The Alpha's Mafia Boss Wolfless Bride.

Freya's POV I kept my chin high as I followed the others into the trees. The forest around our pack territory usually smelled of pine and damp earth, but today, the air felt heavier. Every sideways glance from the wolves around me reminded me that I didn't belong. I was the only one in the Alpha's family who had never shifted. Everyone knew it. I saw it in the way they looked at me, then quickly looked away. I squared my shoulders and matched their pace. I needed this hunt. I needed to prove I could still contribute, even if I had to do it on two legs. “Keep up, Freya,” someone called from ahead. “Don't lag behind like usual.” I ignored him and kept walking. A few younger pack members whispered behind me. Their voices carried through the quiet forest. “Why does she even come?” “She can't shift. What's the point?” “Alpha's daughter or not, she's still wolfless.” My jaw tightened, but I refused to turn around. Instead, I focused on the path ahead and the crunch of boots and paws against the underbrush. The morning air cooled my face as I walked. I'd trained for this. I'd spent countless mornings alone, punching trees until my knuckles hurt and running the trails until my lungs burned. I wasn't helpless. I just needed a chance to prove it. Erik fell into step beside me. “You don't have to prove anything today,” he said quietly. I glanced at him. “Yes, I do.” “You're already here. That's enough.” “It's never enough.” I returned my attention to the trees. “You know that.” He didn't argue. He simply stayed beside me, and for a moment, the tension in my chest eased. Then Yelena's voice cut through the quiet. “Look who decided to join the real wolves.” She walked a few paces ahead, her dark hair pulled back, her steps light and confident. “Trying to pretend you belong again?” I met her gaze. “I'm here to hunt. Same as you.” She gave me a sharp, cold smile. “Hunt? With what? Your fists? Cute.” A couple of pack members snickered. I kept walking, my hands curling into fists at my sides. I knew better than to respond. Experience had taught me that giving Yelena a reaction only encouraged her. We spread out among the trees, searching for signs of deer. The others moved with the easy confidence of wolves who knew exactly what they were capable of. I stayed near the edge of the group, watching for movement and listening for anything unusual. My heartbeat remained steady. I could do this. I could still be useful. Then the atmosphere changed. A low growl rolled through the forest. It wasn't one of ours. “Rival pack!” someone shouted. Chaos erupted. Bodies shifted around me. Bones cracked, fur burst through skin, and within seconds, the wolves I'd been walking beside were on four legs, their teeth bared for battle. I remained human. Snarls and growls tore through the trees as fear tightened my chest. I watched every member of our hunting party transform, including those who had mocked me only moments earlier. Even Yelena dropped to all fours, her sleek wolf poised to attack. Erik shifted too, his powerful wolf ready for the fight. And I stood there, unchanged. Nobody looked at me. Nobody expected me to do anything. I was the wolfless one, the broken one who was supposed to stay behind and let the real wolves handle things. I refused. Before doubt could stop me, I stepped into the fight. A rival wolf lunged at one of our younger pack members. I snatched a thick branch from the ground and swung with all my strength. The wood cracked against its shoulder. The wolf snarled and turned on me. I dodged its first lunge and struck again. My arms ached from the impact, but I kept moving. “Freya, get back!” someone yelled. I ignored the warning. Another rival came at me from the side. I ducked beneath its claws and drove my elbow into its ribs. Pain shot up my arm, but the wolf staggered. I took advantage of the opening, kicking its front leg hard enough to send it stumbling. Around me, the forest had become a battlefield. The sharp scent of blood mingled with the pine as bodies collided and claws tore through the undergrowth. I moved between the fighting wolves, relying on everything I'd taught myself in secret. Dodge. Strike. Keep moving. My breath came fast, my fists throbbed, and my muscles screamed with every movement. I pushed through it all. A packmate turned toward me, his wolfish growl carrying over the noise. “You're going to get yourself killed!” I didn't answer. A rival tried to circle behind me. I spun and drove my knee into its side. It snapped at my leg, forcing me to jump back just before its teeth could catch me. Claws sliced through empty air. My heart hammered against my ribs. Fear was there, sharp and undeniable, but I refused to let it control me. I wouldn't stand aside and watch while everyone else fought. I wouldn't be the helpless spectator they expected me to be. Another rival charged. This one was bigger than the others. I dropped low, rolled out of its path, and came up with a rock in my hand. I hurled it at the wolf's face. It snarled and charged again, but this time, I met it head-on. Grabbing a handful of fur, I twisted my body and used its momentum to throw it off balance. We crashed to the ground. I scrambled free and kicked it away before it could recover. “She’s actually fighting,” someone muttered nearby. I didn't look to see who had spoken. I couldn't afford the distraction. More rivals poured through the trees. Our pack held its ground, but the fight grew increasingly chaotic. Bodies slammed into tree trunks, and snarls gave way to pained howls. My arms trembled, and sweat trickled down my back. Yet every move reminded me of those mornings I'd spent training alone, when nobody believed I was worth the effort. I'd prepared for years for a chance to prove myself. I wasn't about to waste it. Then one of the rival wolves locked eyes with me. It was larger than the others, its dark fur matted with dirt. Unlike the wolves fighting around it, this one seemed focused on a single target. Me. It broke away from the main fight and stalked toward me. My stomach dropped. I raised my fists. “Come on, then.” The wolf lunged. I dodged left, but it was faster than I expected. Its claws raked across my shoulder, sending a burst of pain through my arm. I stumbled but managed to stay upright, swinging a hard punch into its side. The impact jolted my arm. The wolf barely reacted. It circled me, its eyes fixed on mine, its head lowered. I turned with it, careful not to let it get behind me. My breath burned in my chest, and my arms were already aching from the earlier blows. Still, I refused to back down. The wolf feinted to the right. I fell for it and moved the wrong way. It slammed into me. We hit the ground hard, its weight crushing the air from my lungs. Before I could recover, its jaws snapped inches from my face. I jammed my forearm against its throat and pushed with everything I had. It was too strong. My arms shook as I struggled to hold it back. My vision began to blur around the edges. Desperation kicked in. I drove my knee upward, catching the wolf in the belly. Its weight shifted just enough for me to roll free. I scrambled to my feet, gasping for air. Blood trickled down my arm from the gash on my shoulder, but I barely registered it. The wolf came at me again. This time, I ducked beneath its swipe and rammed my shoulder into its side. We staggered apart. I followed with a series of short, hard punches aimed at the same spot, hoping to weaken it before it could strike again. It snarled and snapped at me. One of its claws caught my side. Pain ripped through me. I bit back a cry and stumbled away, pressing a hand against the fresh wound. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat. Every movement took more effort than the last. My legs burned, and my strength was fading. But I still had a choice. I could run, or I could keep fighting. I chose to fight. The wolf gathered itself for another charge. Its muscles tensed beneath its matted fur, and its head lowered as it prepared to attack. I braced myself. Something slammed into me from the side. I crashed to the ground, the impact sending pain shooting through my ribs. The air rushed from my lungs, leaving me gasping. For a moment, I couldn't move. Then I rolled onto my side and struggled to breathe. Yelena stood over me in human form, her chest heaving and a cut marking her arm. A few feet away, the rival wolf snarled as two of our pack members held it back. Yelena looked down at me, her voice loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. “Still can't shift, Wolfless? Still useless when it actually matters?” Her words hurt more than the wound in my side. Erik was already beside me, human again. He knelt and carefully examined the injury. “Freya, stay still. Let me see.” I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain stopped me. “I'm fine.” “No, you're not.” His voice tightened as he pressed a cloth against my side. “You're bleeding.” Yelena remained where she was, watching us with a small, satisfied smile. “I had to push her out of the way. She would've gotten herself killed.” She shook her head. “Some Alpha's daughter. Can't even defend herself without someone rescuing her.” A few pack members who had finished dealing with the remaining rivals glanced in our direction. Not one of them spoke up for me. Erik kept pressure on my wound, his jaw clenched. “That's enough, Yelena.”