Claimed by the Alpha

The wolf inside her had been quiet for eighteen years. Then, at 12:04 a.m., it decided to scream. Lira hit the floor of her bedroom, both hands clawed into the carpet like that could keep her from falling apart. It felt like someone had unzipped every bone in her body and put them back wrong. Her vision went gold around the edges, then snapped too sharp. She could see the dust on her windowsill. The hairline c***k in the ceiling paint she’d never noticed in her life. "Breathe," her mom said from the doorway. Her voice was tight. She didn’t come in. No one did, during a first shift. Not even parents. That was one of the three things Lira actually knew before tonight. "It hurts," Lira got out. "I know, baby. It’s supposed to." By 12:20 it was over. She was sitting there gasping, human again, wrapped in the blanket her mom tossed over her shoulders like this wasn’t the first time. It wasn’t. Just the first time for Lira. "Okay," her mom said, kneeling now. She brushed the damp hair off Lira’s forehead. "That part’s done." "There’s another part?" Her mom’s face did something weird. Relief and dread at the same time. Like she’d practiced this speech for years and still hated every word of it. "We need to tell you something," she said. "Your dad’s waiting downstairs." That’s never a good sentence. Especially not when you’ve just had your skeleton rearranged. The kitchen table felt too small for what was about to happen. Her dad sat with his hands folded, the same way he did before bad grades or the dog dying. Except this wasn’t either, so Lira had no clue what to brace for. "You know about the Ashwood pact," he said. Which was worse than any question. "The old peace treaty? With the enemy pack?" She’d grown up hearing about Ashwood the way kids hear about hurricanes. Dangerous. From before. Mostly just stories. "What about it?" Her parents looked at each other. The look that meant one of them had to say it, and neither wanted to. "You were promised," her dad said. "To their alpha’s son. Kane. When you were born." The room went quiet. Outside, a dog barked twice and stopped. "Promised," Lira repeated. "Like, arranged? Marriage?" "Like a mate bond." Her mom’s voice cracked on the last word. "It’s the only reason the packs aren’t at war. Sixteen years ago. The pact bought the peace. And you were the price." Lira laughed. Not because it was funny. Because her brain refused to take it seriously. "So I was traded as a baby and you’re telling me this now?" "We wanted you to have a normal childhood." "Congrats. You nailed it. Right up until an hour ago." Her dad flinched. She almost felt bad. Almost. "There’s more," he said. "Shocker." "You leave for Ashwood in three days." Rhys showed up before she’d even finished packing. Of course he did. Rhys always showed up when things blew up. "This is insane," he said, pacing her room like he paid rent there. Which, honestly, he basically did. "They can’t just ship you off. You’re eighteen. This isn’t the 1400s." "Feels a little 1400s." "Lira." He stopped. Looked at her the way he had since they were kids. Like she was already his. "I thought once my wolf settled, once I could petition for a bond, that it’d be us. Everyone thought that." "Nobody asked what I thought." "That’s not—" "It is the point, Rhys." She yanked her bag zipper too hard. "I don’t get a say. My whole life just got flipped in one night and everyone’s telling me how I’m supposed to feel instead of asking." He softened a little and sat on the edge of her bed. "I just don’t want you going to people who’ve hated us longer than we’ve been alive." "I don’t want to go either. Doesn’t change that I’m going." "You could refuse." "Could I?" She finally looked at him. "Or would the peace just fall apart and it’d be my fault?" He didn’t answer. That was answer enough. The drive to Ashwood took four hours. Lira spent most of it staring out the window while the trees got thicker and the light got worse. Like the land itself was telling her to turn back. The pack house didn’t look like a house. It looked like a fortress. Stone walls. Iron gates. A wolf’s head carved over the door. Guards lined the driveway, and every single one went stiff when her car rolled in. Quick glances. Nothing else. She noticed. Filed it away. Kane was waiting on the front steps. Not what she pictured. On the drive she’d built him into some monster. Cold eyes, cruel mouth. What she got was younger. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. Standing way too still, like he’d trained himself not to react. "Lira," he said. Not a question. He knew. "Kane." She kept her voice flat. Defense. He came down the steps but stopped a few feet away. Too close for a stranger. Too far for anything else. "East wing. My beta will show you around." "That’s it? No ‘nice to meet you’?" Something crossed his face and vanished. "Didn’t think you’d want pleasantries from me." "I didn’t think I’d want any of this," she said. "But here we are." For half a second he almost looked impressed. "Here we are," he agreed. That night she lay in a bed that wasn’t hers, in a house full of people who weren’t hers, staring at a ceiling she didn’t know. Thinking about the guards. About the older pack woman who’d gone pale and looked away when Lira walked by. About how Kane’s beta started to say "the uncle’s rebellion" and then cut himself off. Something in this house wasn’t being said. She could feel it. Like a held breath. She was still turning it over when she heard it. Footsteps in the hall. Careful. Quiet. Someone trying not to be heard. She knew that walk. Kane. Except he wasn’t going to his room. He was going down the stairs. Out. At almost 1 a.m., on the first night his supposed mate arrived, the alpha of Ashwood was sneaking out of his own house. Lira sat up in the dark. Every new instinct she had said the same thing. Whatever he was hiding started tonight.