The Alpha's Secret Mate

chapter 19

Oh, Goddess! What was I thinking? I wasn’t even sure how many days I would survive here. My actions already offended Jeanne Mason, so my plan to stay on her good side had been an exceptional failure. But why was she so rude towards Kyle? It was probably because of me. I heard many gossips regarding how mother-in-laws had beef with their daughter-in-laws because their sons took their wife's side. Yet that didn't seem to be a reasonable explanation. She didn't seem very fond of him. Was it because he wasn't her child?

I sighed as I massaged my temples. Once my brain conjured thoughts, it wouldn't stop until it physically hurt. I wished I could abandon my mind. It would be wrong of me to put my nose in their family affairs. My focus should be on survival. I have to stay in Jeanne's good graces so that she doesn't find dirt on me. Maybe I should apologize to her. I would do that the first thing tomorrow morning.

Feeling clear-headed about my goal, I walked back to my room when I heard a whiplash and froze. I turned to the hallway on my right. I shouldn't be bothering myself with the affairs of this house. Then why was I walking towards the source of the sound? I followed the sound of whips, each sound biting into my back, reminding me of the time my dad's beta whipped me. I shook my head. Now was not the time to think about it.

I walked with light steps, not wanting to wake anyone up. Eventually, I found myself in the east wing of the manor. The faint sound came from the hallway to my left. Drawing closer, I pressed against the wall and cautiously peered around the corner. My eyes widened the moment I witnessed the source of the sound. Even in the darkness, the faint moonlight spilling through the windows in the hallway was enough to show the fragile body of a girl kneeling on the floor, her bare back exposed to the whiplashes that came one after the other. There were deep, red marks on her back and the faint sound of her sobbing was profound in my ears.

Two women wearing maid uniforms stood in front of the girl, one holding the whip while the other slapped her. What was happening? Why were they hurting the girl? By the looks of her uniform, she also seemed to be a maid.

"Please let me go. I—I won't do it again. I promise," she pleaded, clasping her hands and begging with tears in her eyes. My heart clenched at the sight, and I suddenly saw myself in the girl who was begging for mercy. But before I could do anything, I saw my dad's beta holding the whip before me.

Luana’s POV

Blood pounded in my ears. Why was he here? How had he even entered? He took a daunting step forward, and I instinctively pressed my hand against the wall, feeling the cold sweat rolling down my forehead. No, this couldn't be happening. It had to be some sort of illusion.

He held the belt with menacing spikes—the one he used on me. "You hurt the Alpha's daughter. There must be consequences." With a sharp crack, he brought the belt down onto the floor, the sound making me flinch involuntarily.

"Please, just go away... please..." I whispered, my voice barely audible, but he remained there: an imposing figure in the dark hallway. My legs wobbled beneath me, and I struggled to draw in enough oxygen.

"No evil deed goes unpunished." His words reverberated against the silent walls as the belt struck the floor once more, the sound ringing in my ears. The acrid taste of fear lingered at the tip of my tongue. He raised his arm and swung the whip toward me, charging it menacingly.

"No!" I shut my eyes tightly and covered my ears with my trembling palms.

"Who's there?" someone's voice called from a distance, and I cautiously opened my eyes. My dad's beta was nowhere to be seen. I placed a hand on my chest, feeling its rhythmic rise and fall as I took deep breaths. It had been an illusion. But my screams had drawn the maids' attention.

I should have carried my pills with me.

Wiping the sweat from my face, I turned to face the two maids. My legs felt weak—unsteady beneath me—but I forced myself to stand tall, chin lifted high despite the dizziness threatening to pull me under.

“I witnessed what you two were doing,” I said, my voice steady, though it took effort to keep it that way.

The maid holding the whip arched a brow at me. She looked older than the girl beside her, her expression sharp with authority.

“And who might you be to issue orders?” she asked coolly. “Are you a new recruit?”

I closed my eyes briefly and exhaled. Why did everyone keep mistaking me for a servant?

My fingers brushed unconsciously over the worn fabric of my nightgown. I couldn’t exactly blame them. There was nothing about my appearance that spoke of status or privilege. Even their uniforms looked far more refined than what I wore.

The second maid leaned closer to the first, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Glory… I think she’s the alpha’s wife. I heard she arrived today, but her clothes…”

Her words trailed off, but it didn’t matter. Both of them were staring at me now.

So she was Glory. The name rang faintly in my mind—Joanne must have mentioned her before.

Their expressions were filled with curiosity, silently asking the same question: Is she really his wife?

If Michelle were here, there would be no doubt. She carried herself like nobility—graceful, confident, adorned in the finest fabrics our father could provide. She belonged in a world of luxury.

I, on the other hand, stood out like a stain. My wardrobe was dull, inexpensive… forgettable.

And yet, I took pride in it.

These clothes were earned—every thread bought with my blood, my sweat, and my tears.

Glory’s lips curved into a polite, carefully crafted smile. “My lady, we apologize for the misunderstanding. You must have lost your way. This is the servants’ quarters. If you’d like, Hannah can guide you back to the master’s chambers.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” I replied, my gaze drifting past her to the girl beside her.

The girl stared back at me with wide, frightened eyes. A dark bruise marred her face, stark against her skin.

My chest tightened.

How could they treat her so cruelly over something so trivial?

Anger flared within me, sharp and sudden, tangling with a deep, aching concern as my heart began to pound.

“I want you to leave her alone and return to your chambers,” I said, forcing authority into my voice.

The words sounded strange even to my own ears—too firm, too commanding, like they belonged to someone else entirely. A faint tremor lingered beneath them, betraying the uncertainty I tried so hard to bury.

Because this wasn’t who I was.

All my life, I had been the one receiving orders, not giving them. I had learned early that obedience was survival. That silence was safety. That resistance only led to pain—pain that lingered long after the bruises faded.

The memory of it still lived in my bones.

The shouting. The punishments. The cold nights spent regretting even the smallest defiance.

So standing here now, telling someone else what to do… it felt unnatural. Like I was stepping into a role I had never been meant to play.

For a brief moment, doubt flickered.

Then I looked at the girl again.

At the way she trembled.

At the dark bruise marring her face.

And the doubt burned away.

To my surprise, Glory didn’t react with fear—or even respect.

She laughed.

A soft, almost amused chuckle slipped past her lips, as though my words were nothing more than a child’s tantrum.

“My lady,” she said smoothly, though the faint edge of mockery in her tone was impossible to miss, “please, there’s no need to trouble yourself over something so insignificant. This is a minor matter within the servants’ quarters. We have our own methods of handling discipline.”

Her gaze lingered on me—slow, assessing, dismissive.

It scraped against my pride.

My fingers curled slightly at my sides as heat rose in my chest.

“Discipline?” I repeated, my voice tightening. “Is that what you call this?”

I gestured toward the girl, my restraint beginning to crack.

“Hurting someone like her? Who gave you the right to be so cruel?”

The words came faster now, sharper.

“Or is it because she’s powerless?” I continued, my voice rising despite my effort to keep it steady. “Is that why you think you can treat her however you please?”

Silence followed—heavy, charged.

My heart pounded against my ribs, each beat echoing louder than the last. Anger surged through me, unfamiliar yet intoxicating. It filled the hollow spaces where fear used to live, pushing it aside, demanding to be heard.

Because I understood this.

I understood what it meant to be at the mercy of others.

To have no voice. No choice.

To endure.

And I hated it.

I hated that look in her eyes—the fear, the helplessness, the quiet acceptance of pain as though it were normal.

No one should ever look like that.

Not if I could help it.

Not anymore.

“I won’t allow it,” I said, more to myself than to them, though my voice carried clearly.

Glory’s expression shifted ever so slightly. The amusement faded, replaced by something colder—something sharper.

Her eyes narrowed, studying me as one might study a misbehaving child.

“My lady,” she said, her tone no longer light but edged with warning, “you have only just arrived at this estate. You are unfamiliar with how things are done here.”

She took a slow step forward, her presence pressing against mine.

“Allow me to offer some advice,” she continued. “It would be wise not to involve yourself in matters that do not concern you.”

Her lips curved faintly, though there was no warmth in it.

“Our actions are not without reason. We are acting under authority—the pack mother herself has granted us permission to discipline her.”

The name hit me like a quiet blow.

Joanne.

So this—this cruelty—wasn’t just tolerated.

It was sanctioned.

Allowed.

A bitter taste filled my mouth.

For a fleeting second, I remembered how I had considered apologizing to her earlier. How I had thought perhaps things could be… different.

The thought now felt almost laughable.

Because this proved otherwise.

She was no different.

Just like Michelle.

Just like Father.

Power wrapped in elegance, hiding something far uglier beneath.

My stomach twisted, but this time, I didn’t let it weaken me.

Instead, something inside me hardened.

“I don’t care,” I said.

The words came out quiet—but firm. Unshakable.

Glory blinked, clearly not expecting that response.

“I don’t care who gave you permission,” I continued, lifting my chin slightly. “Leave her alone.”

For a moment, neither of us moved.

The air between us felt tight, suffocating.

Then Glory exhaled slowly, her patience thinning.

“I think you don’t understand—”

“Do you want me to report this to the Alpha?”

I cut her off before she could finish.

My voice was calm now. Steady.

Dangerously so.

The effect was immediate.

Both maids froze.

The shift was almost visible—

Fear.

And in that silence, thick and undeniable…

For the first time, I realized something.

Maybe I didn’t need to be strong the way they were.

Maybe I didn’t need cruelty to hold power.

Because sometimes—

All it took…

Was refusing to stay silent.