The Alpha's Secret Mate

Flora Stormveil had always known there was something different about her. She just never imagined that within a night her entire world would turn upside down. At twenty-two, Flora lived a quiet life with her aunt Margaret in a small American town called Ashbourne. The town was surrounded by tall pine trees, narrow country roads, and mountains that disappeared behind thick clouds whenever it rained. It was the kind of place where everyone knew their neighbors, secrets travelled faster than the wind, and strangers rarely stayed for long. Flora had lived there for almost her entire life. Her parents had supposedly died in a terrible car accident when she was three years old. According to her aunt, their car had skidded off a wet road late one night while they were travelling home from a friend’s wedding. Neither of them survived. Flora had no clear memory of her parents. She only knew of her parents from the stories Aunt Margaret occasionally told her but lately, those stories had begun to feel incomplete. Whenever Flora asked about her mother, her aunt became unusually quiet. Sometimes she changed the subject. Other times, she would stare at Flora as though she were looking at someone who was standing behind her. Flora had learned not to ask too many questions. At least, she had tried. That morning, Flora woke with a splitting headache. She lay still for several seconds, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. The curtains were drawn, but pale sunlight slipped through the gaps and fell across her blanket. Her body felt strangely heavy. For weeks, she had been experiencing dizzy spells, sudden fevers, and dreams so vivid that she sometimes woke believing she could still hear the voices from them. The dreams were always similar. A forest beneath a blood-red moon. A woman with long dark hair calling her name. And a pair of glowing golden eyes watching her from the shadows. Every time Flora tried to see the face behind those eyes, she woke up. She pushed herself into a sitting position and pressed a hand against her forehead. “Not again.” she lamented. Her skin felt hot, but she was shivering. She reached for the glass of water on her bedside table. Her fingers trembled so badly that the glass slipped and spilled across the wooden floor. Flora stared at the water. For one strange moment, she thought she could hear a low growl somewhere but she could never figure out where it was coming from. She turned sharply, Nothing. Only the wind moving through the trees. She drew a slow breath and got out of bed. Perhaps she needed more sleep. Perhaps the stress of working long hours at the local café was finally catching up with her. There had to be a reasonable explanation for what was happening. There always was. At least, that was what she kept telling herself. Downstairs, the smell of fried eggs and fresh coffee filled the kitchen. Aunt Margaret stood beside the stove, wearing her usual grey cardigan, her silver-streaked hair tied into a loose bun. “You’re awake early.” Margaret said without turning around. Flora pulled out a chair. “I barely slept.” “Another nightmare huh” Flora paused. “How did you know?” Margaret turned around too quickly. For a moment, something like fear crossed her face. Then it disappeared. “You’ve been having them for weeks.” she replied, placing a plate on the table. “It isn't difficult to guess” Flora studied her aunt. “You know, you could at least pretend to be concerned.” Margaret sighed and sat opposite her. “I am concerned, Flora. That’s why I want you to stop pushing yourself so hard.” “I’m not pushing myself. I’m going to work, coming home, and sleeping. That’s practically my entire life.” “And perhaps you need to rest more.” “I rested yesterday.” “Then rest today.” Flora laughed softly. “And how exactly am I supposed to buy the things I need?” “I can help with that.” “You always say that, Aunt Margaret and I appreciate the gesture but I can take care of myself, why does it seem like you’re always afraid of something that I don’t know of.” The words escaped before Flora could stop them. Silence settled over the kitchen. Margaret's fingers tightened around her coffee mug. “What do you mean?” “I mean you keep looking at me like something terrible is about to happen. You tell me not to walk alone after dark. You insist on checking the locks every night. And whenever I ask about my parents, you try to change the topic.” Margaret's face grew pale. “Flora, some questions are better left unanswered.” “That doesn't make any sense.” “It will one day.” “When? When I'm thirty? Forty? When you're gone and I have nobody left to ask?” “Don't say that.” “Then tell me the truth!” Margaret stood abruptly, causing her chair to scrape against the floor. For several seconds, neither of them spoke. Then Margaret's expression softened. “I'm sorry.” she apologized. “I didn't mean to frighten you.” Flora looked away. “I just want to know more about my parents.” Margaret reached across the table and covered Flora's hand with her own. “Your mother loved you more than anything in this world.” “Then why do you never tell me about her?” Her aunt's eyes glistened. “Because remembering her hurts.” It was the first honest answer Flora felt she had received in years. She squeezed Margaret's hand. “I'm sorry too.” Margaret nodded, but Flora’s attention had already drifted towards the window. Outside, a black car was parked across the road but it looked too fancy, it was not the type of car folks around here could afford. “That car looks fancy I wonder if miss jean finally won the lottery.” Margaret froze. “What car?” “The car outside.” Her aunt turned towards the window, and the colour drained from her face. The car had been there for only a few minutes, but Margaret looked as if she had seen a ghost. “Go upstairs.” she said pushing Flora towards the stairs. Flora frowned. “What?” “Go upstairs and stay in your room.” “Why?” “Flora, please.” The desperation in her aunt's voice silenced her. As she reached the top of the stairs, she glanced back. Margaret was already reaching for her phone with trembling fingers looking like she was about to cry. An hour later, Flora was supposed to be at work but seeing the way Aunt Margaret acted, she dares not leave. Instead, she sat on the edge of her bed, trying to concentrate on the book she was reading. Suddenly, a sharp pain spread through her chest. Flora gasped and dropped the book. For a moment, the room tilted around her. She grabbed the edge of the bed, struggling to steady herself. Her heartbeat grew so loud that she could barely hear anything else. Then came a voice. ‘Find me.’ Flora jerked her head up. “Who's there?” Nobody answered. She rushed to the bedroom door and looked outside her room. Empty. Her phone vibrated on the bed. It was a message from her aunt. [Flora, come downstairs. We need to talk] Flora hurried down the stairs. She found Margaret in the living room, standing beside an old wooden cabinet that she usually kept locked. Several photographs lay scattered across the table. One of them showed a beautiful young woman with long dark hair and bright eyes. Flora held her breath for a moment. She knew that face. Not because she remembered it clearly, but because she had seen it in her dreams. She instinctively knew. “Mum?” Margaret turned around. And the photograph slipped from her hand. Flora picked it up slowly. The woman in the picture was holding a baby wrapped in a white blanket. Beside her stood a tall man who had a scar on the right side of his cheek. “Why have you been hiding this from me?” Margaret opened her mouth, but no words came out. “Who is he?” Flora demanded, pointing at the man. “Flora, listen to me, please.” Her voice stuttered Not minding the way she sounded, I asked. “Is that my father?” Margaret avoided her gaze. Then Flora heard it. Three hard knocks. Both women turned. Margaret's expression changed instantly. The sadness disappeared, replaced by a look of fear so deep Flora felt it in her own chest. “Go to the kitchen.” “No.” “Flora, please. And no matter what happens, do not open the door for anyone.” The knocking came again. A man's voice followed. “Margaret Stormveil, we know you're in there.” Flora felt a chill run down her spine. Another voice spoke from outside, this time a woman’s but it sounded a bit deep. “We've come for the you and the girl.” Margaret seized Flora's shoulders. “Listen carefully. Whatever you hear, you must not let them take you.” “Who are they?” “People who should never have discovered that you were still alive.” Flora stared at her. “Still alive? Aunt Margaret, what are you talking about?” Flora had a lot of questions to ask her Aunt Margaret but she knew now was not the time. Margaret’s eyes filled with tears and flora wish she knew what was going through Margaret’s mind; what she was afraid of and what kind of secrets was she carrying that weighed on her so heavily. “I wanted to protect you. I thought if I kept you away from them, you could have a normal life.” “Protect me from whom?” A loud crash shook the front door. Someone was trying to force it open. Margaret pulled Flora towards the back door. “You have to leave.” Flora shook her head. “I'm not leaving you!” “You must!” “Then tell me what's happening!” she cried Margaret took off her silver necklace and pushed it firmly against Flora's chest. It had a pendant was shaped like a crescent moon, with a tiny dark stone embedded in its centre. For as long as she could remember, her Aunt had always worn this necklace and never took it off. She lifted it between her fingers. It felt unusually warm. “Your mother gave me this the night she disappeared. She made me promise that you would never be taken by the people hunting her.” Flora felt the room spin. “My mother didn't die in a car accident?” “…” Margaret's silence was answer enough of an answer for Flora. “Do not take off this necklace and most importantly do not allow anyone to take it from you.” A second crash sounded from the front of the house. The door was beginning to give way. Margaret pulled Flora into a desperate embrace. “I love you more than you will ever understand. But if you stay here, they will use you to get what they want.” “What do they want?” Margaret drew back and looked directly into her eyes. “…” Silence again. A voice thundered from the other side of the house. “Margaret! He knows the girl is alive. Hand her over, and nobody needs to get hurt!” Flora's heart pounded. “He?” Margaret went completely still. Then she looked towards the back door. “Run, Flora.” Flora couldn't move. “Run!” Margaret screamed. Flora looked at her aunt, tears filling her eyes. She wanted to ask a thousand questions, but there was no time. “Follow the creek until you reach the old road,” she instructed. “Do not stop for anyone. Do not tell anyone your name. And whatever you do, stay away from the Blackwoods.” “Where am I supposed to go?” “Anywhere as long as they don’t find you.” Margaret cupped Flora's face in her hands. “And Flora?” “Yes.” “If a man with golden eyes tells you that you belong to him, don't believe him until you feel that it is the truth.” Before Flora could ask what that meant, her aunt pushed her through the back door and into the garden. Flora ran. She ran past the garden fence, through the narrow lane behind the property, and towards the distant sound of flowing water. Behind her, she heard shouting. Then a noise that sounded horribly unlike a human voice. A growl, then screams. She knew who they belong to. She kept running. She didn't know who was chasing her. She didn't know why her mother had disappeared or why these dangerous people wanted her. All she knew was that her aunt had been lying to her for years. And that the life she thought she knew had never been real. As Flora reached the old road, a sudden wave of dizziness swept over her. Her knees weakened. She caught herself against a tree and pressed her hand against her chest. The silver necklace burned against her skin. Then she heard a whisper. ‘The blood remembers.’ Flora gasped. Then, from somewhere deep within the distant forest, a wolf howled. It was followed by another. And another. She had never heard so many wolves calling at once. But the strangest part was that, for one impossible moment, she understood what they were saying. They were calling her name. ‘Flora.’ She stood at the entrance to the forest, terrified. Then she remembered her aunt's warning. ‘Stay away from the Blackwoods.’ Behind her, she knew the people who wanted her were getting closer. With nowhere else to run, Flora stepped towards the trees. She had no idea that the moment she crossed into the forest, she would begin a chain of events that would awaken an ancient secret, endanger the werewolves, and bring her face-to-face with a man she was fated to meet. The Alpha. And the man whose wolf would recognize her before he even knew her name.