Marked by the Wrong Alpha

Part 1 The forest was alive with whispers. The cold wind carried the smell of rain and pine needles, brushing against my skin like a warning. I tightened the hood of my cloak and quickened my steps along the narrow path. The moon was climbing higher, its silver glow spilling across the trees, but it only made the shadows seem deeper, heavier—like eyes watching from the dark. I hated coming here at night, yet something always drew me back. Maybe it was the silence, maybe the illusion of freedom. Within these trees, away from the pack’s suffocating rules, I could almost pretend I belonged to myself. Almost. “Elara.” The sound of my name made me freeze. The voice was smooth, low, dangerous. My heart kicked against my ribs as I turned. From between the trees, a figure emerged—broad-shouldered, tall, moving with the effortless grace of someone who knew he owned the night. His eyes glowed faintly in the dark, an amber hue that caught the moonlight like fire. Alpha Lucien. The wrong Alpha. I swallowed hard, instinct screaming at me to run, yet my body betrayed me, rooted to the earth. He stepped closer, and the power in his presence pressed against me, invisible but suffocating. He didn’t need to touch me; his aura alone could bend the will of any wolf, and mine was no exception. “You shouldn’t wander alone,” Lucien said, his voice a velvet thread laced with steel. “Not when others are hunting tonight.” I clenched my fists, forcing my tone steady. “I can take care of myself.” His mouth curved in the faintest shadow of a smile, but it wasn’t kind. “Brave words. Do you really believe them?” Something shifted in the air, thick and electric, as he closed the distance. My pulse stumbled, my skin prickling under his gaze. The forest felt too small, too quiet. I wanted to tell him to leave, that I wasn’t afraid—but the truth was written in the way my breath hitched. “You feel it too, don’t you?” His words were almost a whisper. “The bond.” I shook my head hard. “You’re wrong. My mate isn’t you.” Lucien tilted his head, studying me with eyes that seemed to see through the skin and bone. “The Moon Goddess doesn’t make mistakes. You were meant to be mine.” “No,” I whispered, though the word cracked. “You’re not my Alpha.” But even as I denied him, the air between us burned with something I couldn’t explain. My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, pulled toward him, aching in ways I didn’t want to acknowledge. Lucien’s hand lifted, slow, deliberate, as if he were giving me time to stop him. I didn’t move. His fingers brushed my cheek, and a jolt like lightning shot through me, stealing my breath. My knees weakened, my heart racing out of control. It wasn’t supposed to feel like that. “It’s useless to fight it, Elara,” he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. “The bond will only tighten its grip.” I forced myself to step back, breaking the contact, my body trembling. “No. I won’t accept it. I won’t accept you.” His eyes darkened, that faint smile twisting into something sharper. “Then you’ll suffer twice as much.” The sound of a branch snapping nearby tore through the tension. I gasped, spinning toward the noise—but when I turned back, Lucien was gone. Only the wind remained, carrying his scent, rich and intoxicating, a reminder that he had been here. That he had touched me. My chest heaved as I stumbled back toward the village, my mind a storm of denial and fear. The wrong Alpha had claimed me. Not in words, not yet—but in ways that mattered more. And deep down, I knew this was only the beginning. Part 2 By the time I stumbled out of the forest, my lungs were burning, and my legs trembled from running. The village lights glimmered faintly ahead, small yellow dots against the endless dark. My chest was still tight, not from the sprint, but from the echo of his touch—Lucien’s touch—that lingered like a brand seared into my skin. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to smother the sensation. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. The Moon Goddess would never bind me to him. She couldn’t be that cruel. The wooden gate creaked as I slipped back into the safety of the pack’s space. A guard gave me a questioning look, but I kept my head down and hurried past before he could ask where I’d been. If anyone found out I’d been near Lucien—worse, that I’d spoken to him—rumors would spread like wildfire. Inside the village, the night was quieter. Huts lined the narrow dirt paths, warm with the smell of woodsmoke and cooking herbs. Laughter drifted from one of the homes where families gathered around a fire. It should have comforted me. Instead, it only reminded me how alone I truly was. “Elara!” I froze. A familiar voice called from behind, softer than Lucien’s but filled with genuine warmth. When I turned, I found Elias jogging toward me, his dark hair falling into his eyes, his expression laced with worry. “Where have you been?” he asked, slightly breathless. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” My throat tightened. Elias was the one person who had always been there for me, the one who made me believe I still belonged somewhere. He wasn’t my mate, but if I could have chosen—if fate had given me a say—it would have been him. “I just needed air,” I lied, forcing a smile. His gaze lingered on my face, sharp and searching, as though he could see the truth I fought to hide. “You shouldn’t wander off this late. It’s dangerous.” Dangerous. The word sent a shiver down my spine, and I quickly looked away. “I’ll be fine.” “Elara…” His voice softened, carefully. “You can tell me if something’s wrong.” The words almost broke me. I wanted to pour everything out—that Lucien had found me, that he claimed I was his, that I felt a pull I couldn’t resist—but I couldn’t. Elias would never understand. No one would. To admit it aloud was to give it power, and I wasn’t ready for that. “I’m just tired,” I said instead, brushing past him toward the small house I shared with my aunt. But Elias caught my wrist gently, holding me in place. “If you ever need me, I’m here. "You know that, don’t you?” I nodded, swallowing against the lump in my throat. “I know.” He let go, but the concern in his eyes lingered as he watched me walk away. When I finally shut the door behind me, silence crashed over me like a wave. I leaned against the wood, eyes squeezed shut, and let out the breath I’d been holding since the forest. My aunt was asleep, her steady breathing drifting from the other room, but I couldn’t rest. Not with his voice still echoing in my mind. Not with my wolf, restless and uneasy inside me. Not with the undeniable truth I kept trying to bury. I pressed a trembling hand into my chest. The bond was real. I had felt it—raw, consuming, inescapable. And the most terrifying part was this: a small, traitorous part of me hadn’t wanted to resist.