Two Alphas , One mate

Chapter 2: Dumped by Destiny

So, there’s Ryan, future Alpha and my personal heartthrob, standing in my doorway like he’s about to sell me life insurance. My throat’s still screaming from last night’s smoke-fest, like I gargled hot coals. I’m barely upright, and he’s looking all serious, maybe even twitchy. What’s his deal?

“You okay?” he asks, like he actually cares.

I blink. Is this a prank? The guy who watched his buddies yeet me down stairs, dunk me in rivers, and trash my mom’s necklace—the only thing I had left of her—is suddenly Mr. Sympathetic? So I am patiently waiting for the punchline.

“Well, I am so…sorry,” he apologized. His jaw almost hit the hard ground. “They should not have done such a thing.”

Excuse me? Ryan, the king of standing by while his posse treats me like a piñata, is apologizing? I’m so shocked I can’t even croak out a response. My throat’s too fried, and I just stare at him like he’s grown a second head.

He keeps going, oblivious. “At least the rain put out the fire, so your shack’s not totally toast. But, uh, I need to talk to you.” He pauses, then hits me with: “Mia, can you smell my scent?”

I’m thrown. His scent? Yeah, he smells like a forest after a storm, all piney and stupidly addictive, but I’m not about to say that. I point at my throat, which is still on strike, and shuffle inside to grab a vanilla tea bag—one of the few treasures Ellie left me before she vanished. I hold it up, like, This is my vibe, dude. You smell like fancy wilderness.

He sniffs the tea bag, confused. “This your favorite or something?”

I nodded my head, imagining where all this was going. And why is he acting this weirder than he used to be. This means something.

“Okay, understand that I have been away for some time.” He responded, messaging the back of his neck. “I have not put my eyes on you for years now.”

But now I’m back, and… I know you’re my mate.”

I choke on nothing. My mate? Is this his idea of a sick joke? I’m braced for Ian and Brody to pop out, laughing their asses off, but Ryan’s dead serious, his blue eyes boring into me. My brain’s screaming, This is not how my life works.

“Our pack’s in deep s**t,” he continues, all business. “My brother’s dead, so I’m stepping up as Alpha. If I don’t, some other jerk could take over. And I can’t have a mate like you—a human with no wolf.”

Ouch. It felt like he stabbed me with a glossy and rusty knife and twisted it like he meant it. I lowered my eyes, and nodded like a bobblehead.

What am I supposed to do, beg? I’m Mia, the pack’s resident loser. Of course the Moon Goddess would pair me with the hottest guy in the pack and then make him allergic to me.

“You cool with this?” he asks, sounding almost pissed, like he wanted me to throw a tantrum. I nod again, and he huffs, annoyed. “You don’t have a wolf, so you won’t feel the bond snap. I’ll pick a real Luna, someone who can hack it. I doubt I’ll get another shot at a mate, but whatever. This stays between us. Secret’s locked.”

I sigh, my chest hollow. Secret? Fine. I’m used to being invisible. And yeah, I’m “lucky” my lack of a wolf means I won’t feel the mate bond shred me apart. But it still hurts, like someone’s carved out a chunk of my heart and fed it to the wolves.

Then he lays down the hammer. “I, Ryan, future Alpha of the Red Moon Pack, reject you, Mia, daughter of Omegas, as my mate and Luna.” His voice is cold, official, and it hits like a slap. I swallow the pain—same old, same old. “And I order you to stay in the pack. I might need you if my new Luna flops.”

Cool, so I’m the backup plan? A spare tire for his shiny Alpha life? I nod, because what else is there? Run? He’s the Alpha; his word’s law. Why does the Moon Goddess hate me? Isn’t my life shitty enough without this mate-rejection crap? I thought mates were supposed to be ride-or-die, not “thanks, but I’ll pass.”

That night, I’m a mess, curled up in my cot, feeling like a deflated balloon. I dream again of the forest—trees whispering, something pulling me away from this hellhole. I wake up to my sketches, all of them woods and mountains, like my brain’s obsessed with escaping. My favorite’s this one painting of a wolf-shaped peak with a waterfall spilling out, like it’s crying for me.

Ellie always said my art was good, that I could make it in the human world. She even gave me a flyer for a painting class in town. Maybe she was onto something.

“Screw it,” I mutter. Ryan’s rejection is the last straw. Men suck—every guy in this pack’s either hurt me or stood by while others did. I’m done. I grab my woven bag, stuff in my surviving sketches, brushes, and the few clothes that don’t smell like smoke. I’m heading for the human town. Art class, here I come.

I creep to the pack’s edge, heart pounding. Every step feels like I’m breaking a chain. I take one step past the border, then another. Holy crap, I’m out. Ryan’s Alpha command should’ve stopped me, but maybe my lack of a wolf means I’m immune. For the first time, I feel free, like I could dance or scream or both.

Then I hear a snap. My dumb ass walked straight into the trap, and out of nowhere, I was dangling inside a big net, swinging like a sad pinata. “What? Are you really kidding me now?” I yelled, as the sharp ropes dug deep into my bare skin.

“Hey, check it out!” a rough voice calls. Rogues. Great. They cut the net, and I crash to the ground, eating dirt for the second time this week.

“It’s a girl!” one says, sniffing me. “A human. Lame.”

“Speak, kid. Where you from?” another demands, his breath like a landfill.

I’m too freaked to talk. They’re circling me, all teeth and bad vibes. “Red Moon Alpha said we could grab any humans or rogues we find,” one says, grinning. “Paid us good to hunt his turf.”

Ryan? My mate? He’s selling people out? My stomach twists. Did he set me up?

“She’s an easy sell,” another rogue says. “Vampires might want a snack.”

Panic hits like a freight train. I’m not about to be vampire chow. While they’re yapping, I grab a branch, swing it like I’m in a bad action movie, and clock one in the head. Then I bolt, legs burning, heart slamming.

But they’re wolves. I’m human. They tackle me in seconds, fists flying. “Think you’re slick?” one snarls, and a blow to my head sends me spiraling into darkness.