Mated to the Two Warring Alphas

Once Upon a Princess

𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀

~~~

I was a princess until I wasn't.

My eyes tear up as I stare at the 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘥—the gate to the Arid Pack.

My birth Pack.

After a long while arguing and pleading with them, my parents had autonomously agreed to allow me stay the night, but must leave at first light—which was hours ago.

Sighing, I wipe my tears and jerk my horse.

"Must you leave?" Luna Fayra asks from beside me.

I turn to look at her.

She looks ethereal on her white horse. Her blond hair is tied in a complex style above her head, decorated with gold beads and an assortment of gemstones.

Her porcelain skin is leaning into a darker shade now—compliments of the desert—but it suits her beautifully.

Somehow, she had found out about my exile and came to see me first thing this morning.

"You know I must." I chuckle, hiding my pain.

"Kizil and I can give you a place in the Pack House," she presses on, her voice soft and welcoming.

I sigh. "That's putting me right in my parents' territory."

She knows this.

My father is the Beta, placing me in the Pack House is like laying me out for him on a gold platter.

"Kizil can handle Beta Thane."

Of course. I nod, swallowing my reply.

My father is the most selfish and ambitious man that I know. Alpha Kizil's intervention won't help me in any way.

My hands tighten around the reins of my horse as the memories of my fourteenth birthday rush back to the surface. It was one hell of an occasion, and it marked the beginning of the downturn of my entire life.

My parents had thrown the most lavish ball in my name, happy to show their daughter off, and hopefully start winning favours in her name.

They presented me to Alpha Soraya for the bite that would kick-start my journey into becoming a shifter.

On the next full moon, as I was caged in the Alpha House to keep me from hurting anybody in my 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 phase, I wasn't able to make my transformation. This was reported back to my father, and my Omega status was declared.

My dear father and mother—Lord and Lady Thane—didn't delay in casting me aside and turning their backs, throwing me to the slums of the Pack where I endured bullying for years.

No matter how much I begged for mercy, they always turned a blind eye. The family name was better off if it doesn't associate with a lowly abomination.

Even when the Pack dynamics started to shift after Fay became the Luna, my parents remained cold.

Fayra was only a Wolfless slave when she came to the pack, yet Alpha Kizil married her and crowned her his Luna.

But my parents didn't see reason to soften toward me. In fact, they despised me more afterwards.

Mother was furious, saying I allowed Fay 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 Kizil from my grasp. Kizil was never in it!!

I used to have an open crush on him, and they knew. Everybody knew about it.

Yet they never thought to help me get close to him—they said it was a given. But when he fell for another, it's suddenly my fault, and I should have taken my chance.

Oh, how much I hated Fayra.

She was my friend, but I despised her.

It took a long while of self-loath and guilt, but I grew past the hate and bitterness that was fed to me by none other than my parents.

"You seriously don't have a destination?" My little brother—Sohan—questions from beside me. "You need to have, at least, one in mind."

Nope. I have none.

But I pull up a tight smile. "I will figure something out, Han."

He doesn't seem too comfortable with that, but he doesn't complain either.

My eyes rest on his face—that handsome face that he took after our father. I had decided to leave without letting him know, I didn't want him fighting with our parents again, but Fay made sure that he came to see me off. I can't be more thankful.

After my entire family turned on me, Sohan remained the only member of the Thane clan that was steadfast behind me. The only one who fought for me and cared for me.

Sighing, I look straight ahead. I might not have a destination in mind yet, but I am certain I would find somewhere much better than here—somewhere more conducive and welcoming. Where I haven't pissed off half the pack members in the delusions of being the Beta's 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳.

I might even find my mate.

The thought alone makes my heart flutter. The thought of being with my mate—the thought of a happily ever after.

At this point, I have accepted that not everybody is as fortunate as Luna Fayra.

Whatever status my mate is, be it a lowly gutter wolf or an Omega, I would accept it and build with him.

But if it turns out to be a high-ranking wolf, I'd come back and ruin the Thanes—save for my brother—I promise it.

"Yah!"

I look up to find a sandstorm spreading across the horizon in front of us.

Riders.

As they approach us, their faces become clear. Alpha Kizil is at the head of the gang, racing his majestic white stallion with ease.

The Luna halts, and so do we, waiting for him to reach our position.

Just a few feet away from us, he lifts his hand in the air, motioning for his entourage to stop while he proceeds alone.

Beautiful brown skin and otherworldly honey eyes—he looks like a personification of Lord Aster—only darker, if that's possible.

He rides to Fayra's side and leans over to place a passionate kiss on her lips.

My heart does that irritating twisting again, and I despise myself for being envious of their relationship even after all these months—even after Fayra has remained a faithful friend until the end.

"How's my love doing?" Kizil asks, his attention focused only on his beautiful Luna.

I tear my eyes away, trying to hide my contempt.

As the Beta's daughter, Kizil and I practically grew up together. Played together. Ate at the same table, and rode together.

Kizil was always kind to me, before, and even after, I found out about my Omega status.

I thought we were meant to be. But Fayra showed up—a lowly slave—yet he loved, and is still in love with her.

"Nuraya!"

My head zaps back, my eyes wide as I look from my brother to the two lovebirds.

"What?" I ask Han, who had called me.

"The Alpha asked you something."

My eyes dart towards Kizil, and I bow slightly. "Forgive my lack of concentration."

He ignores that.

"You really do mean to leave?" His forehead creases, brows drawn together. "I was hoping you'd change your mind."

I pull another fake smile. "I'm afraid that's not possible, Your Eminence. I need to find my roots."

"But this is your roots," he presses on, and I wish he hadn't returned from his scout.

I look away, avoiding him.

He gets the message and sighs. "Well, if you must, then you have my full support."

"Thank you," my voice is low, tears clogging my vocals.

"Be careful, though."

I turn to look at him, my brows furrowed.

"Do you know much about Rabids?" He asks, his face hardening.

𝘙𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘥𝘴.

They are wolves consumed by madness—feral creatures stripped of reason and loyalty. No Pack claims them, no Alpha commands them. They wander the Wereworld as mindless predators, forever trapped in their beast form, driven by instinct alone: to hunt and kill.

My brows crease at him. "What about them?"

He looks to the far west. "One has been making the rounds around here, killing desert wanderers."

A cold sweat breaks across my back, chilling me to the bones. That is not good.

"And it's not just anyone." He continues, oblivious to the goosebumps that are fast spreading across my skin. "It's a revered one, known as the 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘍𝘶𝘳𝘺."

"The Fury?" My brother cuts in—rude, but Kizil couldn't care less. "It's the most dangerous—"

"Enough." I stop him before he feeds my fear even more. "Don't even start on how I shouldn't take this journey."

"But you shouldn't," Fayra says, her voice, ever elegant. "Rabids are mindless destroyers—plus, you refuse to take any guards."

"I can handle myself," I press on, stubbornly.

She tries to argue, but Kizil speaks first. "We all know how stubborn Raya can be, so no need to argue."

He pulls his horse to action and rides up next to me. The proximity does things to me that I hate.

"Once you get to the river, stay on its trail. And if you hear growling in the dark, don’t check it out. Just run."

I nod, gulping down the clog in my throat.

"If you perceive their stench, find a burrow to hide, a small burrow, of course. And most importantly," he shoots me a look, "𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘥."

My hands tighten on the reins as I listen to him, my expression bland.

Only if he knew how prepared I am to die.