Claimed by the Ruthless Alpha

Chapter 1

The attic was cold, smelling of dust and old, rotting wood. It was the only place I had to call my own in the massive, stone-built pack house of the Northern Shadows. As an orphan and an Omega, I didn’t get a bed with soft sheets or a room with a heater. I got a thin mat on the floor and the sounds of the wind whistling through the cracks in the roof.

Tonight was my eighteenth birthday. For any other werewolf, this was a night of celebration. It was the night you shifted for the first time. It was the night you finally heard the voice of your wolf in your head. It was the night you could finally find your fated mate.

But for me, Elara, it felt like a death sentence.

In the Northern Shadows Pack, Omegas were treated worse than dirt. We were the servants, the ones who cleaned the mud off the warriors' boots and ate the scraps left over from the Alpha’s table. I had no mother to guide me through my first shift. I had no father to stand guard while I transitioned. I was alone, clutching my stomach as a dull, throbbing ache began to pulse in my marrow.

"Please," I whispered to the empty room, my voice shaking. "Please let it be quick."

The clock on the wall ticked toward midnight. Every second felt like a heartbeat. Then, the clock struck twelve.

Pain like I had never known exploded in my spine. It wasn’t a dull ache anymore. It felt like someone had taken a hammer to my ribs and started smashing them one by one. I fell from my mat onto the hard wooden floor, a scream tearing from my throat.

*Crack.*

That was the sound of my arm breaking. But it wasn't an injury; it was the change. My bones were shortening and lengthening, reshaping themselves into something else. My skin felt like it was on fire, stretching until I thought it would burst.

*I am here,* a voice whispered in my mind. It was deep, melodic, and powerful. It didn't sound like a weak Omega wolf. It sounded like a storm. *Do not fight it, Elara. Let me out.*

"It hurts," I gasped, my fingernails clawing at the floorboards, leaving deep grooves in the wood.

The heat inside me grew. I felt hair sprouting from my skin—thick, silver-white fur that shimmered even in the dark. My jaw elongated, my teeth sharpening into fangs. The pain was so intense that my vision blurred into streaks of black. I shifted. I shifted again. My body was a chaotic mess of human and wolf, caught in the middle of a violent birth.

Finally, with one last, agonizing snap of my neck, the transition was complete.

I stood on four paws. I felt tall—much taller than an Omega should be. My senses were suddenly dialed to a thousand. I could hear the heartbeat of a mouse three floors below. I could smell the pine needles in the forest miles away. But mostly, I could smell the pack house. It smelled of sweat, meat, and the oppressive scent of dominant males.

And then, a new scent hit me.

It was the smell of dark chocolate, winter frost, and expensive cedarwood. It was a scent so intoxicating that it made my new wolf howl deep inside my chest. It was a scent that commanded absolute submission, yet promised a fire that could burn the world down.

*MATE.*

The word echoed in my head, shouted by my wolf. My heart hammered against my ribs. I had a mate. Someone out there was made for me. For a split second, a spark of hope lit up my miserable life. Maybe my mate would take me away from this attic. Maybe he would love me.

But that hope died the moment I heard the heavy thud of boots on the stairs.

The door to the attic was kicked open with such force that it flew off its hinges. Standing in the doorway was a man who looked like he had been carved out of darkness.

Alpha Kael Blackthorn.

He was the ruler of the Northern Packs. He was known as the "Black King" because of his cruelty in war and his lack of mercy. He was tall, with shoulders so broad they blocked out the light from the hallway. His hair was black as a raven’s wing, and his eyes—usually a piercing, cold blue—were currently glowing a dangerous, molten gold.

His wolf was at the surface.

He stepped into the small, cramped room, his presence making the ceiling feel lower. He looked down at me, and for a moment, the air left the room. The bond snapped into place like a chain locking our souls together. It was a golden thread of light that only we could see, connecting my heart to his.

I let out a small, submissive whimper, tucking my tail between my legs. I was a wolf now, but I was still the girl who had been beaten and starved.

Kael’s nostrils flared as he took in my scent. His expression didn't soften. He didn't rush to me. Instead, his lip curled into a sneer of pure disgust.

"You?" he spat. The word was a weapon.

I shifted back. The change from wolf to human was just as painful, leaving me curled on the floor, naked and shivering, trying to cover myself with the scraps of my torn dress. I looked up at him, my eyes wide and watering.

"Alpha," I whispered, my voice raw.

"You are my mate?" Kael took a step closer, his heavy boot stopping inches from my hand. He looked at me like I was a cockroach he wanted to crush. "I was told my mate would be a woman of power. A Luna who could stand by my side and lead an army. Instead, the moon gives me a pathetic, starving Omega."