The Alpha I meant to kill is my mate.

Hazel's pov The stone floor was cold beneath my knees, rough enough to recognise skin. My hands, red and raw, moved in circles over the same patch I had been scrubbing for an hour. The rag was frayed, soaked through, useless, but if I slowed even for a second, someone would notice. And if someone noticed, pain would follow. “Faster, slave!” A boot kicked over the bucket beside me. Dirty water poured on the floor I’d just cleaned, soaking into my rag of a dress. Laughter echoed down the corridor, ugly cruel and sharp. I swallowed the anger rising in my body and kept my head down. If I met their eyes, if I let them see even a flicker of what I felt, they’d drag me outside and whip me till I'm bloody. That was the first rule of surviving here: be invisible. I had been seven years old when my family sold me to the Alpha King. A debt they couldn’t pay was settled with the only thing of value they had left , me. The alpha has decided he wanted me as settlement ba ut I never, understood why but who was, I to ask him questions. I remembered my mother’s tear-streaked face, my father’s silence, the way their hands had pushed me forward while mine reached back, begging, pleading. That was the last time I saw them. Fourteen years had passed. Fourteen years of servitude, humiliation, loneliness. I wasn’t a wolf anyone respected . I wasn’t even allowed to shift. The pack treated me as less than trash, something to be spat on and used as everyone's bag. Yet for reasons I never understood, the Alpha King had never allowed me to die even when she wanted to. Maybe it was because of the strange flickers of power that sometimes danced beneath my skin. Sparks of heat in my palms. A light that shimmered faintly when I was alone. Once, as a child, I had healed a scratch on my arm within minutes. Another time, I had set a wooden spoon on fire by touching it. The pack whispered about me. Witch. Cursed. Wrong. The Alpha King never Dominic's me those names, but he watched me closely. Too closely. As if I were both a tool and a threat. That night, the door to the cellar creaked open. I froze, my hands mid-scrub, as torchlight spilled across the stones. Two guards stepped inside. “You,” one sneered. “Up.” My heart pounded. Usually, when they came for me at night, it was for punishment. Some imagined offense, some order from above. I tried not to think about those nights. I tried not to remember the sting of the whip, the taste of blood in my mouth. I stood slowly, keeping my eyes on the floor. My wrists hurt from scrubbing, my knees were bruised, but I moved without complaint. Complaining never helped, it only made things worse. They didn’t strike me this time. They simply grabbed my arms and dragged me up the stairs, through the stone corridors of Bloodstone Pack’s fortress. Torches flickered on the walls, shadows dancing over snarling wolf emblems carved into the stone. We stopped before the Alpha King’s chamber. My stomach twisted, I didn't know if it was from hunger or fear perhaps both. The doors opened. He sat on his throne, massive and imposing, dressed in furs despite the warmth of the fire burning in the hearth. His dark eyes fixed on me, unreadable, I lowered myself to my knees, bowing until my forehead touched the cold floor. “Rise,” he said, his voice a growl that vibrated through the chamber. I obeyed, keeping my gaze low “You have been chosen for a task,” he said. A task. My heart skipped. Slaves weren’t given tasks. Slaves cleaned floors and scrubbed pots until they collapsed. “You will leave Bloodstone tomorrow at dawn,” the Alpha King continued. “You will enter the rival territory of Crimson Fang Pack. You will find their Alpha, and you will kill him.” I blinked, certain I had misheard. My throat felt tight. “M-my lord? His gaze sharpened. “You heard me.” The room seemed to spin. I had never left these walls, never been trusted with anything beyond menial labor. Why me? Why would he send me to do something only trained warriors could attempt? As if sensing my thoughts, he leaned forward, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “You wonder why I send you. The truth is simple, little slave. You are expendable. If you succeed, Crimson Fang is weakened. If you fail, I lose nothing, but if you think even for a second that could run away I will take your sister to complete what u started " My chest constricted. Expendable and even worse he knew where my family were, I had heard rumors, my family had left the pack the day alpha Desmond took me. “There is more,” he added, almost casually. “Once you have killed the rival Alpha, you will end your own life. Cut your throat, drive the blade into your heart , I do not care how. But you will not return here alive.” The words struck harder than any whip. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t just sending me to die , he wanted my death to be part of the mission. And the worst part? A part of me almost welcomed it. Death meant no more cold floors, no more laughter at my expense, no more years of being less than nothing. Still, some small spark inside me resisted. My hands trembled at my sides, not from fear, but from that strange heat that sometimes pulsed in my veins. For a heartbeat, I wanted to fight. To scream. To burn this entire fortress to the ground. But I swallowed it down. If I disobeyed, I’d die screaming tonight as a slave and my sister would suffer in my place “Yes, my lord,” I whispered. My voice was steady, though I felt anything but. The Alpha King leaned back, satisfied. “Good. The Beta will give you a dagger. Do not lose it.” The guards seized me again, dragging me from the chamber. The doors slammed shut behind me with a finality that echoed in my chest. “Tomorrow, I will be sent to kill a rival Alpha. Tomorrow, I will die. And as the guards shoved me back into the darkness of the cellar, I wondered if death might be kinder than the life I had lived so far”.