Two Alphas, One Mate

Chapter One

Love. A word that feels as distant and intangible to me as a star at the edge of the universe. In my twenty years of life, I've never known it—not from my family, and certainly not from my pack. I've never felt the warmth of a mother’s embrace, or the pride in a father’s eyes. Instead, I've known coldness. Indifference. Disdain.

My father, the Alpha of the Lunar Shadows pack, betrayed his true mate with my mother, a woman who loved him blindly, fully, without hesitation. She gave him everything, and he took it. But my existence—my very being—was a product of that betrayal. I was born from a lie, from a moment of weakness that destroyed everything my father had built, and it cost my mother her life. She died giving birth to me, leaving me to face the world alone, a constant reminder of a mistake that neither of my parents could undo.

Left in the care of my father, I was never given the love or affection a daughter deserves. He loathed me. Hated me, in fact. I wasn’t part of his perfect world, and I was too much of a reminder of his infidelity to be anything but a burden. As if that weren’t enough, my stepmother—his true mate, the one he was supposed to love—despised me with every fiber of her being. Oriana, with her flawless beauty and perfect life, resented the fact that I even existed. I was the constant shadow that followed her, the mark of my father’s transgression. And she made sure I knew it.

Her hatred for me ran deeper than any wound I’d ever received. It wasn’t just the cruel words or the cold glares. It was in the way she ignored me, the way she made it clear with every glance that I wasn’t welcome, that I didn’t belong. As if her disdain wasn’t enough, she passed that venom down to her daughter, Addison. My half-sister. The one who could do no wrong.

Addison. The golden child. The one whose light seemed so blinding, so flawless, it made my existence feel like an afterthought. She was everything I could never be. Beautiful in a way that made heads turn, confident in a way that made others feel small beside her, and adored by every single person who laid eyes on her. She was my father’s pride, the one he could boast about without hesitation, the one my pack spoke of with admiration and love. Addison was perfect—the daughter they could love, the one they could shower with affection without a second thought.

And me? I was the blemish on their picture-perfect family, the one who didn’t belong, no matter how hard I tried to fit in.

While Addison was effortlessly graceful, with her long, golden hair that sparkled in the sunlight and her flawless skin, I was the complete opposite. I was chubby, my body heavier than what seemed acceptable in the eyes of my pack, and my chocolate skin, though beautiful in its own right, only reminded me of the way I didn’t belong in this family. I had inherited so much from my mother, and yet, all of it seemed to mark me as different—undesirable.

The strangest thing about me, though, the thing that made me stand out most, was my hair. White. Pure white. It was the color of snow, the same shade my mother had worn, and yet, in this pack, it felt wrong. Like a symbol of something broken. Something that didn’t fit with the rest. My father had brown hair, like Addison, like most of the pack, and my stepmother, Oriana, had dark, glossy locks that framed her face perfectly. But me? I had white hair that set me apart in a way that felt more like a curse than a blessing.

I grew up in the shadow of her perfection, always second, always overlooked. She had my father’s affection, the pack’s respect, and the life I could never have. I, on the other hand, was the outcast. The girl who didn’t belong. I was bullied, taunted, and treated like a disgrace by everyone in the pack. Their words were like daggers—cruel, unrelenting. I learned to keep my head down, to stay invisible, to never draw attention to myself. Because when I did, it only gave them more ammunition to use against me.

Addison was everything. I was nothing. That was the truth I’d come to accept, the reality I’d learned to live with.

The worst part? I was almost 21, and still, I hadn’t shifted. The absence of my wolf was just another cruel reminder from the Moon Goddess herself, a silent punishment for the sins of my parents.

Today was Asher’s 21st birthday—the day his mate would be revealed to him. The Beta’s son. Handsome, strong, destined to take over from my father as Alpha one day. And everyone expected him to be paired with Addison. They’d been inseparable since they were nineteen, a perfect match, everyone said. They were already planning their future, and Asher was poised to become the next leader of the Lunar Shadows pack—after he mated my sister.

I stood there, watching the gathering crowd, the celebratory air thick with anticipation, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of bitterness in my chest. It wasn’t just about Asher and Addison. It was the way the entire pack—my family, my father—had all but erased me. Like I didn’t matter. Like I wasn’t even worthy of their attention.

The atmosphere in the grand hall was electric, buzzing with excitement and the clink of glasses. The chandeliers overhead shimmered, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. Long tables were laden with platters of food—roasted meats, delicate pastries, fruits, and cakes, all arranged with a careful precision that could only come from the best chefs. The rich scent of perfumes and colognes mingled with the more earthy aroma of fresh herbs and sizzling dishes. Laughter and chatter filled the air, but there was an underlying tension, a sense of expectation. This was more than just a birthday party—it was an event, a grand celebration for the Beta’s son, Asher, and the entire pack was there to witness his 21st birthday.

I wasn’t allowed to be part of that celebration, though. I wasn’t allowed to mingle with my family at these functions. While my father, the Alpha, stood near the Beta, deep in conversation about the future of the pack, my stepmother, Oriana, was chatting with Asher’s mother. They both looked the part of the high-ranking females—elegant, poised, and draped in fine gowns. Oriana wore a deep red dress that clung to her figure, the color matching the fire in her eyes when she looked at me.

Asher and Addison were nowhere to be seen, but I had no doubt they were off somewhere, probably hidden away, locked in their own world. The thought of them together twisted something inside me, but I had learned long ago to swallow the bitterness and keep my head down. I was nothing but the servant here.

I carefully carried a tray of drinks—glasses of sparkling wine, delicate and glistening like the evening’s atmosphere. The weight of the tray in my hands was oddly comforting, something I could focus on as I navigated through the crowded room. My shoes clicked softly against the polished floor as I moved through the sea of people, making my way to the far side of the room to serve more guests.

Just as I was about to pass between two groups of chatterers, I felt a sharp shove from behind. The tray slipped from my hands before I could even register what had happened. It crashed to the floor with a deafening clatter, the glasses shattering into jagged pieces, scattering across the marble like glittering shards of my dignity.

The room was heavy with silence, a thick, suffocating tension that pressed in on me from all sides. Every pair of eyes felt like they were searing into my skin, the weight of their judgment palpable in the air. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I could feel my heart racing in my chest. I had never wanted to disappear more than I did in that moment.

I muttered a quick apology, the words barely making it past my lips as I dropped to my knees, fumbling to pick up the scattered shards of glass. Each jagged piece cut into my trembling fingers, but the pain barely registered. The sting was nothing compared to the humiliation I felt, nothing compared to the way my chest tightened as I fought to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. It was just another night, another event where I wasn’t allowed to be anything but invisible.

But then, I heard his voice.

“It can’t be.”

Asher’s voice cut through the stillness, sharp and full of disbelief. The sound of it was different from how I remembered. It wasn’t just surprised—it was tinged with something else, something I couldn’t quite place. My body froze, and my hand, still holding a shard of glass, stopped mid-motion. I felt a chill run down my spine as I slowly looked up, my heart stumbling in my chest.

He was standing a few feet away, his posture straight and imposing. Asher. He was dressed in a crisp white dress shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, accentuating the strength of his frame. The black slacks he wore were perfectly tailored, hugging his long, muscular legs, and his dark hair was neatly styled, as if he had just stepped out of some magazine. But it wasn’t his appearance that made me freeze—it was the look on his face.

His blue eyes locked onto mine, and I was struck by the intensity in them. There was shock, yes, but there was something else there too—something colder, harder. Something that made my chest tighten. The expression on his face was almost unreadable, but the disbelief was unmistakable. He was staring at me as if I was a stranger, as if he couldn’t believe I existed, let alone be standing there in front of him.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” he whispered, his voice low and laced with something I couldn’t quite decipher. But there was no warmth in it. No affection. Only disbelief, tinged with something darker.

I blinked, my mind racing, trying to process what he had just said. What was he talking about? What did he mean? My breath hitched in my throat, and for a moment, all I could do was stare at him, confused and utterly lost.

The glass shard trembled in my hand as I stood up from the floor, the broken tray now forgotten at my feet. My mind was a whirlwind of questions, but none of them made sense. His gaze was fixed on me, and I felt a chill creep up my spine as the weight of it pressed down on me, suffocating. It wasn’t just confusion in his eyes anymore—it was something else. Disgust. I could see it, faint but undeniable, lurking behind the shock.

I didn’t understand. Why was he looking at me like that? What was happening?

The room had grown quiet, everyone watching now, their curiosity piqued, no doubt wondering what was happening. I felt their eyes on me, some full of pity, others judging. I could already hear the whispers that were sure to follow.

And then he said it.

“You are my mate.”