Claimed By The Alpha Who Shouldn't Want Me.

Kaira's pov I always thought the mate bond would save me. That it would lift me out of the shadows my family trapped me in, that it would grant me something pure, something mine. I believed every story—every whispered legend of the moon choosing with wisdom, of fated ties forged in the marrow. I believed it right up until the moment it snapped. And gods, it hurt. The night I caught my mate with my sister, the moon hung low and swollen, bleeding white through the skeletal trees. Cold air wrapped around me like a warning. The pack’s Litha celebration rumbled behind me—drums, laughter, drunken shouts—but the forest beyond the clearing was a different world. Quiet. Watchful. Waiting. I sensed him before I saw him. Finnian. My mate. My almost-future. His scent—pine and smoke—twisted on the wind and led me deeper between the trees. My wolf rose anxiously in me, paws scraping at the edges of my ribs. Something’s wrong, she whispered. Something’s hiding. Then I heard it—the soft gasp. Not fear. Pleasure. I froze, every hair on my skin lifting. Footsteps, a muffled moan, the wet sound of lips crashing together. A growl that should have been reserved for me. My pulse hammered as I crept closer, breath trapped in my chest like prey waiting for the snap of teeth. And there they were. Finnian pressed against the trunk of a pine, hands gripping thighs that wrapped around his waist—my sister’s thighs. Lena’s fingers tangled in his hair. His mouth devoured her neck, his hips dragging her closer. Moonlight painted them in silver sin. My wolf went utterly still. My vision tunneled until all I could see was their bodies fused together. My heart stumbled and then… stopped. The bond inside me shivered once, like a warning quiver. Then— It broke. Like a blade driven into my sternum, twisting hard. A ripping sensation tore down my spine, shredding the invisible tether that had tied me to him. Burning flooded my lungs. My knees buckled. A scream ripped out of me—not sound, but wolf. A primal, guttural howl that echoed through every part of me. Finnian jerked away from her. Lena’s eyes widened, her lips red and swollen. “Kaira—” But I didn’t hear the rest. The agony swallowed everything. My wolf thrashed, claws raking, teeth snapping, mourning and enraged. The severing of a mate bond was supposed to be rare. Devastating. Survivable only with support, with care, with a mate reaching back through the thread to soothe the wound. But he wasn’t reaching. He was staring, stunned, guilty, panting from pleasure. “You weren’t supposed to—” Finnian began, but the words faded behind the sound of my own pulse roaring like a storm. My chest convulsed. My breath fractured. I stumbled backward, cold earth biting into my palms. The world spun and tilted. The betrayal tasted metallic. Lena whispered something. Maybe an apology. Maybe a lie. I didn’t care. I turned and ran blindly into the woods, branches slashing at my arms, roots catching my feet. The pain followed me like a phantom dragging claws down my spine. And then my body gave out. I collapsed onto the forest floor, curling in on myself as the remnants of the bond burned out like the final flicker of a dying flame. My wolf howled inside—rage, grief, disbelief all merging into something feral. I pressed my forehead into the cold dirt. “Why?” The word was barely breath. “Why him? Why her?” My wolf didn’t answer. She was too busy tearing the sky apart in her anguish. Somewhere behind me, the celebration continued. Life went on. Unaware. Unchanged. But my world had split open. Minutes or hours passed—I couldn’t tell. I floated in a feverish haze, trembling as the last threads of the bond disintegrated. I felt hollow, carved out, as if someone had scooped out my chest and left only the echo of what used to be. That was when I felt it. A shift in the air. Heavy. Dominant. Slow. A presence. Not a stranger’s—but not familiar enough to be safe. Footsteps approached, soft but deliberate, crushing leaves under a weight that carried authority. My wolf, still wounded and bristling, lifted her head weakly. A shadow crouched at the edge of my vision. A tall figure. Broad shoulders. Dark hair catching the thin moonlight. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t speak at first. But the forest seemed to quiet around him, as if recognizing the supremacy of the man who stepped into it. Alpha Draven Blackthorn. Finnian’s father. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be anywhere near me. And yet the moment he appeared, the burning in my chest dulled—not healed, just… muted, as though his presence pressed against the wound with unexpected gentleness. “Kaira.” His voice was low, deep, rough with command. It wasn’t the booming voice he used during pack meetings, nor the cold edge I’d heard when disciplining warriors. This one was softer, like a shadow brushing my cheek. I forced my eyes open. Draven stood a few feet away, arms folded behind his back as if intentionally restraining himself from reaching for me. Moonlight carved lines into his face—strong jaw, dark eyes watching with something unreadable. Something dangerous. “Alpha…” My voice cracked. It hurt to even speak. “I—I didn’t know—” “You don’t need to explain.” His tone cut through the tremor in mine. “I felt it.” Of course he had. Every Alpha could sense the rupture of a bond within their territory. But the way he said it—steady, quiet, almost intimate—made a shiver run through me. “Can you stand?” he asked. I tried. My legs threatened to buckle again. Draven stepped forward instinctively—but stopped himself, jaw clenching. His restraint was palpable. And confusing. He wasn’t a man known for restraint. “I’m fine,” I lied. His eyes narrowed, assessing every tremor, every breath, every flicker of agony on my face. He said nothing, but his posture shifted—just an inch—as though preparing to catch me if I fell. Something flickered inside me. Something wrong. Something I pushed down immediately. This was Finnian’s father. The Alpha. The man who ruled over all of us with ruthlessness wrapped in control. I curled my fingers into the dirt to stay grounded. “He was with her,” I whispered. And though shame wasn’t mine—not this time—it still choked me. Draven’s expression didn’t change, but the air around him did. It tightened. Darkened. His aura pulsed like a storm gathering behind his ribs. “I know,” he said quietly. “You… saw?” I asked, horrified. “No,” he replied. “But I didn’t need to. The moment the bond ruptured, I knew it wasn’t a natural severing. It was violence. Betrayal. His betrayal.” The word hissed through his teeth like a curse. My wolf lifted weakly, surprised by the fury simmering beneath his calm. I didn’t understand it. Why would he care? I forced myself to sit up. My body shook, but I held my chin high. “I won’t break,” I murmured. “I won’t fall apart because of him.” Draven’s gaze lingered on me, dark and unreadable. “Good,” he said softly. “Do not kneel for someone who is not worthy of you.” The words landed deep. Too deep. I sucked in a shaky breath. The pain was still there—burning, clawing—but beneath it something new stirred. Something sharper. More deliberate. It wasn’t grief. It was the beginning of vengeance. Finnian had taken something sacred and destroyed it with his own hands. And he thought I would simply disappear into the shadows, humiliated, shattered, forgotten. But I would not crawl. I would not bow. I would rise and burn everything he thought was his. And I knew exactly where to start. I looked up at the man standing over me. The man Finnian feared, obeyed, admired. The man he would never surpass. The man who exuded strength with every breath he took. Alpha Draven. The forbidden. The untouchable. The one sin no wolf would dare commit. An idea—dark, wild, intoxicating—coiled through me. My wolf lifted her head fully now, eyes gleaming with raw, vicious intent. Make him regret everything, she whispered. Make him ache. Make him watch as you become the one thing he can’t possess and can’t escape. Revenge wasn’t the right word. Retribution felt closer. I steadied my breath, letting the thought settle like embers waiting to ignite. Draven’s eyes narrowed, sensing the shift in me. “What are you thinking, Kaira?” I met his gaze, swallowing the tremor in my chest. “I’m thinking,” I said quietly, “that I’m done being the one left behind.” His jaw flexed. His stare tightened around me like an invisible grip. The forest held its breath. And he leaned just slightly closer—not enough to touch, but enough for his presence to dominate the small space between us. “Good,” he murmured, voice dark silk. “Then don’t look to the past.” A beat. “Look to who’s watching you now.” My heart stopped—not shattered like before, but paused as though my soul recognized a truth I wasn’t ready for. He had been watching. Longer than I knew. And for reasons I couldn’t yet understand.