The Alpha's forbidden firstborn

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION

Elara had learned a long time ago not to make noise. Not to complain. Not to exist in a way that drew attention. It was the kind of lesson you didn't forget—the kind that carved itself into your bones until silence became instinct.

She was on her knees, scrubbing the marble floor of the great hall. Her hands were raw and bleeding, cracked from years of harsh soap and cold water. Her back ached. Her knees burned. But she kept scrubbing, because stopping meant punishment, and punishment meant pain.

The pack was always busy with something—ceremonies, meetings, visits from other packs. But today, the great hall was quiet. That meant Alpha Viktor was in his study, which meant less chance of being noticed.

That was the only good thing about quiet days. When Viktor forgot she existed, she didn't get beaten.

"Faster."

The voice cut through the silence like a whip.

Elara flinched, her heart lurching into her throat. She looked up slowly, keeping her eyes lowered—a survival tactic she'd perfected over twelve long years.

Rachel. Alpha Viktor's daughter. Her tormentor.

Rachel was beautiful in the way that poisonous flowers were beautiful—all sharp edges and hidden venom. She stood over Elara with her arms crossed, her lips curled in disgust.

"Faster, you worthless human," Rachel snapped. "Do you think I want to look at your pathetic face all day?"

"I'm sorry." The words came out automatically, barely a whisper. Apologizing was a reflex now—a desperate, useless attempt to avoid pain.

"Of course you are." Rachel kicked the bucket beside her. Water sloshed across the polished floor, spreading in a dark stain. "Clean that up. And then prepare the guest rooms. We have visitors coming tonight."

She turned and stalked away, her heels clicking against the stone like a countdown to punishment.

Elara waited until Rachel disappeared before releasing a shuddering breath. Her entire body ached—old wounds layered beneath new ones, a map of pain that covered every inch of her skin.

Twelve years.

She'd been in Blackfang for twelve years.

She didn't remember much from before. A woman's face. A gentle voice. A necklace she couldn't quite picture. Everything before Viktor was a blur of half-formed memories that slipped through her fingers like smoke.

Viktor had found her in the woods. Alone. Confused. Terrified. He'd said he saved her from rogues. She'd believed him.

At first, he'd been kind. Gentle. He'd given her food and shelter and told her she was safe. She'd trusted him.

That trust had been her first mistake.

"Worthless human," he'd called her, the first time he'd struck her. "Filthy, useless creature."

She'd stayed because she had nowhere else to go. She'd stayed because the world outside was more terrifying than the pain inside. She'd even tried running once—only to be dragged back, beaten within an inch of her life, and starved for days.

She never ran again.

Now, at twenty years old, Elara had learned the only lesson that mattered: survival meant silence.

---

She scrubbed the floors until her hands bled. She prepared the guest rooms until her legs gave out. She carried trays and linens and firewood until her body screamed for rest.

And when the sun finally set, she retreated to her corner—a cold, dark space in the servants' quarters where she could curl into a ball and pretend, just for a moment, that she didn't exist.

She touched her neck.

It was an old habit. She didn't know why she did it—only that something was supposed to be there. Something she couldn't remember.

She closed her eyes and let the darkness take her.

Kael Draven stood on the balcony of his pack house, staring at the moon.

The Blood Moon Alpha had ruled for seven years. He was respected. Feared. Every she-wolf in the territory dreamed of being his Luna. He'd built his pack into a fortress, secured his borders, and crushed every enemy who dared challenge him.

He had money. Power. Everything a wolf could want.

Everything except a mate.

"Brooding again," a familiar voice said.

Kael didn't turn. He knew the voice—Darian, his Beta and best friend. The only wolf in the world who could speak to him without fear.

"I'm not brooding," Kael said flatly. "I'm thinking."

"About what?" Darian leaned against the doorframe. "The peace ceremony with Blackfang? The border dispute with Ironclaw?" He paused, his smirk widening. "Or the fact that you're thirty and still single?"

Kael finally turned, shooting him a glare. "I'm not thirty yet."

"Close enough."

"I'm not looking for a mate." Kael ran a hand through his dark hair. "I'm focusing on the pack."

"Liar." Darian pushed off the frame and walked toward him. "I can always tell when you're lying. You want a mate. You want a family. You just don't want to admit it because you think it makes you weak."

Kael was silent for a long moment.

"I'm scared, Darian." His voice was barely audible. "I'm scared I'll never find her."

Darian's expression softened. He placed a hand on Kael's shoulder.

"You will find her. The Moon Goddess has a plan for all of us. You just have to trust her."

Kael nodded, but the weight in his chest didn't lift.

He'd been waiting for years. Years of watching other wolves find their mates, build their lives, find their happiness.

And he was still alone.

---

The morning sun rose over Blood Moon, painting the sky in shades of gold and amber.

Kael stood in the training grounds, watching his warriors spar. He'd been distracted lately—his mind wandering, his focus slipping. Darian kept giving him knowing looks, but Kael ignored them.

He had a pack to run. Borders to secure. Enemies to crush.

He didn't have time to brood about the mate he might never find.

"Alpha!" One of the warriors called out. "Care to spar?"

Kael's lips curved into a rare smile. "You sure about that?"

The warrior paled. "On second thought—"

"Too late."

Kael shifted in a blur of fur and muscle, his wolf crashing into the warrior with joyful ferocity. The training yard erupted in laughter and howls.

For a moment, Kael forgot about his loneliness.

For a moment, he was just a wolf, running free.

But later that night, when the moon rose high and the pack was asleep, Kael found himself back on the balcony, staring at the stars.

He touched his chest, where his wolf still howled.

Where are you? he whispered to the night. Where is my mate?

The wind carried no answer.