The Alpha's Unwanted mate

Amara Bennett was not going. She'd already said it three times, ignored six phone calls, and left her aunt on read twice. So why the hell was somebody still banging on her bedroom door like the house was on fire? "Amara! Open this damn door!" She looked up from her phone. "Girl, I'm getting dressed!" "You been getting dressed for the last forty-five minutes!" "Then clearly I need another forty-five!" A loud sigh came from the other side. "Don't start with me today." Amara rolled her eyes and went back to scrolling. Tonight was the annual gathering at Blackthorn Estate, and apparently everybody in the damn region was expected to show up, smile, bow their heads and act like they didn't spend the other eleven months plotting against each other. She had absolutely no interest. Especially not in spending an evening surrounded by people who looked at her like she was some unfortunate family secret. She tossed her phone onto the bed and glanced at the dress hanging from her closet door. Black, fitted, and short enough to make her aunt complain. Perfect. A few minutes later, she stepped out of her bedroom. Lydia Bennett stood in the hallway with her arms folded. Her eyes travelled from Amara's curls to her dress, then down to her shoes. "That's what you're wearing?" "Here we go." "Amara, I'm serious." "So am I. You asked me to get dressed. I got dressed. What's the issue?" "The issue is that we're representing this family tonight." Amara reached for her purse. "Then you should've let the family pick out my outfit." "Can you go one night without having an attitude?" "Can you go one night without finding something to complain about?" Lydia's mouth tightened. There it was. That look. The one that said Amara was being difficult again. That she was ungrateful. That she didn't understand how much people had done for her. Amara knew the whole speech by heart. She'd been hearing it since she was old enough to understand that her existence made certain people uncomfortable. "Your uncle's waiting downstairs," Lydia finally said. "Great. Let's not keep the man waiting." Amara walked past her. Downstairs, the Bennett family was gathered around the front entrance. Her uncle Raymond was checking his watch, while her cousin Nia stood beside the mirror fixing her lip gloss. Nia looked Amara up and down. "Okay, girl. I see you." "Thank you. Somebody in this house got sense." Nia laughed. "Don't gas her up. She already think she all that." "Because I am." "See? This why nobody likes you." Amara grabbed her coat from the rack. "Yet here you are, still talking to me." Raymond cleared his throat. "Y'all done?" "She started it," Nia said. "Of course I did," Amara muttered. Her uncle opened the front door. "Come on. We got a long drive." Amara stepped outside, and the cold air hit her face. She pulled her coat tighter and followed the others toward the black SUV parked in the driveway. She already hated tonight. And they hadn't even left the damn house. The drive to Blackthorn Estate took almost an hour. Amara spent most of it looking out the window, watching the city lights disappear behind stretches of trees and private property. The farther they drove, the bigger the houses became. Long driveways, security gates, expensive cars. Money everywhere. Power everywhere. And everybody acting like they didn't know exactly who had it. Blackthorn Pack was different from the smaller packs scattered across the East Coast. They weren't just wealthy. They had influence. Businesses, properties, politicians, connections that reached places most wolves didn't even know existed. And at the centre of it all was Khalil King. The Alpha. Amara had never met him, but she'd heard enough stories to last a lifetime. Some people called him ruthless. Others called him brilliant. Her uncle called him a man you didn't want to owe anything to. Nia, sitting beside her, was apparently a fan. "Did you see the pictures from his last charity event?" she asked, holding her phone up. Amara didn't turn. "No." "Girl, you're not even curious?" "About what?" "khalil King." "Should I be?" Nia stared at her. "You're so annoying." "That's what I've been told." "He's fine." "Congratulations to him." Nia groaned. "I'm serious. Like, seriously fine. And rich. And he's an Alpha. Do you know how many women would kill to have a man like that?" Amara finally looked at her. "Do you know how many women would kill to have their own money and leave men alone?" Nia burst out laughing. "You're a damn mess." "At least I'm having fun." Raymond glanced at them through the rear-view mirror. "Can y'all keep it down? We're almost there." The vehicle slowed as a set of enormous iron gates came into view. Two guards stood on either side, dressed in black suits. One approached the driver's window, checked their invitation and nodded. The gates opened. Amara leaned back. "Lord, look at this place." Nia grinned. "Right? Imagine living here." "I'd get lost trying to find the bathroom." "Girl, you would be so miserable being rich." "Not if I had enough money to hire somebody to find the bathroom for me." Nia laughed again. The estate appeared through the trees a few minutes later. It was massive. A modern mansion built from dark stone and glass, with wide terraces, enormous windows and lights glowing across the property. Cars lined the circular driveway. Wolves from different packs were arriving in expensive suits and designer dresses, greeting each other like old friends. Amara stepped out of the SUV and immediately regretted it. The air was thick with different scents. Different pack signatures. Different personalities. Some wolves were already shifting their attention toward her family. She kept her face neutral. "Remember," Lydia whispered as she came around the vehicle, "be respectful." Amara looked at her. "I know how to act." "Then act like it." "Good evening to you too, Auntie." Nia nudged her. "Girl, please don't get us kicked out." "No promises." They made their way toward the entrance. Inside, the estate was even more ridiculous. A chandelier hung over the main hall, the floors were polished marble, and a staircase curved along one side of the room. Servers moved between guests carrying drinks and trays of food. Amara spotted a few familiar faces. People from neighbouring packs. Old family friends. Wolves who had known her since she was a child and still somehow found a reason to whisper whenever she walked past. She ignored them. Or tried to. "Is that her?" The voice came from behind her. Amara didn't turn. "That's the Bennett girl, right?" Another voice answered. "Yeah. The one without a wolf." There it was. She took a slow breath. Nia heard it too. Her smile faded. "Don't even pay them no mind," she whispered. Amara picked up a glass of water from a passing tray. "I wasn't." But the words had already reached her. The girl without a wolf. That was what they'd called her for years. At twenty-four, Amara was old enough to know exactly what she was supposed to have. Every wolf was born with an animal spirit. It might take time to awaken, but it was there. A presence beneath the skin. A voice that grew stronger with age. Amara had never heard hers. She'd waited through childhood. Through her teenage years. Through the nights she'd sat alone in her bedroom, begging for even the smallest sign. Nothing. No voice. No shift. No connection. Just silence. The pack healer had examined her more than once. Her aunt had taken her to two other healers after that. They all said the same thing. Her wolf was either dormant or never existed. Eventually, people stopped pretending they didn't know. And Amara stopped caring what they thought. At least, that's what she told herself. "You okay?" Nia asked. "Yeah." "You sure?" Amara gave her a look. "Girl, I'm fine. Go find somebody to flirt with." Nia smirked. "Don't have to tell me twice." She disappeared into the crowd. Amara moved toward the edge of the room, hoping to find somewhere quiet. She was reaching for another glass when a man stepped into her path. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. She recognised him from the photographs. Damon King. Khalil 's younger brother. "You're Amara Bennett, right?" She looked at him. "Depends who's asking." He smiled. "Damon." "I know." "That obvious?" "Your face is all over the walls in here." He laughed. "Okay. Fair enough." His eyes moved over her face, studying her with a curiosity she didn't appreciate. "I don't think we've met." "We haven't." "Well, that's a shame." Amara took a sip of water. "Is it?" Damon grinned. "Oh, you got jokes." "Only when people give me material." He laughed again, but before he could respond, somebody called his name from across the room. "Damon!" He glanced over his shoulder. "Looks like I'm needed." "Tragic." "You're funny. I like that." "Try not to let it ruin your evening." He shook his head, still smiling, and walked away. Amara watched him disappear into the crowd. At least one person in this house seemed capable of having a normal conversation. Then the room changed. It wasn't loud. Nobody screamed or announced anything. But the atmosphere shifted so quickly that Amara noticed before she understood why. Conversations lowered. People straightened. A few wolves turned toward the entrance. Even Lydia, who had been talking to another woman, stopped mid-sentence. Nia appeared beside Amara again. "Oh, shit." Amara looked at her. "What?" Nia grabbed her arm. "He's here." "Who?" Nia gave her a look. "Girl. Khalil." Amara turned toward the entrance. And there he was. Khalil King walked into the hall like the entire building belonged to him. Because it did. He wore a black suit, tailored perfectly across his shoulders, with a white shirt open at the collar. No tie. No unnecessary jewellery. Just a silver watch and an expression that suggested he had better things to do than stand around entertaining people. Two men followed him. His presence was impossible to ignore. Not because he was making noise or demanding attention. Because nobody needed to be told who he was. He was the Alpha. Amara watched him greet an older man, then exchange a few words with one of the pack elders. His movements were calm, controlled, almost bored. "Okay," Nia whispered. "I get it now." Amara looked at her. "Get what?" "Why everybody wants him." "Everybody needs a hobby." Nia elbowed her. "Shut up. He's coming this way." Amara turned back toward the drinks table. "Then I'll move." But before she could take a step, a familiar voice spoke behind her. "Amara Bennett." She froze. Not because of the voice. Because of what happened immediately after. A strange warmth travelled through her chest. Her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand, and something deep inside her seemed to stir. For the first time in her life, the silence inside her wasn't silent anymore. It was listening. Amara slowly turned. Khalil King stood a few feet away. His eyes were fixed on her. And for one brief moment, the controlled expression on his face disappeared. Something flashed across it. Shock. Recognition. Then something much darker. He took one step closer. Amara's heart gave a strange, unfamiliar beat. Khalil inhaled. His jaw tightened. "Well," he said quietly. Amara frowned. "Well, what?" His eyes moved over her face again, like he was trying to make sense of something that shouldn't exist. Then he said the words that would change everything. "Found you." Amara stared at him. "Excuse me?" Behind Khalil, Damon had stopped walking. And across the room, Victoria Hale was watching them. Her smile was gone. END OF CHAPTER ONE