The Alpha King's Secret Healer

3- I Changed My Mind

I didn’t know how long I’d been walking.

My feet ached. My knees shook with every step. The back of my gown had ripped somewhere between the street corner and the park bench I collapsed on. The hem dragged in puddles and dirt.

My shoes? I’d lost them miles ago. I barely remembered kicking them off when walking. Just that my toes stung with each crack in the pavement.

The city around me didn’t care.

People passed by. Some glanced once. Others twice.

A few stopped to whisper. I caught one of them pointing—not even trying to hide it.

“Isn’t that the Cade girl?”

“No… it can’t be—wait, it is. Mira Cade. The Alpha’s mad daughter.”

I heard them.

I wished I hadn’t.

I turned my face away, hoping the shadows would blur me out, make me invisible. But I couldn’t hide what I looked like.

The expensive dress clinging to my skin. The tangled bun falling loose. The streaks of makeup smudged down my cheeks like proof that whatever dignity I had left had been washed off somewhere between heartbreak and humiliation.

I curled into myself on the bench, clutching my torn dress at the sides like it would somehow hold me together.

I hated this life.

I hated that I was an omega with no wolf and scent.

I was like a human in werewolf territory. I hated that even my own kind saw me as defective. That I had to be quiet, polite, soft, perfect—when none of it was enough.

I hated that my father’s business had blown up and turned us into something we never were. That power had made him cruel. That success gave him the right to put a price tag on my future and wrap it in silk and shame.

I hated that I couldn’t even cry in public without someone calling me mad.

I hated that…Callum…broke my heart.

The sobs came hard, my shoulders shook and my throat burned. I gasped between cries, trying to pull myself back, but the pain didn’t care. It had waited too long to come out, and now it was flooding everything.

I cried for Callum.

For the wolf I never got to meet.

I cried for the girl I used to be—before I was dressed up and paraded, before my heart broke in someone else’s bedroom, before the King sat across from me like I was nothing more than a bargaining chip.

When the tears dried, I didn’t feel better. I just felt empty.

The sun was already down. The city lights buzzed quietly in the distance. Somewhere, people were laughing, living their lives. Somewhere, someone was warm. Safe. Held.

But not me.

I stood on shaky legs, swaying slightly as I caught my breath. The bench left damp marks on the back of my gown. My toes were caked in dirt. My feet ached like I’d run a marathon barefoot.

But I kept walking.

I didn’t stop when my legs started to cramp. I didn’t stop when a passing driver slowed down to stare. I didn’t stop when my stomach growled loud enough to echo in my ribs.

I walked until I saw the gates.

The Cade mansion stood tall and gleaming under the moonlight. It looked like the kind of house you could live in without ever feeling at home.

The guards recognized me but didn’t say anything. Just opened the gate like a door they were tired of watching.

I stepped onto the marble path, my bare feet leaving faint tracks behind me. The stones were cold. So cold they bit into my skin, but I didn’t flinch.

By the time I reached the front doors, my body had stopped registering pain.

The door creaked open. One of the maids—someone new, I think—gasped when she saw me.

She rushed to grab a towel, whispering something under her breath as she offered it. I didn’t take it. I couldn’t move my hands anymore. They hung limp by my sides.

She hovered like she wanted to help. I stared at the floor.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Their movement fast.

My mother appeared.

Her heels clicked against the marble like a warning bell. Her robe was cinched tightly around her waist. Her hair was perfect, as always. Her face, unreadable—until her eyes landed on me.

They narrowed.

“You look like a disgrace,” she snapped.

I didn’t answer.

“You’re an embarrassment,” she hissed, stepping forward. “Walking around the city looking like a madwoman—do you want to undo everything your father has built? Do you know how disgraceful it was to receive calls and photos of you looking disgusting? Not only did you speak rude to the alpha king, you still went out there and made a fool of yourself.”

Her hand rose before I saw it landing straight to my right cheek.

The slap wasn’t hard. But it stung.

The kind of sting that didn’t stay on the skin. I didn’t cry.

I just looked at her.

At her perfect posture. Her tight lips. The woman who spent her entire life molding daughters like sculptures, and still ended up with one who cracked too easily.

“I’ll do it,” I whispered.

She blinked. “What?”

“I’ll marry him.” My voice shook. “I’ll marry the Lycan King.”

The silence that followed stretched too long.

My mother’s eyes flicked to the torn hem of my dress, then to my bare feet. She stared at me as if she was half expecting me to take back my words.

Somewhere in the hallway, the grandfather clock ticked too loudly.

The maid behind me held her breath. But I stayed where I was. And I didn’t take the words back.

My mother’s expression twitched, the corners of her mouth struggling between disbelief and satisfaction.

She looked me over again—barefoot, makeup ruined, gown torn—and for once, she didn’t seem to know what to say.

“Why?” she asked finally.

“I changed my mind.” The words came flat and cold. The same way they always came from her.

Before she could speak again, footsteps echoed behind her. Heavy. Slower than hers. Measured like a man who never rushed for anyone.

My father stepped into view, still in his indoor suit. The scent of wine clung to him.

He stopped beside her, squinting slightly when he saw me.

“What happened?” he asked, though it didn’t sound like concern. He looked at me like I was a product returned in poor condition. “Why is this haggard human here?”

“I said I’ll marry him.”

My voice was clear now. I looked directly at him.

He tilted his head slightly. “Why the sudden change?”

“I ended things with Callum.”

His brows lifted. Slowly. Then the smile came, he grinned from ear to ear.

“Good,” he said. “See? This is what I’ve been saying. Obedience looks good on you.”

I felt something twist in my stomach, but I didn’t flinch. I didn’t speak.

“There’s nothing quite like an obedient daughter,” he went on, as if I were no longer there. “One that finally understands where she belongs. You’ll thank me someday.”

I said nothing.

“The kings had left already,” he added, waving his hand like the matter was settled. “But tomorrow, you’ll leave for Lycan territory. You have done well Mira.”

My expression didn't change as I said, “As you wish Father.”