Fated To The Alpha's Enemy

Chapter 6

Caleb POV

Devon stirs near the doorway. “She might already be in love with him. He’s been grooming her for this, and—”

“If she loves him,” I say, turning toward him slowly, “then this’ll be even easier.”

He gives me a look—the one that says are you sure about this.

I smirk.

“She’s either a nobody desperate for status, or she’s smart enough to latch onto the winning side. Either way… she’s not innocent.”

And I don’t need her to be.

“She’s perfect,” I mutter, almost to myself. “Not because I want her. But because Zion does.”

The mate hunt is everything I expected. Too shiny. Too loud. Too desperate.

The grand ballroom of the Regent’s castle is dressed up like some twisted fairytale. One where everyone’s smiling, but no one means it.

Diamond-cut chandeliers drip from the ceiling as light from the blood moon above us bounces off silk gowns, sharp suits, and eyes that want things they haven’t earned.

Violins saw out tragic love songs near the stage—the kind that make Omegas swoon and old Alphas feel important. Every inch of this room reeks of effort, a curated illusion meant to sell the lie that this is about love, fate, and Mate bonds.

It’s not.

It’s about power. Titles. Legacy.

And Zion’s about to parade his future right here on this polished floor.

For every woman, there’s an Alpha or Beta who accompanied her here and is trying to get lucky. Not just for the bond, but for the bragging rights. Find a pretty Omega, walk away with a Mate and a story for the future kids.

I walk in with Devon and Elias behind me, cutting through the noise. There are murmurs the second my boots hit marble. The men don’t know why I’m here, but I’ve always openly disliked my brother, and that, at least, is no secret.

The women? They bat their lashes like I’m the prize they forgot to pray for.

I ignore them. Not because I’m above it or interested in the first place, but because my wolf is already snapping in my chest—too tight and restless from being back in the place that ruined us.

This castle raised me. And buried me.

My Betas and I keep to the bar, away from the stage, away from the spotlight. The last thing I want is for Zion to hone in on me while I possibly steal his Mate.

And speaking of the devil, the music shifts. Not by much, but enough to announce to everyone that the Wolf Regent has just graced us with his presence.

Zion walks in like he owns the place. Because technically, he does.

Same custom suit, pressed to perfection. Same practiced smile. Same smug air that says worship me without saying a damn word.

And beside him? Her.

Adora.

I don’t think I even noticed her at first.

Not because she isn’t stunning, but because I wasn’t looking stunning. I was looking for weakness. For some gold-digging little thing Zion dragged in to decorate his arm this evening, all in the name of him wanting a Mate that badly.

My brother doesn’t offer to introduce her at first as he walks off to speak to some Alphas.

She doesn’t follow him either. She stands across the ballroom, near the stage.

Not giggling. Not selling herself like the rest. She stands still. Back straight. Chin lifted like she knows exactly how many knives are pointed at it.

Her Garcia hair glows under the chandeliers, braided tightly over one shoulder. Her dress is pale, soft, just like the rest of her. It’s a quiet kind of beauty that doesn’t scream for attention.

And Goddess help me… I feel it.

That f*****g pull. The kind I can’t even begin to fathom. The kind that is nowhere near soft or sweet, but brutal instead. Like iron sinking into my ribs.

My wolf slams against my chest so hard it knocks the air from my lungs. He doesn’t growl. He roars.

I stagger a step back, grabbing the edge of the bar as my heart slams against my ribs. I down the rest of the drink in one burning gulp, but it does nothing to settle the storm roaring in my chest.

“She’s here,” I say under my breath.

“Yeah,” Devon replies, too distracted. “Adora Garcia. That’s her.”

“No,” I growled. “She’s here.”

My Mate.

Her scent hits me first, all the way across the room. She smells like crushed violets, a scent that has something howling inside me. Recognition. Possession. Hunger.

And the moment her eyes find mine across the room? Her wolf wakes.

I see it. Goddess, I f*****g feel it.

She jolts like she’s been struck by lightning.

Her lips part, trembling. Her pupils dilate. Her fingers twitch like claws are trying to break free. Her chest lifts in short, stuttering breaths.

She knows.

She doesn’t even have to say it. Her body is screaming for mine.

Her wolf is fighting to get to me.

Like she knows me. Like she’s imagined me countless times in that pretty head of hers. I can’t even discount the possibility that we’ve met somewhere before, because my wolf snarls inside me like I’ve known her for a century.

Her hand lifts slightly, as if reaching for me from across the room.

Then, her hand drops.

And then? She runs.

Not toward Zion, who’s supposed to be her Mate, her protection.

She bolts for the nearest exit like the air’s turned to poison.

“She’s running,” Elias mutters.

“No,” I say, shoving the drink from my hand so hard it cracks against the bar. “She’s drowning.”

And I move.

Because my wolf isn’t pacing anymore. He’s howling.

Because she’s not Zion’s. She was never his.

The bond snarls between us like a chain around my throat.

She’s mine, and I hate the part of me that wants that to mean something.

But I didn’t come here to fall.

I came here to break him.

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