Claimed By My Enemy Alpha

His hand struck my face so hard my vision went white. I gasped, my head whipping to the side as blood filled my mouth. The metallic tang coated my tongue, but I didn’t cry. I’d learned long ago, tears only made it worse. “You disgusting little wretch!” my father snarled, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my head back so hard my neck cracked. “Feeding the prisoners now? What are you, their little savior? Pathetic!” “I—I was just trying to—” His boot slammed into my ribs, stealing the breath from my lungs. I crumpled to the floor, gagging, my hands still bound behind my back. Pain bloomed in waves, sharp and hot, as I fought to suck in air. “You what? Thought I wouldn’t find out?” he spat, towering over me. “I gave you shelter, blood, a name, and you repay me by feeding those caged scum?!” I wanted to speak. To say it wasn’t betrayal, just mercy. But there was no point. Not with him. My father wasn’t a man. He was a monster dressed in skin, and I was just the mistake he couldn’t kill fast enough. He knelt beside me, shoving my face into the cold floor. “You are nothing. A shame to your bloodline! I should have ended you the day you were bor—” “Alpha! We’re under atta—!” The guard’s voice cut in, panicked. But it was too late. His body slammed into the wall beside us, blood spraying across the stone. His neck had been snapped before the last word left his lips. The storm wasn’t the only thing breaking in tonight. I looked up, barely a second before lightning ripped the sky apart, lighting up the woods outside like a warzone. And there they were. Wolves. Dozens. Charging in like death had finally come collecting. My father let out a savage snarl and snatched a fistful of my hair, yanking me off the ground like I weighed nothing. Then, without a word, he hurled me straight at the door like I was bait. His bones cracked mid-motion as he shifted, fur tearing through his skin in an explosion of rage. One breath later, he was gone, his massive wolf form smashing through the back door like a cowering ram. I didn’t have time to think. Two bodies tackled me from opposite sides, arms like iron vices locking around me as I kicked and screamed. The shock burned off fast and terror took its place. “Restrain her,” a voice snapped, low, cold, absolutely in command. The gruff voice snapped my attention. I looked up but the speaker was already gone, streaking after my father with a snarl that promised death. I didn’t have time to think as I was yanked through the splintered door, my feet dragging through blood and mud as I kicked wildly. “No! Let me g-go!” I thrashed like a mad thing. My shoulder split open as claws tore through my skin, one pressing to my throat, daring me to scream again. Then a howl ripped the night apart. We all froze. In the clearing, wolves emerged from the darkness, circling two beasts locked in combat. My father and the black wolf. This was it. My last glimpse of him alive. The black wolf moved without precision but with a feral grace in every strike. The power rolling off him was suffocating. This was what my father had slaughtered entire families trying to steal. And it wasn’t enough. The final blow came fast. A sickening crack. Then silence. My father collapsed in a broken heap. Dead. A roar split the sky. The black wolf—an Alpha—threw his head back in victory. His pack joined in, the sound shaking the trees, rattling the bones in my body. And for the first time in years, something inside me twitched. My wolf. No. No, no, no, not now. I shoved her down, hard. She whimpered, but I didn’t have time to soothe her. I could feel eyes on me. The alpha shifted and without a word, he grabbed my father’s corpse by the scruff and dragged it to my feet. I immediately averted my eyes, keeping them glued to the ground. “I am Troy Ryker, Alpha of the Wolfspire Pack. Confirm that the dead wolf is Ragor Thane.” I didn’t raise my head. “It is.” There wasn’t a single note of sadness in my voice. I didn’t expect there to be. There was no joy either. Or relief. I hadn’t felt those emotions in years, and my father’s death was only a small victory. It wouldn’t erase the years of torture I had endured. This was barely a dent in what I’d survived. “You’re not his mate.” I said nothing, which only seemed to enrage him further. He growled, stepping closer. “Who are you?” “Kiana,” I whispered. “His…daughter.” “Age?” “Twenty.” “Where are the captives?” “There’s a small wooden container behind the hut. Fifteen feet back. Trap door under the rock. They're all inside.” “Find them,” Troy roared, turning to his guards. “Now!” He turned back to me, his fury hot. “Look at me,” he snarled. I didn't move. Couldn't. "Look. At. Me." His voice was a growl, vicious and snapping. "Your father butchered packs. Stole lives like they were nothing. Tell me, were you his little accomplice? Did you help him?” It took some effort, and I had to fight my wolf every second, but I lifted my gaze to his. Lightning buzzed the sky again, and he took one step back in surprise as our eyes connected. Inside me, my wolf howled in joy as something seemed to snap in place. Fuck. Me. Heat shot through my veins like wildfire, crawling under my skin, branding every nerve with his presence. He stood tall—too tall, like the universe made him to tower over anything that dared oppose him. Dark hair clung to his shoulders, wild and damp from the storm, and intense dark eyes stared at me in shock. I’d never given much thought to heroes. As a child, I’d daydream that someone would come save me, from all the pain, the torture. But those were just flaccid dreams. But here he was. My hero, and according to my wolf, my mate. “s**t,” the man holding me growled. And I realized that all the wolves had felt their alpha’s mating bond. They were stepping back in horror. “Answer the question,” Troy demanded hoarsely. Reality slammed back in place. Inside me, my wolf wailed. She was innocent. Always had been. I gave everything to protect her. For the first time in years, tears pricked my eyes “Yes,” I said, voice steady. “I’ve killed.” The guard shoved me to my knees, but I didn’t look away. I needed to see Troy's eyes. “Even the stench of death is cleaner than the stink of this bond,” he snarled. “I’d rather bite off my own tongue than speak the word ‘mate’ with you in mind.” His eyes scorched through me, full of revulsion so sharp it stripped the air from my lungs. I swallowed hard, the shame clinging to my throat like thorns. There was nothing left to say. No strength. No pride. Just the cruel, echoing reminder that even fate thought I was unworthy. “Tonight. I, Troy Ryker, Alpha of the Wolfspire Pack, reject you.”