Unmated by Fate

CHAPTER 4: ALPHA ALICIA

The room was quiet now and everywhere seemed calm.

The fire had dimmed to embers, casting long shadows across the wooden walls. Luke was gone, vanished into the night with nothing but a promise in his eyes. And Marcus stood by the window, arms crossed, jaw clenched tight, like he was holding back a storm.

I wish Luke had pushed back or had fought for us, but something tells me he agrees with Marcus that something had changed the moment he touched me.

I pulled on my cloak, the silence between us louder than a roar.

“Why are you angry, Marcus?” I asked, finally breaking it. I did not see anything in a man wanting a beautiful woman like me.

He turned slowly, his eyes sharp, haunted. “You don’t know?”

I raised my brow, waiting in amazement as I had no clue as to what he was trying to say.

He took a step closer. “Alpha Lucious sent his son here to conquer, Alicia, and not to fall in love. He’ll never accept you as anything more than a temporary thrill, - -you--,” he exhaled bitterly, “—you should know better."

My stomach twisted, but I didn’t let it show.

Marcus’s voice grew cold. “Lucious already had plans. He’s promised Luke to royalty. A union that binds empires. You think he’ll trade that for an alliance with an Outlander or an Alpha who rose from blood and ash?”

I stared at him, unmoved. “So that’s it?” I said. “No matter what I’ve done. No matter what I’ve become… they’ll never let me sit at their table or see me as an equal.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

“The Capital,” he muttered, “will never have an Outlander seat at the Lords’ Table by marriage or by any means. Not through you. Not ever.”

The words struck deep, colder than any blade.

But I only smiled, it was slow and dangerous.

“Then I won’t sit at their table,” I said, voice low and steady. “I’ll burn it down and build my own.”

Marcus didn’t respond. But I saw it in his eyes, a form of fear and the reluctant feeling of respect.

The wind howled through the cracks in the wooden walls, but inside, it was my voice that tore through the silence.

I could not wrap my thoughts around the idea that Marcus thought less of me, too.

“You think I’m in love with Luke?” I spat, standing tall before Marcus, still half-dressed from the chaos of the night, firelight dancing across my face like flames in a war camp. “The same Luke whose father butchered mine just to steal a crown he never earned?”

Marcus's mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“I was ten, Marcus.” My voice cracked, but only for a second. “Ten years old, hiding under a table soaked in blood while Lucious’s wolves tore through our home. I watched them drag my father’s body like a trophy. And you stand here… questioning my loyalty?”

He stepped toward me, his tone hardened. “It’s not about loyalty. It’s about what you’re doing. What you’re risking. You say you don’t love him, then what was all that? What was that kiss? That weakness?”

I laughed darkly, stepping closer. “Weakness?” I hissed. “You think I would give my heart to the spawn of the man who burned my life to ashes? That kiss was a strategy. Seduction. Manipulation, just like Lucious taught his wolves. I can play that game too.”

I sincerely did think I seduced him because I still wanted to feel him inside of me.

Marcus’s jaw clenched. His eyes flickered. He had plans, I saw it. Plans that didn’t include me kissing Luke or taking power on my terms.

“I will never be their pawn,” I said coldly. "I don’t want a seat at their table. I want to tear it apart. Break every leg and burn the wood until it’s nothing but ash, my ash, to honour my father.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he growled. “There are things in motion you can't stop.”

I stepped into his space, my voice deadly calm.

“Then they’ll burn with me.”

Marcus recoiled, as if seeing me for the first time, not as a girl from the Outlands, not even as an Alpha, but as a force. And in that moment, I knew: he was afraid.

Not of Lucious. Not of Luke. But of me.

I was not an Outlander. No, I was never one. It was Marcus who escaped with me to this gods-forsaken place.

My father had a seat at the Round Table, and so do I, the only living kin of my clan.

“You need to rethink what you are saying. You got no plan, only rage, and that is not good for either of us,” he breathed out.

Sameer’s heavy knock rumbled through the wooden door like thunder. Before I could respond, he stepped in with the looming presence of a mountain. The giant of a man bowed slightly, his voice gruff yet oddly respectful.

“It is time, Alpha,” he said. “The ritual awaits.”

Marcus and I turned to him. The title still echoed strangely in my ears, Alpha. Not a warrior. Not an Outlander rebel. Alpha of the Giant Claw Pack.

Sameer’s sharp eyes scanned the room, lingering a moment too long on Marcus’s clenched fists. “What were you discussing?” he asked.

I raised a brow. “That is none of your business.”

There was a beat of silence. Tension sparked in the air like flint to steel. Sameer’s lips curled slightly, not in anger but in unexpected respect. He bowed deeper this time. “Forgive me, Alpha. I will wait outside for you to prepare.”

He stepped back and closed the door with the gentleness of a servant, not the brute of war I had once faced with Gat in the pit. I stood frozen for a moment, staring at the door, at the power it now represented. That’s when it hit me, they bowed to me. They listened. They waited. I had authority.

But before I could take a step, Marcus grabbed my arm.

“Don’t do this,” he said, his voice low, urgent. "Alicia, don’t let them crown you Alpha. You’re not one of them, you’re not like them. You’re a warrior. A leader, yes, but not this kind of leader.”

I yanked my arm free.

“Why?” I asked. “Because I’m a woman? Or because I refuse to take orders from men like Lucious? Like you?”

“That’s not it,” he snapped. "I’ve seen what happens to those who take that seat. The Alpha title in the Outlands comes with blood. With curses. With sacrifices, you’re not ready for.”

“I’ve bled,” I said. “I’ve sacrificed. And I will not settle for less than what I’ve earned. Not for your comfort. Not for the traditions of dead men.”

He shook his head, desperation flashing in his eyes. “You don’t understand the enemies you’re about to make.”

I stepped toward him, eyes blazing.

“Then they’ll learn who I have become the hard way.”

I turned my back and reached for my armour, the iron-lined vestment of my new reign. As I dressed, I could still feel his stare, full of fear, not for me, but of what I was becoming.

“You better fix your door,” I said, trying to lighten up his mood.

“You are not my Alpha,” he replied.

I smiled and shook my head. “But I am Alpha.”

“I am your father, too,” Marcus said in a low, defeated voice.

I turned my head around and looked at him with a kind smile. “You are my father too,” I said gently, almost like a whisper.

When I stepped out into the light, Sameer bowed once more. But this time, the ground seemed to bow with him, and so did fate.

The fire from the ritual still burned in the pit, casting a wild, wavy glow across the stone chamber. My skin still tingled from the sacred markings, the chants, the blood.

They had called me Alpha, and they meant it. The Giant Claw Pack, fierce, proud, the largest and strongest in the Outlands, stood around me, their eyes lit with something I hadn’t seen in the Outlanders before.

It was Hope. Though I wonder why, because I was a woman and not a giant.

The air was filled with energy as the new council formed. They were eager, hungry for change. One by one, they brought forward concerns, land disputes, stolen trade, and gang rivalries.

I listened, I answered, and I commanded.

Then all of a sudden, all that changed.

Zeth, Gat’s younger brother, rose from the back of the circle. His youth was masked by a jagged scar that ran down the side of his face, and his eyes burned with reckless fire.

“It’s time,” he said, loud enough to silence the murmurs. “The Outlands are no longer fractured. We are united. We have numbers. We have strength. And we have you, Alpha.”

All eyes turned to me.

Zeth stepped forward. “The Lords of the Capital have spat on us for too long. They treat us like dirt, like beasts. Now the beasts have teeth. I say we use them.”

“Say what you mean,” I told him, my voice calm but sharp.

He smiled. “I say we attack the Capital. We take the throne. We burn the Lion banner to ash. The Giant Claw Pack will lead the charge, and the rest will follow.”

A silence fell. Heavy. Crushing.

Sameer shifted behind me. His hand instinctively went to his blade.

I stood slowly, gaze locked on Zeth. “You want war.”

Zeth tilted his head. “I want justice. I want revenge. And so do they.” He motioned to the others. Some nodded. Others remained still, uncertain. The fire crackled louder, as if listening.

I looked at each of them. “And what happens when we fail? And when the Capital unleashes its beasts? And when Alpha Lucious sends his armies? Do you think they’ll show mercy to the Outlanders?”

Zeth smirked. “We have no mercy. That’s why we’ll win.”

The circle rumbled with murmurs. A few, in agreement. Some stepped back in doubt. My heart thundered, not in fear, but in the weight of leadership. This was what it meant to put on the Alpha title.

I thought about Luke and what would happen to him or whether he was still in the Outlands and could be i danger of the very men I ought to lead.

I stepped into the firelight, my voice steel.

“Be careful, Zeth. The line between bravery and madness is thin, and right now, you're dancing on it.”

Zeth didn't flinch. “And you, Alpha... will you lead us? Or stand aside while the fire goes out?”