Despite all the harshness and discipline that shaped my youth—despite the constant pressure, the battles, the expectations—I held onto one secret longing for many years.
I wanted to meet my fated mate.
My parents weren’t fated. My father chose my mother for practical reasons—strong lineage, useful alliances. For her, the marriage was a great honor, a rise in status. No one complained. No one asked for more. Eventually, they grew to care for each other in their own way, but passion had never been a part of it.
My mother always stood by my father. Even when his discipline was cold and unrelenting, she never softened it. She never shielded me from his harsh grip.
So even the one person who should have offered comfort never gave it. Love, in my world, was a distant myth.
And yet, after his death… I breathed. I loved my father, I respected him, but his presence had been like a collar around my throat.
What surprised me most? Even after he was gone, I didn’t stop the grueling training. I had always fantasized about abandoning it—but when freedom finally came, I realized that it was never really about him.
I needed it. I needed to be stronger, sharper. I needed to survive and lead.
My mother was pleased by that. These days, she lives with her second husband within our pack. The man’s fine, I suppose, but I don’t visit them often. Maybe it’s lingering resentment from a joyless childhood. Maybe it’s loyalty to my father’s memory. Maybe both.
After the strict Alpha was gone, I allowed myself more freedom. Passionate nights with she-wolves were no longer restricted to full moons and ceremonial occasions. Still, even surrounded by desire, I quietly hoped to find the one.
The woman meant for me.
I even began building a home—a real one, meant for a future Luna. I designed every inch with her in mind. Years passed. She never came.
I’m thirty-four now. The fire of youth has faded, along with the naive dreams. And so, I changed the plan. If fate wouldn't give me a mate, I’d take matters into my own hands. A strategic marriage. One that would benefit my pack.
To the south lies a vast, powerful territory led by an aging Alpha—Kainell. He has a daughter, Randaya. Strong, beautiful, and politically ideal. Our union would be a merger of influence, security, and future prosperity.
I had just returned from a meeting with them, where subtle offers were laid on the table. I didn’t reject them. Why would I?
But fate… it had other plans.
So many years searching, waiting… only to find her not in a distant land, but in my own home.
In my own bed.
Tired from the journey, I chose to stay at my countryside estate instead of returning to my city apartment. I needed time to think, to weigh decisions.
Even before reaching the front door, I noticed a beat-up old car parked near the estate. It clashed horribly with the landscape—like a stain on a masterpiece.
My wolf stirred instantly, tension humming through my body.
And then, the moment I opened the door, it hit me.
A scent. Delicate. Wild. Dizzying.
Tulips. Sun-warmed petals. But more than that—her.
I was nearly undone.
How could this be?
How could such a perfect, intoxicating scent be here… in my house?
In mere seconds, I was in my bedroom—and I froze.
There she was. The owner of that intoxicating scent. Peacefully sleeping... in my bed.
Her maid’s uniform was unbuttoned at the chest, revealing the curve of her full breasts, barely restrained by a delicate lace bra. The modest fabric of her outfit couldn’t hide the softness, the tempting fullness that had slipped free just enough to drive my wolf mad.
Her hair—fiery red—had spilled loose from its tie, cascading over my pillow like liquid flame. There was something wild and mystical about her, like she didn’t belong in this world at all. She looked less like a maid and more like a spellbound enchantress who had wandered into my den.
And then I realized…
She was human.
The truth slammed into me like a blow. My mate... was human.
For a moment, I wished I had never walked into that room.
Never smelled her.
Never seen her.
A human couldn’t be my Luna. She couldn’t match the strength of a dominant Alpha. I had never even considered the possibility—why would I?
My bloodline was pure. Generation after generation of born wolves. Never once had a human diluted that strength.
And now this? This freckled, fragile, curvy contradiction—this was my fated mate?
Was the universe mocking me?
How would anyone in my pack take this seriously? How would they respect me after this? I had fought, bled, and earned my power through fire—and now fate handed me a human girl with wild hair and a soft body, like a joke only the gods could understand.
But my wolf…
My wolf didn’t care.
He surged toward her, demanding to claim her, inhaling her scent like it was the only air he’d ever needed.
To him, she was more than perfect. Human, wolf, spirit or storm—it made no difference to him. She was ours.
And that terrified me.
Because now, I wasn’t just fighting fate—I was fighting myself. Fighting the part of me that had waited for her, craved her without even knowing.
Gods, even in the bloodiest of battles, I’d never struggled like this. My control, my dominance—it all unraveled the moment I leaned over her, pressing her delicate body into the mattress.
My weight pinned her, and I could feel the heat radiating from her skin, the softness beneath me. My instincts roared. My mind screamed. And my wolf was ready to mark what he now considered his.