. A cursed child." My mother. She was the only person who ever loved me. She died when I was three. She always said that my silver hair was a blessing from the Moon Goddess. No one else ever thought so.. From the corner of the kitchen, I heard a soft giggle. Bianca. My stepsister. Seventeen years old. Already beautiful, already had her wolf since she was fourteen. She was everything I was not. She had honey-blonde hair, perfect skin, a strong wolf that could already shift, and a mother who loved her. She crouched down near me, her expensive perfume making me want to cough. "Aww, is the little freak crying again?" she whispered, loud enough for the maids to hear. The maids looked away. No one ever helped me. "Don't worry, Lena. Your suffering will be over soon. Very soon." I didn't answer. Answering only made it worse. I lay on the floor when she was done. My blood mixed with ash and dirt from the kitchen floor. My thin dress was stuck to my back with blood. I didn't move. Moving meant more pain. Breathing meant pain. And then I did what I had done every single day for twelve years. Please. I prayed in my head to the Moon Goddess. The same prayer I prayed on every birthday, every full moon, every time Seraphina beat me. Please let me shift. Please let me have a wolf. Please, please, just let me be normal. Just once. Silence. Just like every time before. No voice answered. No warmth filled my chest. No wolf came. There was only emptiness inside me, a hollow space where every other werewolf had their other half. Seraphina's shadow fell over me again. She grabbed a fistful of my silver hair, which was tangled, dirty and bloody, and yanked my face up so hard my neck cracked. "Good news, little freak," she smiled, and her smile was more terrifying than her whip. "Your father has finally found a use for you. Even for garbage, there is a buyer." My heart stopped. "A buyer?" My voice was hoarse from not screaming. "Alpha Kael is coming tonight," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with cruel excitement. "The Blood Moon Butcher." The name hit me like ice water. Everyone knew that name. Alpha Kael of Blood Moon Pack. The man who killed his own father at fifteen to take the Alpha title. The man who wiped out three rogue packs in one night alone. They said he was seven feet tall. They said his wolf, Fenrir, was pure black and bigger than a horse. They said he drank blood and collected scars. "He buys broken things," Seraphina continued, enjoying every second of my fear. "And you, dear Lena, are the most broken thing I have ever seen in my life." From the doorway, my father finally spoke. I hadn't even seen him come in. Alpha Logan. My own blood. The man who was supposed to protect me. He stood there in his Alpha suit, looking at me like I was a stain on his floor. "He offered fifty thousand dollars and a northern border alliance," he said flatly, his voice completely emotionless, like he was discussing the price of cattle. "Take her. She is worthless to me anyway. Just clean her up so he does not think we are trying to cheat him with damaged goods." Fifty thousand. That was my price. Eighteen years of life, of beatings, of starvation, of loneliness, and I was worth fifty thousand and a piece of land. Bianca clapped her hands. "Fifty thousand! Mother, that's more than I thought anyone would pay for her! He'll kill her in one night and then I'll be Father's only daughter! No more sharing my inheritance with a wolfless freak!" My father didn't even look at me when he said it. He never looked at me. Not since the midwife announced to the whole pack that the Alpha's newborn daughter had no wolf scent. That was the day he stopped being my father. They dragged me to the bathroom like I was a dead animal. The water they threw me into was ice cold, straight from the well. It hit my open wounds and I finally screamed. I couldn't hold it anymore. The pain was too much. Bianca laughed and scrubbed my back with a hard brush, pressing her sharp nails directly into the fresh whip marks Seraphina had just made. She washed my silver hair roughly, pulling and tearing. They threw a thin white gown at me. It was old, torn at the hem, so thin I could see every bruise, every scar, every rib through it. No shoes. No coat. No undergarments. Nothing to protect me from the cold night. My silver hair hung wet and tangled down to my waist. I was shivering so hard my teeth clattered. "Come on, wolfless," Seraphina grabbed my arm, her claws extending just enough to prick my skin and draw blood. "Let's go show your new owner what fifty thousand dollars bought. Let's hope he likes his new pet." Every wolf in Silver Creek Pack was gathered in the main hall. The entire pack. Hundreds of eyes. All staring at me as I was dragged in, barefoot, bleeding, in a see-through gown. Some looked away with pity. Most looked at me with disgust. With relief that it was me being sold and not their daughters. The doors blew open at midnight exactly. A cold wind howled through the hall with such force that all the candles flickered and died. The temperature dropped instantly. Every wolf in the room whimpered and bowed their heads low, submitting to an Alpha far stronger than theirs. Even my father dropped to one knee. Even Seraphina. He walked in like death itself had been given a body. Alpha Kael of Blood Moon Pack. He was even taller than the stories said. Seven feet of pure muscle and menace. Broad shoulders that filled the doorway. A long black fur coat that was dripping with rain from the storm outside. Under it, a black shirt stretched over a chest covered in scars. A scar cut through his left eyebrow, down his cheek, to his jaw. It made him look brutal. Beautiful in a terrifying way. But his eyes. His eyes were molten gold, glowing in the dark hall like two suns. Eyes that had seen too much blood, too much death, too much war to ever be kind again. "Where is she?" His voice was not a voice. It was gravel and thunder and the growl of a wolf combined. My father shoved me forward. Hard. So hard I stumbled, my bare feet slipping on the wet stone, my hands flying out to catch myself before my face hit the ground. Kael's golden eyes found me. For a second, I expected him to laugh. To sneer. To say she is too broken even for me. Instead, he went completely still. Like a predator who had just scented something impossible. Something that should not exist. His nostrils flared. He inhaled. Once. Twice. Deeply. And then the world stopped. His eyes snapped to mine and the gold bled to pure black. Pitch black. Endless black. His claws shot out — long, black, deadly claws that could rip a throat in one swipe. His wolf growled — a sound so deep, so ancient, so powerful that the windows shook and the chandeliers rattled. Every wolf in the room dropped to their knees completely, foreheads to the floor, whimpering in absolute submission. The air became too heavy to breathe. Except me. I couldn't move. I couldn't bow. I was frozen, trapped in those black eyes. Kael crossed the room in three strides. Three. He towered over me. I had to tilt my head all the way back just to see his face. He smelled like smoke and pine and snow and blood. He reached out. His massive, rough, calloused hand grabbed my chin and tilted my face up. His touch burned and froze at the same time. It sent electricity through my entire broken body. His black eyes stared into mine. Searching. Hunting. Claiming. And then he spoke. One word. One word that shattered eighteen years of silence inside my soul. "MINE."