The Alpha's Forgotten Mate

The Old Building

"Are you sure this is the place?" Lucy's voice echoed through the empty hallway, her tone filled with uncertainty as she glanced around. The walls were cold, the air thick with silence. It felt like they were stepping into a forgotten corner of the world, a place lost to time.

Marcel walked ahead, his long strides measured and confident, though his shoulders remained tense, his eyes scanning every shadow. His hand brushed against the old wooden doorframe as he passed, a subtle gesture, as if he were reminding himself of the significance of the place.

"It's safe," he replied without looking back. His voice was steady, but Lucy could hear the underlying edge. He was on high alert, always. And he wasn’t the only one.

They had arrived at the safe house just as night had fallen, the darkness wrapping around them like a cloak. The journey here had been long, the roads winding, the air filled with the hum of tension. Every turn, every street they passed, seemed to carry the threat of someone watching. Someone waiting for them to slip up.

"Safe?" Lucy repeated, her words laced with doubt. "It feels... too quiet."

Marcel turned to her then, his face serious, though there was a hint of something softer in his gaze, something reassuring. "I know it’s unsettling. But it’s secure. There’s no one who knows about this place. Not anymore."

Lucy wasn’t so sure. The building was old, its stones weathered and cracked from years of neglect. It stood like a forgotten monument, cloaked in secrecy, its past hidden behind the heavy doors and thick stone walls. But Marcel seemed certain, and that was all she had to go on.

"I trust you," she said quietly, her voice wavering slightly, though she tried to sound confident.

Marcel nodded, his expression softening for a brief moment before the weight of his responsibilities settled back onto his shoulders. "You should," he said, his voice firm. "No one can find us here. Not unless they know what they're looking for."

As they stepped deeper into the house, the creaking of the old floorboards echoed beneath their feet, a sound that seemed to belong to the past. The walls were lined with faded portraits of people long gone, their eyes watching them as they passed. It was a strange feeling, like they were intruding on someone else’s history, someone else's story.

"I’m not sure I like this place," Lucy admitted, her words echoing in the dim hall. "It feels like we’re walking into the past. Like we’re walking into danger."

"You are," Marcel replied, his tone dark. "But it’s a danger we can control. For now."

Lucy could feel the weight of his words. The threat that hung over them wasn’t going to disappear, and the shadows they were running from wouldn’t stay hidden for long. The wolves were still out there, their eyes waiting to fall upon them once again. And the worst part? Lucy couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get worse.

As they reached the living room, Marcel motioned for Lucy to sit on the old leather couch. "Sit," he urged, his voice softening. "I need to check the perimeter. Stay here, and don’t open the door for anyone. Understand?"

Lucy nodded, her stomach twisting into knots. There was a hardness in his voice that she had never heard before, and it unsettled her. She didn’t know exactly what he was preparing for, but she knew one thing: it was coming. The storm was on the horizon, and they were caught in its path.

"Be careful," she called out to him as he moved toward the door, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Marcel paused and glanced back at her, his eyes locking with hers. For a fleeting moment, there was a vulnerability in his gaze, a fleeting glimpse of the man he used to be, the one who didn’t have to live in constant fear. But then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by the cold, calculating Alpha she had come to know.

"I always am," he said, his voice low.

The door closed behind him with a soft click, and Lucy was left alone in the dimly lit room. The silence pressed in on her, thick and suffocating, making it hard to breathe. Her mind raced, running through every possibility, every scenario. What would happen if they found them? What would happen if Marcel couldn’t protect them?

She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. Worrying wouldn’t do any good. She needed to focus on what she could control. She could trust Marcel. She had to. He had always taken care of her. He had always protected her, even when she didn’t know the dangers lurking in the shadows.

And yet, as the hours passed and the night deepened, she couldn’t help but feel the unease in her bones. Marcel had left with such a sense of urgency, as if there was something he wasn’t telling her. Something bigger than the wolves, something that she couldn’t quite grasp.

Then, a sudden noise from the hallway broke the stillness, a faint knock at the door. Lucy froze, her heart skipping a beat. The knock came again, louder this time, sharp against the silence.

She stood slowly, her feet almost unwilling to move, her body tense. She glanced toward the door, every instinct telling her to open it, to see who was there. But another voice in her head warned her to stay back, to wait for Marcel.

With trembling hands, she reached for the doorknob. Her fingers brushed against it, and for a moment, she considered calling out to Marcel. But the knock came again, faster, more insistent this time.

"Lucy?" a voice called through the door, and she recognized it immediately.

"Jeremy?" she breathed, her heart racing in her chest. She hadn’t heard from him since the wedding, and she hadn’t expected him to show up here. Why would he?

"Lucy, open the door," Jeremy’s voice was urgent, low. "It’s me. I need to talk to you."

She hesitated for a moment longer, her mind spinning with confusion. Why would he be here? What could he possibly want?

But before she could open the door, she heard Marcel’s voice from the hallway, his tone sharp and commanding.

"Stay away from the door, Lucy."

Lucy turned, her breath catching in her throat. Marcel stood there, his face a mask of fury, his body tense and ready for anything. She hadn’t even heard him approach.

"Marcel, what’s going on?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the unease growing inside her.

Marcel’s eyes flicked toward the door, his gaze hardening. "Don’t open it," he ordered, his voice low. "We’re not alone. We need to be careful."

Lucy nodded, stepping away from the door, her heart pounding in her chest. The room suddenly felt smaller, as if the walls were closing in on her. She couldn’t explain why, but something about the situation felt wrong, dangerously wrong.

And the worst part? She had no idea who they could trust anymore.