Fated to the Wrong Alpha

Hidden Mate Pt. 2

CLARA POV

The Alpha's eyes fell on me, a flicker of recognition quickly replaced by confusion. "Ivy?" he asked, brow furrowed with confusion. "What's going on?"

"This isn't Ivy," Rowan said, his grip on my hand tightening. "This is Clara. She's... she's Ivy's twin sister."

The Alpha's eyes widened in disbelief as they swept over me, taking in every detail. I felt exposed under his scrutiny, fighting the urge to hide behind Rowan. The Luna's hand flew to her mouth, a small gasp escaping her lips.

"Impossible," the Alpha murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "We were told... How can this be?"

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. Rowan's hand on the small of my back steadied me, giving me the courage to speak. "It's true, Alpha," I said softly, lowering my eyes respectfully. "I'm Clara Duvall. I've been living with our great-aunt Agatha on the outskirts of pack territory."

The Luna took a hesitant step forward, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Oh, child," she breathed, reaching out as if to touch me before stopping herself. "We thought you had died as an infant. How... how are you here?"

I shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to answer. What did they mean they thought I had died?

Rowan spoke up, his voice firm. "That's what we need to figure out. There's been some kind of deception here, and we need to get to the bottom of it."

The Alpha nodded, his expression grave. "You're right, son. This situation calls for immediate action." He turned to his mate. "Gwen, please contact Beta Eamon and his family. Tell them to come to my office at once."

I watched as the Luna’s eyes glazed over, something I knew was a sign of her mind-linking. My aunt had taught me so she could mind-link with me, but I was never able to do so with anyone else.

The Alpha gestured for us to sit and I perched nervously on the edge of a plush leather chair, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. Rowan took the seat beside me, his presence a comforting anchor.

"Clara," the Alpha said gently, his stern features softening. "I know this must be overwhelming for you. Can you tell us a little about your life? How you came to be here?"

I took a deep breath, willing my voice not to shake. "I-I've lived with Aunt Agatha for as long as I can remember. She always told me it was for my own protection, that the pack wouldn't understand. I wasn't allowed to leave the cottage or interact with anyone else." I paused, memories of lonely days flooding back. "Last night I snuck out to watch the White Moon ceremony from afar… and to experience my first shift. That's when... that's when I met Rowan."

“I thought she was Ivy in the dark of night…” Rowan murmured under his breath, but I wasn’t sure if his father caught that bit.

The Alpha's brow furrowed, a mix of emotions flashing across his face – confusion, anger, sorrow. Before he could respond, the office door burst open.

My breath caught in my throat as I laid eyes on my family for the first time in nearly two decades. Beta Eamon entered first, his tall frame imposing and regal. His graying hair was neatly combed back, his sharp gray eyes scanning the room before landing on me with a look of shock that quickly morphed into something unreadable.

Behind him came a woman who could only be my mother, Melina. Her golden hair, so like my own, was elegantly styled, and her green eyes widened as they fell upon me. She stumbled slightly, steadying herself against the doorframe.

And then, there was Ivy. My twin. My mirror image. It was like looking at a perfected version of myself - her posture straight and confident, her skin unblemished, her gait smooth and graceful. She froze in the doorway, her mouth falling open in a perfect 'O' of surprise.

"What is the meaning of this?" Beta Eamon's voice cut through the stunned silence, sharp and demanding. His eyes darted between me and Rowan, narrowing dangerously.

The Alpha stepped forward, his voice firm but controlled. "Eamon, we need answers. This young woman claims to be Clara - Ivy's twin sister. The daughter we were told died as an infant."

My father's face paled slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. "Alpha, I can explain," he began, his tone placating. "Yes, this is indeed Clara. But you must understand, we had no choice but to keep her hidden."

"No choice?" the Alpha growled, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Explain yourself, Beta."

Father cleared his throat, his eyes darting nervously around the room before settling on me with a look of feigned pity. "Alpha Aldric, Luna Gwendolyn, I beg your forgiveness for the deception, but you must understand – we thought we were acting in the pack's best interest."

He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. "Clara was born... different. Weak, sickly from the moment she drew her first breath. The healers weren't sure she would survive her first moon."

Father continued, his voice taking on a sorrowful tone that rang false to my ears. "As she grew, it became clear that her challenges weren't just physical. Her mind... it developed more slowly than other pups. She struggled to grasp even the simplest concepts."

"That's not true!" I managed to choke out, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt at those lies spilling from his lips. "I'm not—"

But Eamon spoke over me, his voice rising to drown out my protests. "Even now, she struggles to understand. It breaks my heart, truly it does."

Ivy stepped forward then, her green eyes wide with false concern as she placed a comforting hand on our father's arm. "It's true," she said softly, her voice dripping with manufactured sympathy. "I remember, when we were very young, how Clara struggled to catch up. We’re the same age, but she always felt like she was a much younger sister to me because of how slow she is."

I stared at my sister in disbelief, my heart hammering anxiously in my chest. How could she stand there and spout such blatant lies? We'd never even held a conversation before, yet she wove these tales as if they were cherished childhood memories.

The Alpha's brow furrowed as he looked between Eamon and me, clearly conflicted. "If what you say is true, Beta, why the elaborate ruse? Why fake her death and hide her away?"

Eamon's expression turned solemn, his voice lowering as if imparting a great secret. "We feared how the pack might react. You know how some can be about perceived weakness. We worried for her safety, for how she might be treated if her... condition... became common knowledge. It would be best if we sent her back to her great aunt’s home to live in peace the rest of her days."

“You can’t send Clara back.” Rowan spoke out. He took a deep breath as he continued, “I marked her. We mated.”

"Marked?" Ivy's voice lost all the sympathy in an instant. It trembled with rage, yet held an undercurrent of heartbreak. She stood at a distance, fury simmering just beneath her graceful exterior. Her beauty was marred by betrayal as she moved closer to Rowan, searching his gaze for something. “I thought—”

Rowan’s brows knitted together briefly before he faced her fully, his expression resolute yet pained. “Ivy, you know how much you mean to me. I love you. I’m in love with you. But this—” He gestured between us, between himself and me – his fated mate standing awkwardly before him, feeling every ounce of Ivy's heartbreak wash over me like icy rain, my own heart breaking at the sound of my mate telling another woman he loved her. “What Clara and I have is different; it’s beyond anything I ever expected. Clara and I share the fated mate bond.”

A collective gasp erupted from those gathered around us. My mother looked like she might faint. My father and Ivy both looked pale and sick to their stomachs. Whisper felt like she’d just been stabbed through the heart at Rowan’s words. Our fated mate loved someone else…

Alpha Aldric's gaze swept over the room, taking in the tense faces and conflicting emotions. His brown eyes, so like Rowan's, lingered on me for a long moment, filled with a mixture of pity and uncertainty that made my stomach churn.

"This is... a lot to process," he said finally, his voice weary. "We need time to discuss this situation and determine the best course of action."

My heart sank. They were certainly going to send me away, back to my life of isolation and loneliness. I opened my mouth to protest, to plead my case, but the Alpha held up a hand, silencing me before I could speak. My wolf pressed against my mind, demanding we defend ourselves and our bond with our mate, but I couldn’t find the words.

"Rowan," he said, turning to his son. "Please escort Clara – your mate – to one of the guest rooms in the east wing. Make sure she's comfortable. She'll stay there while we... sort this out."

I expected Rowan to argue more, to stand up for me and state that our bond was not up for debate, but to my dismay, he simply nodded. "Yes, father," he said, his voice carefully neutral.

"But—" I started, only to be cut off by Beta Eamon's sharp glare.

"You see how she struggles to follow even simple instructions?" he said, his voice dripping with false concern. "It's for the best, truly. Let the adults handle this, dear."

Tears of frustration and humiliation burned in my eyes as Rowan gently took my arm, guiding me towards the door. As we passed Ivy, I saw only hatred burning in her green eyes. Whisper wanted nothing more than to lay into them all.

The walk through the packhouse was a blur of polished wood and curious stares. My mind raced, trying to process everything that had just happened. After Rowan’s revelation would they still dare to toss me away? What about Rowan and Ivy and their love?

As we climbed a grand staircase, its mahogany banister gleaming in the afternoon light, I finally found my voice. "Are they going to make us break the bond?" I asked, my words barely above a whisper.

Rowan's step faltered, and he turned to look at me. For the first time since we'd entered his father's office, I saw a crack in his carefully controlled expression. Pain and conflict warred in his eyes.

"I don't know," he admitted softly. "But I promise you, Clara, I'll do everything I can to protect our bond. You're my fated mate. That has to count for something."

Fated mates – such a beautiful concept, but it felt more like a curse right now. I wanted to reach for that warmth he offered, but the weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air between us.

We reached the guest room and Rowan opened the door with a graceful sweep, revealing a space that was luxurious yet sterile, adorned with rich fabrics in deep blues and golds that felt foreign to me. My heart raced as I stepped inside, half-expecting the walls to close in on me like a trap.

Rowan followed closely behind, his presence looming large yet oddly protective. “Clara,” he said, his voice low and steady, “you have to trust me.”

Trust? That word felt slippery in my mind. I wanted to scream at him for not fighting harder against his father's decision or for simply accepting the lies that had defined my life until now. Instead, I turned away from him, staring out the window at the garden below where the sunlight spilled like fire over the meticulously trimmed hedges.

"You don't understand," I murmured as I heard his footsteps finally receding and the door closing between us, feeling the walls close around me again. "They're not going to let me out of my cage."