The Alpha’s Forsaken Mate

Mila I carried the tray of pastries on one palm and slipped out of the kitchen, into the crowd filling the great hall of the Light Pack house. Everyone had dressed in their finest for the night. Gowns in rich, bright colors swirled between black and white tuxedos until the whole hall seemed to glitter. Part of me was jealous that I was there to work instead of to celebrate. The other part was grateful I had found a job like this at all, so far from home and from the people who despised me. It was only three nights, but it felt like a holiday from the constant hatred of my family and the pack as a whole. I had barely stepped into the crowd before half my tray was empty. My cupcakes seemed to be the favorite of the evening. "When is he coming out?" a girl nearby asked. She wore a long, backless cocktail dress that showed off her shoulders and curves, and her black hair hung down like a curtain, so I never saw her face. "No idea, but this is the fourth time I've fixed my makeup!" another girl groaned, her eyes a vivid blue. "It's worth the wait. He's gorgeous, and you could actually end up as his Luna," a third girl said, smiling in a way that never reached her eyes. I rolled my eyes and kept walking. This was the welcome party for the prince, heir to the throne of the Light Pack. The Alpha King was throwing it for his son, and it was also a thinly disguised search for a wife. That was why nearly a thousand girls had packed the hall in their best outfits, all waiting for the prince to pick one of them. Gross. It was not only strange to me, it was ridiculous. I understood that these women wanted security, and I did not blame them for it. But standing in a line like a prize wolf on display, waiting for some arrogant fool to choose you, was not my idea of safety. I reached the far end of the crowd and stepped outside, where a different set of guests was gathered. These were women of lower rank, laughing and chatting, some with their fathers and a few other men beside them. Only four cupcakes were left on my tray. They really did love my baking. Two hands darted in and grabbed more, leaving me with just two. I was about to head back inside for a refill when I heard my name. "Mila!" It was my stepsister, Gracie, and I groaned inwardly. I had spent the whole night dodging her, but of course that had been impossible. She loved making me miserable. I turned to find her stomping toward me with fury in her eyes. "Is something wrong?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yes. Where is my drink?" she spat. "I told you, I'm not on drinks, Gracie." "You work in the kitchen, don't you?" "Look, I have a job to do and I don't have time for this." I started to turn back toward the house, and that was when she shoved me. What the hell? I felt myself tipping backward, and then a pair of hands caught me and held me steady. Relief rushed out of me in a sigh. The hands stayed around my waist for a moment. Then an arm reached past me and plucked the last cupcake off the tray. I looked over my shoulder and found the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He was dressed plainly, almost too plainly. He did not look like he belonged at this party, or like he had meant to come at all. He let go of me and took a bite of the cupcake, and he groaned out loud. "So that's why everyone's been going on about these. Delicious," he said, his voice deep and smooth, like a calm wave rolling in. "I'm Ben," he added, holding out a hand dusted with frosting. "Mila," I said, staring at the sticky fingers. "Oh, damn. Right." He laughed and wiped his hand on his worn jacket. "Sorry. Maybe we save the handshake for another time?" I laughed. For someone so tall and broad, he was unbelievably endearing. "It's fine. I can bring you more, if you want." Goodness, he was handsome. He was the kind of handsome that made you think of champagne, late nights and sheets you shouldn't be tangled in. "Would you?" he asked. "Y... yeah, of course. It's the least I can do after you kept me from landing on my face." I nodded. I couldn't see myself, but I was sure I had turned bright red. Someone's in love, my wolf, Mia, sang in my head. I ignored her. She could be such a silly pain sometimes. "Then I'll wait right here," he said. The way he said it sounded personal, as though he was not only talking about the cupcake. Or maybe my mushy brain just wanted it to sound that way. His eyes held mine, and I took the chance to look properly at them, a piercing gold, along with his strong nose and sharp jaw. "Everything okay?" he asked suddenly, and I snapped out of my staring and looked away, embarrassed. "Yeah, everything's, um, fine. Thank you. I'll go get them now." I hurried back into the kitchen and returned with an armful of cupcakes. I tucked a few into a paper bag first, in case the guests cleaned out my tray before I got back to him. As I'd feared, I had only two left on the tray by the time I reached him. "You're back," he said, turning to face me. "Yep, here you go." I handed him the bag. "Wow, thank you." He smiled at me, and my heart nearly melted. "You're welcome." He took one bite and moaned, his eyes rolling back. Okay, either he was trying to seduce me, or I was far weaker against random handsome men than I had believed. "Delicious," he murmured. "Thanks." I smiled. "Did you make these?" "Actually, I did." "That's amazing," he said, his eyes locked on mine as if he were trying to cast a spell. I wondered if it would be strange to ask him to stop smiling, because it was making my whole body feel odd. "Thank you." He went quiet and worked through a few more cupcakes, looking quite content, and his gaze never once left mine. "You have no idea what you just did for me," he said after finishing the third one. "I haven't eaten all day." "Oh no, I'm so sorry. Why not?" "Money trouble." He shrugged. Ah, of course. I looked him over again and finally understood. He was so good-looking that I had forgotten his clothes looked like they came from the slums. They were even worse than mine, and I only wore hand-me-downs from the other maids in the pack house. "I can find you more food before you go." "You must be some kind of angel," he grinned. Jeez. Why was everything about him so seductive? "Far from it. I'm just a lowly servant girl." I laughed and watched the crowd drift past, everyone chatting and having a wonderful time. "So what do you think of the prince?" he asked. "Are you one of the girls going crazy over him?" He said it out of nowhere. "Why, are you some kind of spy for him?" "God, no. I'm not a fan of royalty. I'd never spy for people like that." "Fair enough. Well, since you're not a spy, I guess I can speak freely," I said. He looked at me with interest. "I don't know the prince, but I bet he's as arrogant as his father and his brother. And honestly, I wouldn't blame him. If a hall full of beautiful women was fighting to be my Luna, nobody would be able to tell me anything either." He threw his head back and laughed. The sound was warm and rich, and I felt it in places too private to mention. It was a miracle that no other woman was staring at him. I was completely captivated. "You're hilarious." "Why, thank you." "But you're right. The prince is probably an arrogant fool." "I know. He's probably never heard the word no in his life. He's not my type. I want a man who has been through the mud and seen what life looks like outside of luxury. Not that I'd have a chance with him anyway," I said with a laugh. Ben did not laugh this time, and when I turned to look at him, he was watching me with an expression I couldn't read. "What?" "Nothing." He shook his head. "Mila!" It was the head chef, calling for me. "Shoot!" I groaned. "I'm sorry, I have to go," I told Ben. "I'll bring you more cupcakes, and maybe something else later," I said, and I bolted toward the chef without waiting for his answer. Mrs. Dominguez told me to come back into the kitchen because one of the assistants had been injured. I spent the next hour helping out and listening to the maids gossip about the prince. It turned out the ladies in the hall were not the only ones waiting for him to appear. Mrs. Dominguez came to find me again and sent me back out to serve. This time I carried a tray of drinks, and the moment I stepped out of the kitchen, I noticed something was wrong. The whole hall had gone silent, and everyone was staring toward the podium. I was short, so I couldn't see anything until I pushed my way into the middle of the crowd. Then I gasped. Ben was walking up to the podium, toward the king. "Welcome home, my son," the king said, and he pulled him into a hug. The tray slipped from my hands and the drinks crashed to the floor, and my stomach twisted painfully. What the hell?