The Alpha's Forgotten Daughter

The Letter She Didn't Finish

The rain woke me before sunrise.

Not the sound.

The smell.

Rain had a way of slipping into everything.

The walls.

The blankets.

The old wooden beams above my head.

I lay still for a long moment, staring at the ceiling.

Mara's den always felt different during storms.

Smaller.

Safer.

As though the world outside couldn't quite reach me.

Three sharp knocks rattled the front door.

I smiled.

Only Mara knocked as though she expected the door to argue back.

"You're awake."

"How do you know?"

"Because you've been awake for the last ten minutes."

I frowned.

"That's a little unsettling."

"It's experience."

The door opened before I could answer.

Mara stepped inside carrying two steaming mugs.

Peppermint tea.

The sight alone eased something inside me.

I wrapped both hands around the warm mug.

Comfort.

Routine.

Home.

Mara settled into the chair beside the rain-speckled window.

Outside, rain whispered against the glass.

For several quiet moments, neither of us spoke.

We never needed to.

Silence had never been uncomfortable between us.

Finally, Mara looked up.

"You were at the packhouse yesterday."

I groaned.

"Does everyone in Beaumont know everything?"

"Almost."

Wonderful.

I took a slow sip of tea.

"Mara."

"Hm?"

"That's terrifying."

A smile flickered across her face before disappearing again.

"Did you go to her room?"

There it was.

The question she'd wanted to ask all along.

I stared into my cup.

The tea rippled gently.

"I might have."

Mara sighed.

Not with anger.

Not disappointment.

With exhaustion.

The kind that came from carrying something too heavy for too long.

"Aria."

I hated when she said my name like that.

Soft.

Careful.

Like she was trying to shield me from something I couldn't yet see.

"What?"

"Some doors stay closed for a reason."

I looked toward the rain-streaked window.

Beyond it, the forest dissolved into shades of gray.

Everyone said things like that.

The Alpha.

Elder Thomas.

Now Mara.

Warnings.

Always warnings.

Never answers.

I wasn't asking about pack politics.

I wasn't asking about ancient laws.

I was asking about my mother.

The woman whose face I could barely remember.

The woman everyone seemed determined to bury beneath silence.

"Did she love me?"

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Everything became quiet.

Even the rain seemed to pause.

Mara carefully placed her mug on the table.

Then she met my eyes.

"More than her own life."

There wasn't a moment's hesitation.

Not even the smallest pause.

The certainty in her voice stole my breath.

My throat tightened painfully.

I looked away before she could see it.

Ridiculous.

Nineteen years old...

And one sentence had nearly broken me.

Mara pretended not to notice.

I loved her for that.

The rest of the day passed quickly.

Work always helped.

Work gave my thoughts somewhere else to go.

A hunter with a badly cut hand.

A feverish child.

An elder convinced a splinter had reached his heart.

The usual.

By late afternoon, my feet ached, and my thoughts had finally quieted.

Mara closed one of the supply cabinets.

"We're almost out of willow bark."

I groaned dramatically.

"Anything but the storage room."

"You survived yesterday."

"Barely."

She folded her arms.

"Willow bark, Aria."

I muttered something she wisely pretended not to hear and disappeared into the back room.

The storage room smelled of dried herbs.

Dust.

Old paper.

The shelves climbed almost to the ceiling, packed with wooden crates and aging boxes.

Some looked older than I was.

Maybe older than Mara.

I climbed onto a stool and reached for the crate marked Willow Bark.

The moment my fingers touched it...

Something shifted.

A smaller wooden box slid from the shelf.

Straight toward my face.

"Oh!"

I ducked.

The box crashed onto the floor.

Its contents scattered everywhere.

Dried flowers.

Faded ribbons.

Small notes.

And enough dust to make me cough.

"Perfect."

I climbed down and knelt beside the mess.

As I gathered everything back into the box...

One folded paper caught my attention.

It was different.

Carefully wrapped in oilcloth.

Protected.

My curiosity won immediately.

It usually did.

I unfolded it carefully.

The moment I saw the handwriting...

Everything inside me stopped.

I knew those letters.

Not because I'd seen them often.

Because I'd memorized every scrap of my mother's writing I'd ever found.

The room disappeared.

There was only me...

And the page trembling in my hands.

My daughters,

If you're reading this, then something has happened that I prayed never would.

My pulse quickened.

There are truths I wanted to tell you myself.

Then—

Especially Aria...

The air left my lungs.

Especially...

Aria.

Not Ashley.

Me.

I read the line again.

Then again.

Certain I had misunderstood.

I hadn't.

My eyes raced farther down the page.

Most of the letter had been ruined.

Water had bled the ink into dark stains.

Entire sentences had vanished.

Frustration clawed at my chest.

Then...

One final line remained.

Barely readable.

The star...

My hand flew instinctively to my shoulder blade.

The hidden birthmark.

The one no one would explain.

The one Mara refused to discuss.

The one that always made the Alpha's eyes darken before he looked away.

A floorboard creaked behind me.

I spun so quickly the letter nearly slipped from my hands.

Mara stood in the doorway.

The moment her eyes found the page...

Every trace of color drained from her face.

I had never seen Mara look afraid.

Not during rogue attacks.

Not when warriors arrived bleeding.

Not when sickness swept through Beaumont.

But this...

This was fear.

Real fear.

And it wasn't for herself.

It was for me.

A heavy certainty settled inside my chest.

Mara knew.

Whatever the rain had erased...

Whatever my mother had been trying to tell me...

Mara already knew.

Slowly, I lowered the letter.

Then looked back at her.

"What aren't you telling me?"

For the first time in my life...

Mara opened her mouth—

And before she could answer, the front door burst open.

"The Alpha!"

A young warrior's voice echoed through the den.

"Rogues attacked the eastern patrol! They're bringing in the wounded!"

Mara's head snapped toward the door.

The moment was gone.

Again.

She looked at me.

Then at the letter still trembling in my hands.

Whatever answer she had been about to give...

It would have to wait.

And somehow...

I knew waiting was about to become the most dangerous part of all.