His Hidden Mate

Yara' POV When a werewolf gives birth to twins, it is not seen as a blessing but a curse. Only one can live. The goddess demands balance - one life for another. If the stronger twin does not consume the weaker in the womb, then only one will breathe when born. I should never have been the one to survive. My father reminds me of that every day. To him, I am weak. I stole my brother’s place. Today, I thought I could escape. I did not even make it past the border before the guards caught me. I thrash, kick and claw, but their hands are ironed. My nails tear at their skin, and they do not even flinch. They drag me over gravel and roots, each scrape setting fire across my back and arms. Stones cut into me, dirt fills my mouth, the taste bitter and dry. I choked it down, swallowing my screams. Why stop me? My father hates me. The pack hates me. I am nothing but a shadow of what should have been. If I am worthless to them, then why not let me go? Still, I fight. Still, I resist. But in the end, they flung me forward. My body slams onto the floor, air bursting from my lungs in a strangled gasp. The sound of boots grinding against stone fades behind me, leaving only silence and the pounding of my heart. Blood coats my skin, sharp and metallic in my nose. My arms sting where flesh has been scraped raw. I lift my head, and my chest tightens the moment I see where I am. Not the cells. Worse. My father’s office. The heavy scent of old wood and smoke fills the air. Books tower behind him, dark spines reaching toward the ceiling. But it’s his glare I can’t escape-cold, heavy with disgust. His silence cuts deeper than any whip. Every muscle screams as I crawl to my hands and knees. My body is still broken from the last punishment, and now fresh wounds burn across me. My breath rattles as I force myself up, trembling, facing the man who wishes I had never lived. I don’t make a sound. No groan, no cry, nothing. The rules for me are simple silence. Speak without permission and I’m punished. Stay quiet, and I still might be punished. There are no rules, not really. Only his mood. Gideon Hellfire. My father. His arms fold across his chest, and his gaze drags over me like I’m filth on the floor. I’m his only child, the future alpha in name, but no one in this pack believes it. He would rather burn everything to the ground than let me lead. His eyes hardened. “Pathetic.” One word. Sharp as a blade. “You thought you could run?” His laugh is low, mocking. I keep my head down, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. If I speak, I’ll pay. If I don’t, I still might. His punishments don’t follow reason—sometimes he hurts me just because he can. “This is for existing,” he had roared before, his fists striking. “This one is for stealing your brother’s place.” There’s no winning. No escape. Only survival. The sharp click of his boots echoes closer, each step rattling in my chest. They stopped in front of me. My stomach knots. “Look at me,” he orders. I forced my chin up. His head tilts, tongue clicking in disgust. “You will leave tomorrow,” he says, his voice calm, almost casual. “You’re never coming back.” My stomach plummets. His words hit harder than any strike. I’ve dreaded this day, knowing he kept me alive only until I was useful. I thought I’d have warning—weeks, maybe days. But tomorrow? Tomorrow is the end. This was quick, which means, whoever it is, I won’t like it. “To whom?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. I flinched, bracing for the strike. Silence envelops me. My stomach twists as I wait. Then—“Helter.” No blow came, and suddenly I understood why. My breath catches. Helter. The rogue alpha. His name is a curse whispered in the dark, a warning mothers give their children. A beast without mercy. Strong wolves shudder at the mention of him. And now… I belong to him. My chest tightens. This isn’t about joining packs. I thought he would trade me to strengthen ties, but this? No. This is different. “You’re selling me,” I whisper. It isn’t a question. It’s the truth. His breath leaves him slowly, measured, like I’m wasting his time. “You were never mine to keep.” The words cut deep. Never his to keep? I am his daughter. The one who survived when my brother didn’t. The one chosen by fate. How can he deny even that? He doesn’t explain. He doesn’t care. He just turns and walks out, shutting the door behind him, as if I’m nothing. Silence consumes me. My pulse hammers in my ears, loud enough to drown out my thoughts. My body aches, my skin burns, but the real pain lives in my chest—because my fate is sealed. I thought living here was unbearable. But Helter? That is worse than death. I tried to run. I failed. Now the guards will watch me, every step, every breath, ensuring I’m here tomorrow, delivered to a man crueller than my father. And for the first time, I’m not sure if I’ll survive. As I stand, the guards close in. I want to tell them there’s no need. I won’t run again. But they’d hit me for speaking, and why not? My father gave the whole pack permission. If I open my mouth without leaving, anyone can punish me. They march me back to what they call my room. I call it what it really is, a cell. Bare walls. Splintered wood beneath my feet. No window. No door, either, so the guards can watch me every second. Inside, there’s nothing but a thin mattress and a heap of old clothes I’m not allowed to replace or wash. It’s not mine. It never was. From the start, I was told I couldn’t claim it, couldn’t make it personal. No drawings, no keepsakes, nothing. A cell disguised as a bedroom. I clutched the thin sheet in my throat, trying to calm the unease rising inside me. The guard outside doesn’t look away, his stare heavy and cold. I can’t escape. He knows it. What’s worse? That my father sold me like cattle, or that the man who bought me is the one even warriors fear naming? Helter. His name spread like wildfire at my father’s parties. A rogue alpha without a pack or a kingdom. His army was built from broken rogues, exiles, killers who owed him nothing but follow, anyway. He doesn’t bend to our laws. He makes his own. No one knows where he came from. No one dares ask. They only know his name is whispered like a curse. And tomorrow, I’ll belong to him. No one can be blamed for fearing him. They say Helter has no mercy. He doesn’t bargain, doesn’t ask. He takes what he wants and burns down whatever stands in his way. He’s destroyed pack houses before. If I’m honest, it feels like he’s hunting, searching for something. And that search has left bodies behind. Now I’m his. And there’s nothing I can do. Still, my mind twists around one question: What does my father get? I always thought he’d marry me off to another alpha, strengthen ties, and merge packs. But Helter? He doesn’t attend. He doesn’t help. He only takes. So… did he pay in gold? In blood? My nails dig into my palm as I try to make sense of it. There’s no way he wants me as his wife, not when he could have stronger women, prettier, more useful. This isn’t about marriage. This is a deal. A transaction. My father would never let me go unless he gained something. And Helter? He doesn’t need a Luna. No pack. No kingdom. No alliances to honor. So why me? The truth gnaws at me. It doesn’t matter why. All that matters is that my father wanted me gone. And Helter will pay. That alone should terrify me. He bought me like I was nothing. An object. And nothing good comes from being bought. I press my lips together, forcing my breath to slow. I understand my father’s cruelty, his punishments, his hatred. I know their shape. That predictability was my safety net. But Helter? He’s the unknown. And the unknown is what I fear most. The night drags on, sleep slipping in and out like water through my hands. My mind won’t stop. I keep wondering what Helter looks like. I’ve never seen him. No one here has. My father is making a deal with a man he’s never even met. A sharp knock against the wall makes me flinch. The guard steps inside. “Get up.” I obey without a word. It’s better to move than to earn fresh bruises before being handed over. My ribs ached from yesterday’s punishment, but I pushed myself to my feet and followed him through the pack house. We stop at a door I’ve never been allowed near. It opens. A maid waves me in. The bathroom. Forbidden. She doesn’t waste time. “We have to clean you and make sure you’re presentable for the Alpha. For the wedding.” My eyes caught on the dress hanging on the wall, pale fabric flowing like it belonged to someone else. A stack of folded clothes waits for it. I don’t move. My body locks as she tugs me toward the tub. “Your father wants you to look good," she explains flatly. “He doesn’t want you to represent this pack, but he has no choice. So, you’ll be cleaned, dressed, and given these few items to prove he took care of you.” My lips twitch with a bitter laugh. I don’t let out. Pretend he’s not a monster? That’s a joke. Hot water splashes over me, stinging every scrape. I hiss through my teeth but stay quiet. She scrubs me hard, as if I’m something to be polished and handed off. My old rags hit the floor like trash. The heat on my skin is nothing compared to the shame burning inside me. This isn’t for me. I’m being cleaned to be given away. And I know better than to resist. Defying my father here, in water, would be suicide. If they told him I refused his “kindness,” he’d drown me himself. When I’m dressed, I catch my reflection. My dark hair falls onto my spine in waves. It’s the first time I’ve seen it not tangled and filthy. My green eyes look sharper, my pale skin almost new, as if the dirt of my life has been stripped off. The guards come. Silent halls swallow us as they lead me toward my fate. My chest tightens with every step. I want to scream that I won’t marry him. But I already know the price of refusal. So, I bowed my head and walked on. Hope flickers, but I smother it. Where I’m going isn’t freedom or escape. It’s just another kind of hell.