Alpha’s Mistress

Chapter 3

Elara’s POV

A day passed.

My lungs burned as I stumbled through the thick forest, every breath a rasp against my throat. The ground blurred under my bare feet, and every step felt heavier than the last. My body screamed at me to stop, but I couldn’t. I had been running for more than a day and a half, shifting in and out of wolf form until my legs shook so badly I thought they would give out.

The Knightfall Pack had probably already sent out their message to every pack across the region. By now, the rumor would be spreading: Elara, the weakling maid, the rejected mate, had run. They would brand me a coward. A traitor. Maybe worse.

I clenched my teeth against the lump in my throat. I refused to cry. Not here. Not now.

But when the scent changed around me..I realized with a jolt that I had crossed into new territory. My heart slammed against my ribs. This wasn’t Knightfall’s land anymore.

It was Red Moon territory.

The stories of this pack had reached even the lowliest corners of Knightfall. Ruthless fighters. Silent assassins. The kind of wolves other packs whispered about but didn’t dare provoke. If Knightfall was cruel in the open, Red Moon was the kind of cruel that moved in shadows.

And now I was right in the middle of their hunting grounds.

The shift of air behind me confirmed what my exhausted body had already suspected—I wasn’t alone. At least three scents pressed closer, circling, and the faint crunch of leaves under steady paws told me they had been trailing me for a while. I knew I couldn’t outrun them. My legs trembled violently, and every muscle in my wolf form screamed in protest.

So I made a choice.

I shifted back into human form, tugging on the thin spare clothes I had tied around my waist. My throat was so dry it felt like sand scraped against it with every swallow. I scanned quickly for high ground and climbed up into the nearest oak, forcing my shaking arms to haul me branch by branch until I found a perch high above. I crouched there, pressing my back against the trunk, willing my pounding heartbeat to quiet.

They arrived moments later. Three young males, dark hair and sharp eyes, their movements calculated and predatory. Their voices cut through the quiet forest.

“We know you’re here,” one of them called, his voice sharp. “You can’t hide from us.”

The second sniffed the air, his lips curling in a sneer. “The scent is fresh. She’s close.”

The third didn’t bother to speak—his eyes swept the ground with quiet calculation before darting upward. His lips curved into a cold smirk.

“There,” he said, pointing at me. “Up in the tree.”

My stomach twisted. I pressed my back harder against the bark, refusing to move.

One of them stepped forward, his tone suddenly shifting to something smoother, almost coaxing. “It’s all right. We won’t hurt you. What’s your name?”

I stared back, silent. My lips parted, but no sound came out. My throat was cracked with thirst. Instead, I pointed to my neck and mimed drinking, my hands shaking slightly.

“She’s dehydrated,” the gentler one muttered to his companion.

The hostile one snorted. “Or she’s pretending. Spies love excuses.”

Before I could even try to respond, the gentler one glanced at the third tracker. “Go. Get the Alpha.”

The third nodded once and melted back into the forest, silent as smoke.

I stayed crouched in the tree, muscles tense, while the two remaining males stared up at me.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” the first one asked.

I just held his gaze, silent still.

Then, footsteps..heavier, deliberate, commanding. The forest seemed to hush around them. The third tracker returned, and beside him walked a man who carried himself like authority was second nature.

The Alpha.

He stepped into the clearing, broad-shouldered, his dark eyes taking everything in with one swift sweep. His presence was colder than Dante’s ever was. Where Dante had been cruel in arrogance, this Alpha radiated control. Power, leashed tight, but dangerous all the same.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice calm but edged with steel.

“She’s dehydrated,” the first tracker explained quickly. “That’s why she didn’t run.”

The Alpha tilted his head, his eyes locking on me. “Come down from there.”

I shook my head.

“Why not?” he asked, tone sharper now.

I looked briefly toward the first two trackers, silently pleading for help. The gentler one muttered under his breath, “She’s scared. And she can’t speak. Too dry.”

The Alpha studied me a moment longer, then said, “Very well. If you won’t come down, I’ll come up and get you myself.”

I lifted one shoulder in a shrug. I didn’t care. If Destiny, my wolf, didn’t sense danger in him, maybe I shouldn’t either. Finally, I raised both hands in surrender and began the slow climb down, my movements stiff and cautious.

When my feet touched the ground, I stayed tense, eyes darting between them.

“What pack are you from?” the Alpha asked. His voice was steady, but there was no warmth in it. “And why are you trespassing on my land?”

I only stared back at him. My silence earned a low growl from the hostile tracker.

“She’s mocking you, Alpha.”

I pointed again to my throat. The Alpha narrowed his eyes, then gave a small nod. “Bring her to the doctor.”

The gentler one stepped closer, motioning for me to follow. “Come on. It’ll be fine.”

I hesitated, then followed. What choice did I have?

As we moved deeper into Red Moon territory, wolves watched us from the shadows. Their eyes followed me with suspicion, but none of them spat at me, none of them whispered insults like Knightfall would have. That alone unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.

We reached the pack house, a looming structure of dark stone and timber. Inside, the pack doctor wasted no time. He pressed a glass of water into my hands, and I drank until my throat stopped burning. The relief was so overwhelming I sighed aloud.

“That feels better,” I murmured, my voice scratchy but working again.

The Alpha stood across from me, arms folded. “Good. Now answer my questions.”

I swallowed hard, lowering the glass. “My name is Elara. My wolf has black fur and red eyes. I came from the Knightfall Pack.”

The words tumbled out faster now, bitterness sharpening them. “I was nothing there. A maid. Trash. My mate, Dante—the future Alpha—rejected me.” My voice cracked, and I dropped my gaze.

The room was silent for a moment. Then the Alpha spoke, tone flat. “Convenient story.”

My head snapped up. “It’s the truth.”

“Or it’s exactly what a spy would say to win pity.”

My stomach lurched. “I’m not a spy. Knightfall would never waste the effort to send me anywhere. They hated me. I was nothing to them.”

The hostile tracker stepped forward, sneering. “That doesn’t mean we should trust you.”

My temper finally sparked. “Then don’t trust me,” I snapped. My voice shook, but the fire in it was real. “But don’t call me a liar.”

The room went tense. For the first time, the Alpha’s eyes sharpened with interest, as though measuring me in a new way.

At length, he said, “You will remain here, under guard. Until your story is verified, you’re not one of us. If you lie, you die. If you prove yourself, you may stay.”

A chill rolled down my spine, but beneath it was something else. Relief. This was the first time someone hadn’t dismissed me outright. The first time someone had given me… a chance.

The doctor stepped closer, his voice gentler. “You need food. Rest. Let’s see what strength you have when you recover.”

As I ate in silence, my eyes drifted around the Red Moon pack house. No mockery. No disdain. Just sharp stares and suspicion. It was strange—strange enough that I didn’t know if it comforted me or frightened me more.

That night, as I lay in a bed far softer than the hard floor I’d grown used to in Knightfall, I whispered into the dark.

“I have a pack now. Or at least, the possibility of one. But Red Moon isn’t a place of mercy. It’s a place where only the strong survive. And I am done being weak.”