The Transplanted Mate

Walking Disaster

Morning came too quickly.

It always did. Especially when you live the same life, day in — day out.

Briar woke before the light fully reached the lower quarters, body moving before her mind had caught up. Routine didn’t require thought—only obedience. And if anything had been rammed down their throats, it was obedience after all.

The photo lay beside her where it had slipped from her hand during the night.

For a moment, she just looked at it. Always a reminder of the life she never had. One image for the imagination.

The edges have worn soft over the years. The image faded, the faces blurred beyond recognition. Two figures stood side by side, but time had stolen anything that might have made them real.

Her parents. Well, that's what she assumed.

No names.

No date.

No proof.

Only the words on the back.

Her fingers brushed over them lightly, tracing each letter as if they might feel different one day.

You are not just a wolf, child… you are what the moon left behind.

A strange warmth flickered low in her chest.

Gone almost as quickly as it came.

Briar stilled.

Then shook her head once and slid the photo back into the drawer. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.

The pack was already awake. And louder than usual.

Briar moved quickly through the lower halls, a basket of linens balanced against her hip, her head lowered as voices drifted down from above. Not intentionally listening because that would be disrespectful, but hearing no less.

“They confirmed it this morning.”

“He’s already passed through two territories.”

“He’ll be here any day.”

A pause.

“They’re preparing the presentation.”

Another voice, quieter— “The Alpha King is searching for his mate.”

Briar’s steps remained steady. But something inside her shifted. Not enough to name. Just enough to notice.

The Alpha King.

Even in the lowest ranks, the title carried weight.

He ruled all territories. All packs.

The strongest wolf alive. Residing in the Kingdom of Laphoria.

Briar adjusted her grip on the basket, focusing on the rhythm of her steps. This had nothing to do with her. It never would. Impossible for a transplant to be mated to anything more. She would be lucky to find a mate at all.

“Briar.”

Her name cut cleanly through the noise. She stopped instantly. When the Alpha called, you dropped everything to answer.

Alpha Maddic Black stood at the base of the upper stairs, his presence silencing the surrounding space without effort.

Dark. Commanding.

He looked cleaner today. More put together than usual. No doubt preparing.

His dark blonde hair slicked back and his face smoother than usual. Things were unchanged, tone and his unfortunate scowl. His eyes locked onto hers for a fraction of a second before she lowered her gaze. No eye contact allowed.

“Come here.”

Briar obeyed. She didn't have a choice. Each step toward him felt measured, careful. Controlled.

Always controlled.

She stopped several feet away. “Yes, Alpha.”

“You’ve heard.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, Alpha.”

He watched her for a moment too long. As if waiting for something. Something she didn’t know how to give. Honestly, she didn't have anything else to give him, he already had everything — her.

“You understand what this means for this pack.”

“I do.” she nodded.

“Then say it.”

Briar’s fingers tightened slightly around the fabric in her hands. “I am to serve.”

Maddic’s expression didn’t change. Unsatisfied. “More.”

Her voice remained steady. “I am to remain unseen.”

A beat passed. “Continue.” he was getting annoyed.

“I will meet every need before it is spoken,” she said. “I will not speak unless addressed. I will not draw attention. I will not be noticed.”

Silence. Then— “Good.” He stepped closer, his presence pressing down on her. “When the Alpha King arrives, there will be no flaws. Not in this territory. Not in my pack.” Using every fiber to be as intimidating as possible. But he really didn't have to try, he just was. Briar had been on the receiving end for so long, he was intimidating. She knew what he was capable of. He reeked of whiskey and cigars. The closer he got, the more potent it was.

“Yes, Alpha.” Briar meekly responded, forcing herself not to take a step back.

“You will be where you are needed,” he continued. “You will anticipate, adjust, correct. You will make yourself useful.”

“I will.”

His gaze sharpened. “And you will remember what you are.”

Briar didn’t hesitate. “A transplant.” The word tasted like nothing.

Maddic’s lip curled slightly. “Exactly. No one.” He leaned in just enough that she could feel the weight of his next words. “If you are seen where you do not belong… if you draw even the slightest attention to yourself…”

His eyes flicked briefly to her mouth—still faintly swollen from the night before. A reminder he is capable of much more than a busted lip. “You will not be forgiven twice.”

Her pulse remained steady. “I understand, Alpha”

He held her there for one more second. Then turned away. Just like that.

Briar exhaled slowly once he was gone. Not relief. Just… release.

She had learned early what it meant to be seen. The orphanage had taught her that.

Small rooms. Too many children. Not enough food. Attention was never a good thing.

The first time she’d asked about the photograph, she had been ignored.

The second time— Punished.

Questions meant defiance.

Defiance meant correction.

So she stopped asking. It wasn't worth the pain that could be inflicted.

By the time she was old enough to be moved into a pack, she already knew the rules.

Stay quiet.

Stay small.

Stay useful.

Transplants didn’t belong in the pack. They just existed.

That was all.

Most wolves felt their wolf early. A pull beneath the skin. An instinct to run, to shift, to hunt.

Briar had watched others change for the first time—watched the excitement, the pride, the way they were celebrated.

She had waited for it.

Expected it.

Feared it.

But it never came.

Or if it had— It had been forced so far down she no longer recognized it.

Transplants weren’t encouraged to shift. Sometimes, even forbidden. And those who showed too much—

Were reminded of their place.

Harshly.

Repeatedly.

Until there was nothing left to show.

Briar had learned not to feel for it at all. But today…She paused in the hallway, the basket still balanced in her arms.

That same faint warmth returned.

Soft.

Barely there.

But this time—It didn’t disappear right away.

It lingered.

Like something just beneath the surface.

Something…

listening.

Her breath caught.

For a split second, the words from the photograph echoed in her mind.

You are not just a wolf, child…

Briar’s grip tightened.

“No,” she whispered under her breath.

It wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

Above her, the pack buzzed with anticipation.

Preparing.

Watching.

Waiting.

Because the Alpha King was coming.

And with him—Everything would change. She didn't realize it yet.

Briar lowered her head and kept walking.

Silent.

Unseen.

Just like she was meant to be.

But deep beneath the quiet…

Something had begun to stir.

And this time—

It didn’t feel like it would go back to sleep.