The Mafia’s Howl — The Alpha’s Forbidden Daughter

I can’t breathe. Cold, unyielding hands clamp down on my throat, choking the air from my lungs. My eyes flutter open, panic surging like a tidal wave, and there she is. My mother. Straddling me on the bed, her eyes bloodshot and burning with a fury that isn’t hers. Her irises, usually a warm hazel, glow an unnatural shade, almost golden, as if something primal and ancient has awakened inside her. The same delicate hands that once soothed me now strangle me with ruthless strength. Pain sears through my neck, air slips away, and I claw at her arms, scratching her skin in desperation. I buck my hips to the side, rolling hard, and she tumbles onto the mattress beside me. A ragged cough tears from my chest as I gasp for breath. My senses, always sharper than normal, a constant reminder of the secret running in my blood, catch the metallic tang of her sweat mixed with blood. It turns my stomach. I don’t waste time. I scramble from the bed, stumbling across the cold floor, dragging myself away from her. I should have been smarter, should’ve jammed a chair under the door, not just turned the lock. She thrashes behind me, and I knock over the nightstand in my rush. The lamp shatters, shards scattering across the floor. Heart pounding in my ears, I crawl toward the door. Beneath the thunder of panic, I pick up faint footsteps and voices downstairs, the guards. A reminder I’m not completely alone. I lurch to my feet and bolt through the doorway, nearly tripping over the banister as I reach the staircase. Where are my brothers? They were supposed to be watching her room tonight. Father’s been gone on a mission for five days, and Niger was in charge of keeping me safe. Heavy footsteps pound behind me, she’s coming. Every creak of the wooden stairs seems amplified in my ears, my senses on overdrive. I stumble down the steps, panic tightening my chest. I need help. Scott should be outside the house. Maybe Ulises too. One of them has to save me. I try to scream, but my throat burns, my voice barely a rasp. At the bottom step, I glance back. She’s there, scissors in her hand, the blades catching the faint light. Fifteen years now. Fifteen birthdays I’ve spent running from my own mother before she kills me. I love her so much, on every other day she’s perfect. But the rage and trauma of what was done to her fifteen years ago never let her go, no matter how many pills or doctors. The hunters, those monsters disguised as ordinary men, tortured her, shattered something deep in her wolf soul. And now, every year, when my birthday collides with the full moon’s ancestral pull, she snaps. Her suppressed instincts rise, and she turns on me, ike her body’s twisted way of “protecting” the bloodline I carry by trying to erase me. It’s irrational, savage… but it’s the price of our secret. Tears blur my vision, but I force my legs to keep moving. If I have to, I’ll fight her, though the thought of harming her fragile body guts me. Just one day of madness for three hundred and sixty-four of love. I have to endure it. I have to be strong. for her, even when she hates me. Especially today. The day I dread the most. My birthday. A celebration I’ve never truly had, not with the weight of the Ancestral Wolf running through my veins, a rare, pure lineage that grants me faster healing and heightened senses, but one that must remain hidden, smothered by the suppressants my father has forced on me since I was a child. I shove open the mansion door and see Scott talking to another guard. My voice cracks into a hoarse shout as I run toward them, and Scott’s strong arms pull me in. The other man draws his gun, aiming at her. “Don’t hurt her!” I scream, voice breaking. “Put it down!” “Miss Valentine,” Scott says firmly, pulling me behind him. “Stay back. I’ll restrain your mother. Go upstairs and grab her medication.” “Please, be careful,” I beg, my throat raw. “Yes, ma’am.” My mother bursts through the doorway, eyes wild, hazel flaring yellow, bloodshot with rage. Her brown hair, a mess like mine, clings to her sweat-damp skin. The scissors flash in her hand, sharp and deadly. Scott reacts fast, twisting her wrist, pinning her to his chest, forcing her back inside. I sprint to Father’s office, punching the code into the lock. My shaking hands snatch the key from his desk, unlock the cabinet, and grab the syringe, the one mixed with sedatives and wolf suppressants. Racing down the stairs, I nearly fall, gripping the rail for balance. Her scream rips through the house, shattering me. I hate when she uses words, those cut deeper than claws. “You cursed child! I should’ve aborted you! Damn your blood!” Tears stream down her face as she thrashes against Scott. “You’ll destroy us all with that pure lineage!” The words stab straight into my chest. Scott holds her down on the sofa. My trembling fingers pop the cap off the syringe, and I plunge it into her arm. The effect is instant. Her furious eyes flutter shut, still locked on me until the very last moment. “Take her upstairs,” I whisper to Scott. “And you, find my brothers,” I order the other guard. It didn’t take long for the truth to leak through the walls of the Valentine mansion. Father eventually ordered all guards to handle her crises with care. No one was ever to harm her, or let her harm me. They know about the pack, about the Tanorra mafia’s carefully kept façade to shield our kind from human hunters. But only my immediate family knows the truth of my bloodline, that I am something rarer, more dangerous. I collapse onto the sofa, hands trembling, my throat throbbing with bruises. Curling into myself, I hug my knees tight. I’m too afraid to return to my room, too afraid she might wake early. Even knowing the dose will keep her out until morning. My chest aches from being hated by the person I love most. It would almost be easier if she hated me every day, at least then I wouldn’t still crave her love, still dream of the moment she might smile again and whisper “Happy birthday” without malice. I know it isn’t her fault. It’s mine, for being born, for carrying this cursed blood that tore her apart. Three hundred sixty-four days of tenderness, one day of hatred. One day where her suppressed wolf tries to kill me in some twisted attempt to protect the pack. Hunters would s*******r me if they ever discovered what I am, the pure-blooded Ancestral Wolf. Boston’s dissident pack would claim me as breeding stock to strengthen their diluted lines. I can’t keep dreaming of a future where she loves me whole again, not when reality is this cruel. “Rose.” Niger’s voice snaps me back. I lift my head to see him stumbling down the stairs in his pajamas, his steps unsteady, his eyes unfocused. Realization hits, she drugged him. That’s why he wasn’t at my door. He drops beside me and pulls me into his warm embrace. He looks like Father, messy dark hair, the same green eyes as mine. His natural strength as a Valentine wolf dimmed tonight by whatever she slipped him. “I’m sorry,” he mutters sluggishly. “She… she did something to me and Steve.” “I was so scared, Niger,” I confess, burying my face against his chest, sobbing. “I woke up and she was strangling me.” “Forgive me.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. Time blurs. We stay curled together on the couch, his arms around me, whispering that everything will be alright. When the first rays of sunlight creep into the mansion, our housekeeper enters carrying a tray with two cups and a pot of tea. The scent of calming herbs, laced with a hint of suppressant, fills the air. “Drink this. It will help,” she says gently. “Thank you, Mrs. Kriper.” My hands shake as I take the cup. The exhaustion, the anxiety, the fear of being killed by my own mother, it frays every nerve. I drink quickly, then a second cup. Niger strokes my back in silence. My cheek rests on his shoulder. He scoops me up and carries me to his room, laying me down with my head on his chest. Today will be long. Despite everything that happened before dawn, I still have to face my fifteenth birthday celebration, where, for the first time, I’ll be introduced to the society of the Tanorra Mafia. The wolves in disguise who rule the underworld. Lost in thoughts of what already happened, and what’s still to come, I finally drift into sleep.