The Alpha's Eternal Mate

Chapter Eight: Fate in disguise?

Kathryn's POV

After a full day attempting a job that was still well beyond me, every part of my body ached. I glared at the wooden exterior of the hidden compartment and debated going back to my room to suck. Only there was nothing back in the room that would improve my mood.

I brushed my hands against my now dusty gown, cringing as the palm of my hand came off looking browner and dustier. There was no way in hell I would be caught going out like this.

Talking about being caught, I had found this hidden compartment during one of my plays. It led to a path that had now been covered by bulrushes and crawling vines.

As I stood there, trying to decide whether to risk sneaking out, memories of my previous life crept in like shadows. Back then, I had to learn the art of makeup out of necessity. Bruises didn’t heal quickly, and scars didn’t fade overnight. At least not for me, a weak wolf. I labeled the self healing properties that most possessed. I was weak, even for an Omega.

For years, my body bore the evidence of torture and torment, and my face became my canvas for survival.

Concealing a swollen cheek with a skillfully blended layer of foundation. Masking the purples and greens of bruises with color-correcting creams. Smiling through the cracks, pretending everything was fine. That was how I had endured.

It was a cruel education, but now, the skills I had honed back then felt like a small rebellion.

I smirked to myself, my fingers brushing against my pocket. The small pouch of powdered pigments and a makeshift compact mirror I carried everywhere were my tools. Tonight, they’d serve a new purpose.

The park market bustled with life, a sea of unfamiliar faces and hurried voices. I didn't realise how much I missed sneaking out like this. But this time, I wasn't appearing so unguarded.

Beneath the oversized tunic and the loose cap that shadowed my features, I walked unnoticed:; a scrappy boy with dusty hands and ragged clothes.

My figure was hidden under layers of clothing, my once-delicate features smeared with dirt to harden their edges and fit my disguise as a boy. The bindings around my chest itched, but I ignored the discomfort.

The aroma of fresh bread and roasted chestnuts wafted through the air, tempting my growling stomach. But I wasn’t here for food. My eyes scanned the market, darting from stall to stall, weaving through the crowd with purpose. The colorful scarves and trinkets held no interest to me.

I was looking for him.

I clenched my fists to steady myself, forcing my shoulders to relax, adopting the swagger of a young street urchin. If anyone suspected who I truly was, it would all fall apart. And I couldn’t afford mistakes, not now.

“Run along, Bastard!” A vendor barked at me to move as I lingered near his fruit stand, pretending to study an overripe apple. I tipped my cap lower in mock apology, muttering a few words in a rougher voice than my own before shuffling away.

I could use a bite or two on this crazy adventure of mine. I thought to myself with a sheepish smile. And then I saw him, a man standing near a cluster of traders, his back turned, but his posture unmistakable. My breath hitched as I recognised him. The moment I had prepared for was finally here.

Wait…was I even prepared?

What was I going to say to him first?

As I continued to watch him, my thoughts scattered when a sudden commotion erupted near the far side of the market. A boy, petite and quick, darted through the crowd, clutching a small bundle tightly to his chest. I barely had time to process what was happening before several market-goers shouted, pointing fingers at the thief.

“Thief! Stop him!”

The figure swerved toward me, desperate, his eyes wild with panic. For a moment, I froze, unsure of what to do until he crashed into me. My heart skipped in shock, and the stolen bundle flew out of his hold, landing near my feet.

Before I could react, rough hands grabbed me, pulling me back.

“You!” One of the guards shouted, seizing my arm with a vice-like grip. “You’re with him!”

“What? No, I…” I stammered, struggling to free myself, but they wouldn’t let go.

“Liar!” another guard shouted. “You’re the one who took it. Don’t try to run!”

I tried to pull away, twisting, but they were too strong, their hands ironclad as they pushed me toward the center of the market, where several onlookers now gathered. My chest tightened. Of all people right here, why did this have to happen to me?

The thief had vanished in the chaos, and I was left standing there, falsely accused.

“Please, I swear I didn’t…” My words were cut off as one of the guards yanked me by my arm, dragging me through the crowd.

“You’ll have to answer for this,” one of them muttered.

As they dragged me toward the road leading out of the market, a voice from one of the other guards caught my attention. “The Alpha King is in the Keller household. He’ll be the one to judge this.”

My stomach sank. The Keller household? Alpha King?

I grimaced at the cruel twist of fate. Of all the places to take me. Of all the people to be involved in this mess. It was as though the universe had thrown every possibility into a pot, mixed it up, and then decided that I would be the one to suffer.

I had known for a long time that fate had a cruel sense of humor, but this was getting ridiculous.