The Alpha’s Hidden Mate

The first time Talia heard that she was going to be sent away, she was scrubbing Lord Redmayne’s blood from the kitchen floor. “You’re taking too long.” Talia flinched. The cloth slipped from her fingers as Lady Marcy Redmayne entered the kitchen, her cream silk gown whispering against the marble. “I’m sorry, my lady.” “You’re always sorry.” Marcy glanced at the bloodstained water. “Perhaps if you had a wolf, you might possess enough sense to do something properly.” Talia lowered her eyes. At twenty-two, she had learned that answering insults only made them last longer. “What happens to me after tonight?” she asked quietly. Marcy’s smile disappeared. “Tonight, Alpha Damon Voss will finalize our marriage agreement. Once I become his Luna, my father will have no reason to keep useless servants around.” Talia’s stomach tightened. “You mean—” “I mean you should start worrying about where you’ll end up.” Marcy leaned closer. “I heard Father discussing you with another pack leader. Apparently, someone needs additional servants. You might be useful to him.” Useful. The word made Talia feel sick. She had heard stories about Omegas traded between packs to settle debts and secure alliances. She had always hoped her inability to shift would make her too insignificant to bargain over. She had been wrong. “Please, my lady. I can work harder.” “Did I ask you to beg?” “No, my lady.” “Then finish cleaning. And when Alpha Voss arrives, keep your eyes down. I won’t have you embarrassing me in front of my future husband.” Marcy left without another word. Talia stared at the blood on the marble. She needed to leave Redmayne territory before someone decided where she would spend the rest of her life. But first, she needed money. A place to go. A way to survive outside the only household she had known since childhood. She had none of those things. All she had was a dream of living somewhere near the sea, where nobody knew her name and no one could lock her in a room. It seemed impossibly distant. Still, it was hers. “Talia!” Mrs. Hallow called from the doorway. “The wine cellar. Now.” Talia hurried to obey. The cellar smelled of damp stone and old wine. Talia was placing the final bottle in a wooden crate when voices drifted down the stairs. “Everything must be settled before midnight,” Lord Redmayne said. Another man answered. “And the girl?” Talia froze. “She’ll be gone before Voss realizes she was ever here.” Her fingers tightened around the bottle. “What if she remembers?” “She was a child.” “Children remember strange things.” A silence followed. Then Lord Redmayne spoke again. “If she remembers anything, she must never be allowed to speak.” Talia’s heart began to pound. Remember what? A bottle pressed against her elbow and struck the shelf. The sound was small, but both men stopped talking. “Who’s there?” Lord Redmayne demanded. Talia ducked behind a stack of barrels. Footsteps descended. “Come out.” A hand seized her arm and dragged her into the open. Lord Redmayne stared at her. His expression changed when he recognized her. “How much did you hear?” “Nothing, my lord.” “Don’t lie to me.” “I only came for the wine.” He studied her face as though searching for something buried beneath her skin. Then he asked a question that made her blood run cold. “Do you remember the night your parents died?” Talia stopped breathing. Her parents had died in a fire when she was twelve. That was what she had always been told. She remembered smoke, a dark room, and someone shouting, but the memories were broken and blurred. “Why are you asking me that?” she whispered. Lord Redmayne’s jaw tightened. “Take her upstairs.” “My lord, please—” “Lock her in the attic. No food. No visitors. She stays there until I decide what to do with her.” The stranger dragged her toward the stairs. Talia struggled, but his grip only tightened. For the first time in years, she understood something terrifying. Lord Redmayne wasn’t merely tired of keeping her. He was afraid of what she might remember. The attic door slammed behind her. Talia stumbled in the darkness and caught herself against an old trunk. She hurried to the window, rubbing her aching wrist. Below, black vehicles swept into the courtyard. Servants rushed to greet the arriving guests. Guards straightened, and Lord Redmayne descended the front steps with a smile that looked painfully forced. The Alpha had arrived. Damon Voss stepped from the first vehicle, dressed in black. Even from the attic, Talia could see the authority in his posture. Then he paused. He turned his head toward the upper floors. Toward her window. Talia stepped back. Impossible. He couldn’t possibly see her through the curtains. Yet a strange warmth stirred beneath her ribs, so unfamiliar that she pressed a hand against her chest. She had never felt anything like it. Outside, Damon Voss went rigid. A scent had reached him through the evening air—faint, sweet, and unlike anything he had encountered before. His wolf, silent for months, surged awake. Mate. Damon’s expression hardened. He had come to Redmayne territory to secure a political alliance, not to discover the woman his wolf had chosen. He looked toward the attic window again. “Who is she?” he asked. Lord Redmayne’s smile faltered. And Damon noticed.