The Rogue Alpha's Assassin Mate

PAEDYN NOVA They killed them… I still hear the screaming. Even now, years later, when I close my eyes, it’s the first thing I hear. The fire. The snarls. The blood. The thick, choking scent of burning wood and fur. But worst of all, it’s my own voice, raw and desperate, as I screamed for them. For my parents. “Mother! Father!” I had howled, my throat burning, my legs kicking wildly as two strong arms locked around me, dragging me away from the chaos. “Let me go! I need to go back! I need to…” “Paedyn, stop! We have to get you out…!” “NO! They’re still there! I have to help them! Please let me go!” But I was too small. Too weak. And they wouldn’t let me go. All I could do was scream and claw at the dirt as the warriors pulled me away. I saw them, masked men, their eyes glowing unnaturally in the dark, standing over my parents as they fought to the death. My mother shifted mid-lunge, fangs bared, but she didn’t make it. A blade caught her mid-air. My father followed seconds later, growling, slashing, but he was outnumbered. Outmatched. Death was the only choice he had. And just like that… they were gone. I don't remember what happened after. I think I passed out. The next time I opened my eyes, I was in chains. My uncle, Gary Nova, took over the pack two days later. Just like that. He called it “an emergency succession,” said it was temporary, that he was only doing it for the safety of the people. But I knew better. He smiled at me when he said it. A long, smug smile that told me everything. He’d been waiting for them to die. And I think he knew I knew. He stripped me of my birthright that same week… no more Nova heir, no more Beta’s daughter. Just a girl in rags, shoved into a cold servant’s quarters with mold on the ceiling and a straw mattress that smelled like rot. “You belong to me now,” he told me, the first time I refused to bow. “And you’ll serve this pack like the worthless girl you are. No more Paedyn Nova. You’re nothing. I own you, and at my mercy you will be.” He meant it. I scrubbed the floors they walked on. Washed the blood out of the warriors’ clothes after sparring. Polished boots, carried weapons, cleaned stinking latrines, fetched drinks, bowed, apologized, even when they hurt me. And they did hurt me. A lot. “You’re prettier than your mother,” one of the guards once said, grabbing my wrist too hard while I was pouring wine. “Shame about that mouth, though.” I spat in his drink when he wasn’t looking. That night, I got flogged. Not once, or twice… but for as long as they had strength. But I never stopped dreaming. Of leaving. Of burning this place to the ground. Of finding the ones who killed my parents and tearing them apart, piece by piece. And most of all, I never forgot what my father said to me the night before they died. We were sitting by the fire. My mother was brushing my hair, humming softly. I remember the way my father's eyes had looked that night… dark, troubled, distant. “Paedyn,” he said suddenly, cutting through the quiet. “If anything ever happens to me or your mother... don’t come back for us.” I blinked. “What?” “Promise me,” he said, his jaw tight. “If things go wrong, you run. You survive. You find who did it. And then you make them pay with their blood.” My mother had stilled behind me, and I saw the way her hand trembled against the comb. “Nothing’s going to happen,” I said, half-laughing. “Promise me, Paedyn,” he said. “Promise you?” “Just say the words,” he insisted, looking even more serious. “Dad, stop. You’re the strongest Beta in the North. No one can touch us. No one can stand in your way.” He only smiled at me. A sad, knowing smile. “Promise me.” I didn’t understand it then. But I do now. Death stared at him in the face… And all I saw was a joke… Tonight was the night. After four years of surviving this hellhole, I had everything I needed. Clothes. Supplies. A map. I had stolen one of the older warrior’s blades, a short, curved dagger I kept hidden in my boot. And I knew the guards’ rotation by heart. I waited until just after midnight. I counted steps. Timed the torches. Slipped out of my quarters like a shadow, heart pounding as I crept through the old tunnels beneath the west wing. They led straight into the forest. Freedom was so close I could taste it. I moved fast but careful. My bare feet barely made a sound on the dirt floor. My eyes had long adjusted to the dark; I could see everything. Smell everything. Hear the faint howls in the far distance, the crickets chirping, the leaves rustling with the wind. Then I saw the final door. The one that led outside. Just a few steps more. I reached for it, fingers brushing the cold iron latch, when the scent hit me. But it was too late. Sorry, Paedyn. “Where do you think you’re going, little Nova?” I spun around just in time to see three of my uncle’s men step out from the shadows. They were grinning. All of them armed. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I ran. But I didn’t make it far. The chains burned against my wrists as they dragged me across the hall, my hair tangled, my dress torn at the hem. My end had come… I knew it. My uncle sat on his throne, an ugly carved stone thing that once belonged to my father. His back was straight, his eyes cold. There was no one else in the room but us. He waited until they threw me at his feet, then waved the guards away. “You ungrateful little rat,” he muttered, standing slowly. “After everything I’ve done for you, you chose to betray the pack.” “Let me go,” I hissed, yanking at the chains. “I’d rather die than rot here another day.” He walked over, crouched in front of me, and grabbed my chin roughly. “You’re not dying, Paedyn,” he said softly. “You’re far too valuable for that.” I narrowed my eyes. “Then what?” He stood and turned his back. “You want freedom so badly?” he said, his voice low, almost mocking. He turned back to me slowly, with a smile so cruel it made my blood run cold. “Here’s my judgment.”