The Alpha’s Hated Mate

Chapter 3

The first rule of survival was simple.

Never stay in one place long enough for someone to find you.

The second was even more important.

Never trust a man who offered kindness too easily.

And the third?

Never, under any circumstances, let anyone discover what you were hiding.

Twenty-one-year-old Elowen Hart had spent the past six years learning those rules the hard way.

She followed them now as she made her way through the dense woodland, keeping to the shadows and avoiding the narrow trails used by travellers.

Her boots were worn through at the soles. Her jacket had a tear along the right sleeve, and the small pack slung over her shoulder contained little more than a change of clothes, a knife, and a handful of supplies she’d managed to gather before leaving her last shelter.

She was hungry.

Exhausted.

And painfully aware that the weather was turning.

Dark clouds gathered above the treetops, threatening rain before nightfall.

Elowen glanced towards the sky.

“Wonderful,” she muttered. “Because today couldn’t possibly get any worse.”

Her stomach growled.

She ignored it.

Hunger was familiar. So was exhaustion. Neither frightened her nearly as much as the possibility that someone might be following her.

She stopped beside a fallen tree and listened.

Nothing.

No footsteps.

No voices.

No distant howl.

Just the whisper of wind through the branches.

Elowen let out a slow breath.

Perhaps she’d finally managed to put enough distance between herself and the last settlement.

Perhaps, for once, she could rest without waking to the sound of someone searching for her.

The thought was almost enough to make her smile.

Almost.

She had learned not to trust good fortune.

It had a nasty habit of disappearing just when she needed it most.

⸻

Elowen hadn’t always been a rogue.

There had been a time when she’d possessed a home, a family, and a place within a pack.

There had been a time when she’d believed that if she worked hard enough, kept her head down, and tried not to anger the people around her, everything might eventually get better.

That belief had cost her years of her life.

Her father, Alaric Hart, had been a respected wolf within his pack.

Respected by everyone who knew him.

Feared by the daughter who lived beneath his roof.

To the outside world, Alaric was disciplined, hardworking, and fiercely loyal to his Alpha. He never missed a pack gathering. He volunteered for patrols and offered assistance whenever another family needed help.

People praised him.

They trusted him.

They spoke of his daughter as though she were fortunate to have such a devoted father.

They had no idea what happened behind closed doors.

Elowen learned early that the truth rarely mattered when the person hurting you was more powerful than you were.

When she was a child, she believed the shouting was her fault.

When she grew older, she began to understand that nothing she did could make her father a kinder man.

If she spoke, she was disrespectful.

If she remained silent, she was deliberately ignoring him.

If she cried, she was weak.

If she refused to cry, she was trying to provoke him.

There was no winning.

There was only learning how to survive the next day.

Her mother had tried to protect her once.

Elowen still remembered the sound of her mother’s voice as she begged Alaric to stop.

She remembered the sudden silence that followed.

And she remembered the conversation they had shared later that night, when her mother sat beside her bed and brushed the hair away from her forehead.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Those three words had been repeated so many times that eventually they lost their meaning.

Elowen hadn’t needed an apology.

She had needed someone to make it stop.

No one had.

By the time she was fifteen, she had stopped asking for help.

By sixteen, she had stopped believing anyone would come.

And by seventeen, she had finally understood that if she wanted a different life, she would have to find a way to leave.

So she did.

She ran with nothing but the clothes on her back and a determination she hadn’t known she possessed.

She left the pack that had watched her grow up.

She left the people who had mistaken her silence for obedience.

She left the only home she’d ever known.

And she became a rogue.

Not because she hated packs.

Not because she wanted to hurt anyone.

But because returning to the life she’d escaped would have destroyed whatever remained of her.

She had never regretted leaving.

She regretted only that it had taken her so long.

⸻

A distant rumble of thunder brought Elowen back to the present.

She shifted her pack higher on her shoulder and continued walking.

The forest grew denser as she travelled west. She’d heard there was an abandoned hunting cabin somewhere beyond the ridge, a place where travellers occasionally sheltered when the weather turned bad.

She had no idea whether the information was accurate.

But she had nowhere else to go.

After another hour of walking, she found a narrow track leading uphill.

She followed it cautiously.

The scent of wet earth grew stronger, and the first raindrops began to fall through the canopy.

Elowen pulled her hood over her head.

“Come on,” she whispered to herself. “Just a little farther.”

Her left ankle throbbed.

She’d twisted it two days earlier while scrambling down a rocky slope, and the injury hadn’t improved with the miles she’d forced herself to walk.

She knew she should stop.

She knew she should rest.

But stopping meant remaining exposed, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone might be looking for her.

She pushed onwards.

By the time she reached the ridge, the rain had become a steady downpour.

Elowen paused beneath a cluster of trees and surveyed the land below.

There.

A small wooden structure stood between the pines, its roof sagging and one shutter hanging crookedly from its hinges.

The cabin.

Relief swept through her so intensely that she nearly laughed.

She descended the slope carefully, wincing whenever her ankle twisted beneath her weight.

When she reached the cabin, she circled it once before approaching the door.

The wood was weathered.

The windows were grimy.

No smoke rose from the chimney, and she couldn’t detect any fresh scents around the entrance.

It appeared abandoned.

Still, she waited.

She had learned that appearances could be deceiving.

After several minutes, she eased the door open.

The hinges groaned.

Inside, the cabin smelled of dust, damp wood, and old ashes. A narrow bed stood against one wall, its mattress covered in a thin layer of dirt. Beside it sat a small table and a rusted stove.

It wasn’t much.

But it was shelter.

Elowen stepped inside and shut the door.

For the first time that day, she allowed herself to relax.

She lowered her pack onto the floor and sank onto the edge of the bed.

Pain pulsed through her ankle.

She removed her boot and examined the swelling, pressing her lips together as she tested how much weight she could place on it.

Not good.

She needed to stay off it for at least a day.

The thought frightened her more than she wanted to admit.

A day without moving meant a day in which she couldn’t put distance between herself and danger.

But she couldn’t keep going like this.

Not without food.

Not without sleep.

And certainly not with an injured ankle.

Elowen leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.

Just an hour, she promised herself.

One hour of rest.

Then she’d work out what to do next.

⸻

She woke to the sound of a twig snapping outside.

Elowen sat bolt upright.

For several seconds, she didn’t move.

Her heart hammered against her ribs.

Another sound followed.

A footstep.

Then another.

Someone was approaching the cabin.

Her body reacted before her mind could catch up.

She scrambled off the bed, nearly collapsing when her injured ankle took her weight.

Pain shot up her leg.

She swallowed the cry that rose in her throat.

The footsteps stopped outside the door.

Silence.

Elowen stared at the entrance.

Perhaps it was an animal.

Perhaps someone was simply passing through.

Perhaps—

A fist struck the door.

She flinched.

“Open up!”

The voice was male.

Unfamiliar.

Her blood ran cold.

“Who’s there?” she called, forcing her voice to remain steady.

“Someone who wants a word with you.”

Elowen backed away.

“I think you’ve got the wrong cabin.”

A low chuckle came from outside.

“Don’t think so, sweetheart.”

The endearment made her stomach twist.

She knew that tone.

She had heard it before, from men who believed a woman’s fear was an invitation to push harder.

“Open the door,” the man repeated.

“No.”

The answer escaped before she could stop it.

Silence followed.

Then the handle began to turn.

Elowen’s breath caught.

She’d wedged a broken chair beneath it when she’d arrived, but she hadn’t expected anyone to try to enter.

The wood creaked.

The chair shifted.

“Open the damn door!”

She stumbled backwards, searching the room for something she could use to defend herself.

Her fingers closed around the rusted poker beside the stove.

It was heavier than she’d expected.

She tightened her grip.

The door shuddered beneath another blow.

“Last chance!”

Elowen’s heart pounded so violently that she could barely hear anything else.

She was tired.

Injured.

Hungry.

And there was nowhere to run.

For one terrible moment, she was seventeen again, standing in the hallway of her childhood home while her father shouted from the other side of a locked door.

She could almost smell the familiar scent of his whiskey.

Almost hear her mother’s frightened whispers.

Please, sweetheart. Just do what he says.

Elowen squeezed her eyes shut.

No.

Not again.

She had survived that house.

She had survived the years that followed.

She would not let another man take away her freedom.

The door burst inward.

The chair splintered beneath it.

A broad-shouldered man stepped into the cabin, rain dripping from his hair and jacket. His eyes travelled over Elowen, lingering on the poker in her hands.

His mouth twisted into a smile.

“Well,” he said. “Looks like the little rogue has teeth.”

Elowen raised the poker.

“Get out.”

The man laughed.

“You don’t get to give me orders.”

“Try me.”

His smile faded.

For a moment, neither moved.

Then he stepped forward.

Elowen swung.

The poker struck his forearm with a dull c***k.

He cursed and stumbled sideways.

She didn’t wait to see whether she’d hurt him.

She bolted towards the open doorway.

Her injured ankle buckled.

She hit the ground hard, pain exploding through her leg.

Before she could scramble upright, the man caught the back of her jacket and dragged her backwards.

“YOU LITTLE—”

Elowen kicked, twisted, and clawed at his hands.

“Let me go!”

He slammed her against the cabin wall.

The impact drove the air from her lungs.

Her head struck the timber.

For a moment, the room tilted.

The man seized her wrist and wrenched the poker from her grasp, throwing it across the floor.

“Should’ve stayed quiet,” he snarled.

Elowen’s vision blurred.

She knew what came next.

She knew the signs.

The anger in his face.

The tightening of his grip.

The terrible certainty that whatever happened, he would blame her for it.

She stopped struggling.

Not because she’d surrendered.

Because she needed to think.

She watched his shoulders.

Measured the distance to the door.

Waited for the moment his attention shifted.

When it did, she drove her knee into his thigh.

He swore.

His grip loosened.

Elowen twisted free and stumbled through the doorway.

Rain struck her face.

She ran.

Her ankle screamed with every step, but she kept moving, crashing through the undergrowth as branches whipped against her skin.

Behind her, the man shouted.

She heard him following.

A growl tore from his throat.

Elowen’s wolf surged beneath her skin, frightened and restless.

She could shift.

She could run faster on four legs.

But her ankle—

She stumbled over a root and fell hard onto her hands.

The man was getting closer.

She could hear him crashing through the trees.

Elowen forced herself upright.

She wasn’t going to die in these woods.

She wasn’t going to let another man decide what happened to her.

She pushed forward.

And then, from somewhere ahead, came the sound of a horse.

Hooves struck the muddy ground.

A rider emerged between the trees.

Elowen froze.

The man chasing her stopped, too.

For one brief moment, neither of them spoke.

The rider sat astride a powerful black horse, his dark clothing soaked by the rain. He looked down at Elowen, then shifted his gaze towards the man behind her.

His expression was unreadable.

But something about his presence changed the atmosphere.

The man who had chased her took a step backwards.

“Alpha,” he said quickly.

Elowen’s blood turned to ice.

An Alpha.

Of all the wolves she could have encountered, she’d stumbled into the path of an Alpha.

The rider dismounted.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and moved with the controlled precision of a man who had never needed to hurry to make others obey him.

His gaze returned to Elowen.

It travelled over her torn jacket, her muddy clothes, and the blood running from a cut above her eyebrow.

Then his nostrils flared.

His expression changed.

Elowen recognised the moment he caught her scent.

The disgust was immediate.

“Rogue,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

Elowen swallowed.

“Yes.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Name.”

She hesitated.

The man behind her shifted uneasily.

The Alpha took one step closer.

“I won’t ask twice.”

Elowen lifted her chin, though every instinct screamed at her to look away.

“Elowen.”

He stared at her.

Then his gaze dropped briefly to her injured ankle.

“Why are you on Blackthorn land?”

“I didn’t know it was Blackthorn land.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“It’s the only one I have.”

His expression hardened.

Behind her, the man who had chased her cleared his throat.

“Alpha, I found her in the old cabin. She attacked me when I tried to speak with her.”

Elowen’s stomach twisted.

“That’s not what happened.”

The Alpha didn’t look at her.

“Silence.”

The single word struck with the force of a blow.

Elowen went still.

For one terrible second, she couldn’t breathe.

She knew that voice.

Not the man.

Not the Alpha.

The tone.

The absolute certainty that he had the right to decide whether she could speak.

She lowered her gaze.

The movement was instinctive, an old habit her body remembered even when her mind wanted to fight it.

The Alpha noticed.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

But whatever question crossed his mind disappeared almost immediately.

“You’re a rogue trespassing on my territory,” he said. “And you’ve assaulted one of my pack members.”

“He broke into the cabin!”

The words burst from her before fear could stop them.

The Alpha’s expression turned glacial.

“Are you calling one of my wolves a liar?”

Elowen looked from him to the man behind her.

The man was already wearing an expression of injured innocence.

She understood then.

It didn’t matter what she’d say.

The Alpha had already decided what she was.

A rogue.

An outsider.

A problem to be dealt with.

Elowen tightened her fingers around the strap of her pack.

“I’m not looking for trouble,” she said quietly. “I only needed somewhere to shelter from the rain.”

“Then you should have chosen somewhere outside my territory.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Now you do.”

He turned to the man behind her.

“Take her to the packhouse.”

Elowen’s head snapped up.

“What?”

“You’ll be questioned about why you’re here.”

“No.”

The word was barely more than a whisper.

The Alpha’s eyes returned to hers.

“What did you say?”

Elowen’s pulse thundered.

Every instinct told her to obey.

To lower her head.

To let them take her wherever they wanted.

To survive now and find a way out later.

But she knew what happened when powerful men gained control over her.

She had spent years escaping that kind of captivity.

“I’m not going with him,” she said.

The Alpha stared at her as though she’d just committed an unforgivable offence.

“You don’t have a choice.”

Elowen looked at the man who had broken into the cabin.

Then at the Alpha.

Two men.

Both convinced that their authority mattered more than her fear.

She could almost hear her father’s voice.

You don’t get to tell me no.

Something inside her trembled.

But she didn’t move.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.”

The Alpha’s jaw tightened.

“That remains to be seen.”

He stepped closer, and Elowen found herself looking up at a man who seemed to embody everything she’d spent her life trying to escape.

Power.

Authority.

Absolute certainty.

“Take her,” he ordered.

The man seized her arm.

Elowen flinched.

The Alpha saw it.

For the briefest moment, something flickered in his expression.

Surprise, perhaps.

Or irritation.

Then it vanished.

“Bring her to the packhouse,” he repeated. “I’ll decide what to do with her there.”

Elowen’s heart sank.

She had spent six years surviving on her own.

Six years learning how to disappear.

Six years convincing herself that no one would ever have the power to hurt her like that again.

And now she was being dragged towards a packhouse by a man who believed her word meant nothing.

She glanced at the Alpha.

He was already turning away.

He didn’t look back.

He didn’t ask why she was alone.

He didn’t ask about the blood on her face or the way she struggled to put weight on her injured ankle.

He saw only a rogue.

And in his world, that was enough.

Elowen swallowed the tears burning behind her eyes.

She would not cry in front of them.

She would not beg.

And whatever waited for her inside the Blackthorn packhouse, she would find a way to survive it.

She always did.

What Elowen didn’t know was that the man who had just ordered her taken into custody was Kael Varyn, the future Alpha who had spent ten years hunting wolves like her.

She didn’t know about the eleven boys who had died in the forest.

She didn’t know about the scars hidden beneath his clothing.

And she certainly didn’t know that the Moon Goddess had already chosen him for her.

For now, all she knew was that she’d escaped one dangerous man only to fall into the hands of another.

And the look in the Alpha’s eyes told her that, as far as he was concerned, she was guilty before she’d even had the chance to defend herself.

Neither of them knew that this meeting would change the course of their lives.

And neither was prepared for what would happen when hatred collided with fate.