The Alpha's Wolfless Mate

Isla moved quietly through the hall of the Silver Crest Pack house. Her bare feet pressed softly against the cold stone floor. She kept her head low and her hands busy with the tray of food she carried. The smell of roasted meat filled the air but she ignored it. It had been ten years since her parents died. Ten years of being blamed for their deaths. Ten years of being called weak and useless. And ten years of Damon making her life miserable. She remembered when she was twelve. Her parents had hugged her tight before the fire. Then everything went black. Now she was an omega slave. Wolfless, helpless, and despised. Damon’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Watch where you’re going, omega” he sneered from the staircase above. “You’d trip over your own shadow if I didn’t push you.” Isla lowered her eyes and kept walking. She had learned a long time ago that looking at him only made things worse. “I’m not trying to trip,” she whispered, almost to herself. “Don’t talk back” Damon barked, his eyes flashing. “Or I’ll find a new way to remind you that you’re worthless.” Isla’s fingers tightened around the tray. She wanted to yell, to fight, but she didn’t. Not yet. Survival meant silence. She entered the dining hall where the pack elders sat. Their eyes followed her like she was a shadow. They didn’t speak, but their disapproval was louder than any words. She set the tray down on the long table. “You forgot the bread again” one of the younger pack members said, smirking. “I’m sorry” Isla said quietly. “You’re always sorry,” Damon said, stepping closer. His presence made the air heavier. “Maybe if you worked harder, you wouldn’t be so useless.” Isla lowered her gaze. She felt the old familiar ache in her chest. But something inside her stirred. She had survived this long. She could survive another day. Her wolfless body made her weak in the eyes of the pack, but they did not know the truth. Her wolf was bound. Hidden. Waiting. “Bring the alpha’s wine” Damon ordered, turning to her. “Yes,” Isla said, bowing. She poured the wine into a golden cup, hands shaking slightly. Damon snatched it from her hands. “You spill one drop, and you’ll regret it,” he said. Isla swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t respond. Words were dangerous with him. Later that evening, she cleaned the alpha’s study. Damon leaned against the doorway, watching. “You think you can hide from me?” he asked. “I’m not hiding” Isla said softly. Damon chuckled darkly. “Everything about you is hiding. Your face, your eyes, even your fear. You’re pathetic.” “Maybe” she said quietly. “But I survived.” Damon’s smile twisted. “Surviving isn’t living. You don’t know what that means.” Isla looked down. She did know. Living was dangerous. Living meant pain. But surviving… surviving was something she was good at. Her mind drifted to the ceremony that would happen tomorrow. Damon would become Alpha. Maybe then he would banish her. Maybe she would finally be free. She allowed herself a small hope. But she did not let herself dream too much. Dreaming only led to disappointment. The next morning the hall was filled with pack members. The air smelled of incense and blood. Damon stood tall at the center, dressed in ceremonial robes. Isla kept to the side, invisible to most. The elder spoke, chanting words she didn’t understand. Power and energy flowed through the room. Her skin tingled. Something was happening. Something that made her heart race and her stomach twist. And then it snapped. A bolt of heat shot through her chest. Her knees shook. She gasped and looked up. Damon froze. His eyes widened, his lips parted. “You…” he whispered. She didn’t understand. I didn't have time to think. The bond… it connected them. The mate bond. Damon stepped back, almost tripping. “No… this isn’t possible” he said, his voice low and filled with fear. Isla’s heart pounded. Her mind screamed. What did this mean? She felt something deep inside, pulling her toward him. Warmth. Anger. Desire. Fear. “You’re my mate” the elder said, voice booming. “The bond cannot lie” Damon’s face twisted in disgust. “I… I don’t… I can’t…” “Yes you can,” the elder said. “You are an Alpha. You cannot reject your mate. Not without consequences to the pack.” Isla’s stomach sank. She had hoped for freedom. She had hoped for exile. But now she was trapped. Damon’s jaw tightened. He turned away, looking anywhere but at her. “Everyone, nothing to see here,” he said loudly. “This… this is a mistake” Whispers ran through the hall. Some pack members stared at Isla with pity. Some with curiosity. None with the respect she secretly craved. Isla held her head high, even as her legs shook. She would survive. She always survived. After the ceremony, Damon refused to speak to her. He walked beside other pack members, ignoring her completely. But the bond pulsed inside her, reminding her that she was his mate. That connection could not be broken. Later, as she swept the hall, she whispered to herself. “I will not be your pawn forever Damon” Her hands clenched around the broom. Her wolf stirred inside, bound but alive. One day she would show him. One day she would be free. But for now, she endured. The cruel Alpha. The endless abuse. The secret that made her stronger than anyone knew. Tomorrow, the pack would wake to the news that Isla was no longer invisible. That she had a place. That she was the mate of the Alpha. And Damon… Damon would have to face her whether he liked it or not.