The Alpha's Forgotten Mate

Aria’s POV The clatter of dishes and the smell of roasted meat filled the dining hall, wrapping me in a comfort I had always known and for a moment, everything felt normal , my father seated at the head of the table with my mother at his side, and me quietly picking at my food. But peace is fragile. The heavy doors of the hall slammed open, crashing against the stone walls,then two guards stumbled inside, their chests heaving, eyes wide with terror. “Alpha!” one gasped, nearly tripping over his words. “The rogues… they’re approaching the eastern border. There are dozens of them, armed and shifting fast!” The air in the hall shifted instantly. My father, Alpha Alaric Hale, rose from his seat, his chair scraping back with a harsh sound. His eyes darkened, sharp and unyielding. “How close?” “Minutes, Alpha,” the second guard panted. “They’re advancing through the forest. We tried to slow them, but they keep coming.” My mother, Luna Seraphine, pressed a hand to the table, her graceful composure faltering only for a heartbeat. She turned to me, her silver hair falling over her shoulder as she cupped my face in both hands. “Aria,” she said firmly, though I heard the tremor beneath her voice, “you must hide.” “What? No!” My voice cracked, panic seizing my chest. “I can fight, I can help, ” “You have not shifted,” my father cut me off, his tone stern but laced with something heavier, fear. “You are not ready. Do as we say. Hide.” My hands trembled as I gripped the edge of the table. “But what if… ” “No,” my mother snapped, her eyes flashing with Luna authority. Then her voice softened. “Aria, listen to us. Live. That is the only way Shadowfang will survive.” Before I could answer, my father and mother were moving, striding toward the doors with a deadly grace. Their wolves lurked beneath their skin, eager for battle. My father glanced back once, his eyes locking with mine. For the briefest moment, I saw not the fierce Alpha of Shadowfang, but my father, the man who carried me on his shoulders, who taught me to read the stars, who believed I would one day lead. “Hide,” he ordered. Then he was gone. The world outside erupted into chaos. Howls pierced the night, savage and unrelenting. I crept to the window withmy heart hammering in my chest, and what I saw stole the breath from my lungs. The rogues came in waves with wild-eyed, snarling with their bodies covered in blood and dirt. They clashed with our warriors, filling the night with screams and steel. My warriors of our pack fought bravely, but the rogues were endless. For every one that fell, two more seemed to take its place. My father shifted first, his massive silver wolf bursting into the fray. He was magnificent, fast, merciless, a storm of fangs and fury. He tore through the rogues like fire through dry grass, his growls shaking the ground beneath him. Beside him, my mother shifted into her sleek white wolf, graceful and fierce. Together, they fought like the moon and stars in perfect harmony, side by side, back to back. For a moment, hope sparked in my chest. Perhaps they could win. Perhaps Shadowfang would stand. But then suddenly , rogues poured from the forest like a flood, too many to count, too many to fight. My father’s silver coat was streaked with crimson, my mother’s white fur stained dark. They fought with the strength of legends, but even legends can fall. “Mother!” I screamed as a rogue lunged for her throat. She snapped its neck with a vicious twist, but not before another slammed into her side, dragging her to the ground. My father leapt over her, claws flashing, but more rogues swarmed him, biting, tearing fearlessly. I pressed a hand to the window, my nails digging into the stone as tears blurred my vision. “Please… please, no…” My father roared, breaking free, his jaws crushing another rogue’s skull. But even as he stood, blood poured from deep gashes along his flank. My mother staggered to her paws, her chest heaving and her fur matted with blood. I watched, trembling so hard I thought my body would shatter, as the rogue surrounded my parents. My father fought like a storm, my mother like a flame, but the rogues were merciless. One sank its teeth into my father’s throat. As my mother ran toward my father another rogue sank it's teeth into my mother’s side. Their howls tore through the night, through me, ripping my soul apart. “Father! Mother!” My scream cracked, raw and desperate, but it was drowned by the sound of tearing flesh. My father fell first, his silver wolf collapsing in a pool of crimson and my mother fought to reach him, her white fur gleaming faintly under the moon, but her legs gave way. Her body crumpled beside his with her final whimper breaking the last piece of my heart. I sank to the ground, my hands were shaking, my entire body trembling as the truth sank in that my parents, my Alpha and Luna, my protectors, my world, were gone. My breath came in short, sharp bursts as I stared at their bodies. My parents lay still, lifeless, crimson soaking into the earth beneath them. My legs trembled so violently that I thought they might give out, but I couldn’t stay there, not with the rogues prowling over their corpses like vultures. I turned and ran. Branches tore at my arms, roots tripped my feet, but I kept going, choking back sobs. If I stayed, I would die too. If I stayed, their sacrifice would mean nothing. My father’s voice echoed in my mind: Hide. Live. But fate is merciless. A snarl ripped through the darkness and before I could react, something slammed into my back. The ground knocked the air from my lungs, and claws dug into my skin. I screamed, thrashing, but rough hands yanked my arms behind me. “Caught the little pup,” one rogue hissed, his breath hot against my ear. Silver clamped around my wrists, searing instantly. I cried out, the metal burning like fire, eating through my flesh. My veins screamed as though molten iron had replaced my blood. They dragged me through the dirt with my body hitting every stone and every root. My vision blurred with tears, but the pain was relentless. The silver shackles kept me weak with every movement punished by searing agony. When we reached their den, they chained me to the wall. The silver links bit deep into my wrists, blistering the skin. I pulled once, twice, but every tug only carved deeper, until I could smell my own flesh burning. Laughter filled the air. Cruel, mocking, unending. “You thought you could run?” one spat, kicking me in the stomach. The air rushed from my lungs as I doubled over, gagging. Another shoved me upright, pressing the silver harder into my skin. My screams echoed off the stone walls, but they only laughed louder. I don’t know how long it went on. Hours, maybe days. The chains grew heavier and it burns deeper. My throat was raw from crying and my body were trembling from hunger and thirst. Every time my head sagged, a blow snapped me back to pain. I had thought the death of my parents was the worst agony I could ever feel. I was wrong. The rogues stripped me of dignity as easily as they had stripped me of freedom. They wanted me broken, mind, body, and soul. Every insult, every strike, every searing burn of silver drove me closer to the edge. And yet, I lived. I do not know why. Perhaps the Moon Goddess had turned Her face from me, or perhaps She cursed me to endure. But I did not die.