THE ALPHA’S FIERY FATE CHAPTER 10

☠️𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑳𝑷𝑯𝑨’𝑺
𝑭𝑰𝑬𝑹𝒀 𝑭𝑨𝑻𝑬🔥
{𝑩𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒚 𝑭𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔}

Written By, 𝐀𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧_𝐀𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞

𖣘𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟎𖣘
{𝑩𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒔}
─━━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━─

𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐄𝐇

The aroma of freshly brewed tea and warm pastries fills the spacious dining hall. The morning sun filters through the grand windows, casting golden streaks across the dark mahogany table where Kane and I sit. My plate is stacked high with eggs, toast, and crispy bacon, while Kane’s remains almost untouched—except for his steaming cup of tea, which he occasionally sips from, watching me with mild amusement.

I ignore his stare and focus on my food. The warmth of the eggs, the crunch of the toast—it grounds me, gives me something to focus on besides the strange, brooding man across from me.

Kane sets his cup down with a quiet clink.

“How old are you?” he asks smoothly.

I swallow a bite of toast before answering.

“Twenty.”

He hums, his expression unreadable.

“Do you have siblings?”

My hand pauses over my plate, surprised by the question.

“Yes. An older brother and a younger sister.”

“Your parents?” Kane raises a brow.

“They’re alive.” I hesitate. “At least, the last time I saw them.”

His fingers tap against his cup.

“And when was that?”

I frown, shifting slightly.

“Before Darius took me.”

“Why did you become a rogue?” he asks another annoying question.

“That’s none of your business” I tense, gripping my fork tighter.

Kane simply lifts his cup, his gaze never leaving mine.

“You’re right” he murmurs before taking a slow sip of tea. “That means you don’t belong to any pack.”

I clench my jaw, stabbing a piece of bacon with unnecessary force.

“You’re observant” I respond.

His lips twitch.

“That also means you had no one to guide you through your first shift.”

I still, my appetite vanishing.

Kane sets his cup down.

“You’re twenty” he utters. “Which means you’ve long passed the age of your first shift. Though it seems you haven’t done so before.”

My heart kicks against my ribs. My fingers curl around my fork, but I don’t take another bite.

“How do you know that?” I lift my eyes to him, guarded.

Kane leans back in his chair, his expression calm.

“I don’t sense your wolf.” He studies me as if I were a puzzle he had just solved. “And back in the woods, you couldn’t shift to escape. Any wolf, even an inexperienced one, would have tried. But you didn’t. That was a clue.”

I drop my gaze, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip.

A scoff breaks the silence.

“Not only are you a rogue…” He sneers, “but you’re also one who can’t shift. Double the burden.”

Heat rushes to my face, but it isn’t embarrassment—it’s anger. I lift my gaze, glaring at him.

“And you…” I shoot back, “are an insufferable @$$!”

“Watch your tone, rogue.” His eyes darken instantly.

I slam my fork down, the clang echoing through the hall.

“Who the hell do you think you are, looking down on me? Just because I’m not some big, bad alpha like you doesn’t mean you get to—”

“Enough.” Kane’s voice is swift as a whip, but when I don’t back down, his expression hardens.

“You do not raise your Fuçking voice at me!” he barks.

The sheer force of his tone sends shivers all over my body. My breath catches, and before I can stop myself, I swallow hard.

A tense silence hangs between us.

With a defiant lift of my chin, I meet his gaze.

“Then maybe you should learn not to insult the only person at this table who actually finished their breakfast” I utter.

Kane’s gaze darkens with something unreadable before he smirks.

“How delusional you must be to think you were the first” he replies.

I blink. His reply definitely catches me off guard.

••••••

Later that morning, after Kane storms off with a swirl of his long coat and a clenched jaw, I find myself in the east corridor near the kitchens. I didn’t plan to wander, but my mind is buzzing—haunted by Kane’s words:

“How delusional you must be to think you were the first.”

First what?

I spot Greta organizing trays of folded linens on a table near the servant quarters. She looks composed as always, her salt-and-pepper hair pulled tightly into a bun and her uniform pressed to perfection.

“Greta” I call, approaching cautiously.

She looks up with a polite smile.

“Miss Nevaeh. Can I help you with something?”

I hesitate. “Can we talk? Just for a moment?”

She gives a slight nod, gesturing toward a quiet corner where the bustle of the kitchen fades into the background.

“Of course.”

I take a breath, heart racing.

“Did… did Kane ever have a mate before?” I let the question slip out.

Greta’s hands pause mid-fold, and for a flicker of a second, something unreadable passes through her eyes.

“That’s not something I’m allowed to discuss.”

“You know, don’t you?” I press gently. “He said something to me at breakfast, and I—he made it sound like I wasn’t the first. I just… I need to understand what that means.”

Greta inhales slowly, then resumes folding.

“You ask many questions, Miss” she replies.

“I know” I whisper. “But there are so many pieces that don’t fit. The way he looks at me, the anger, the… pain. It’s like he’s battling something I don’t see. And now I’m starting to wonder if it’s about her.”

Greta’s hands freeze again, and this time, she sets the linens down. She turns to face me fully.

“There are rules in this household” she says quietly but firmly. “Certain topics are… off-limits. The Alpha’s past is one of them.”

“But I just want to understand—”

“I know” she says, a little softer this time. “But it is not my place to keep digging up stories the Alpha himself has buried.”

I open my mouth to argue again, but Greta raises her hand gently.

“Curiosity may be natural, but here… it can also be dangerous.”

Her eyes hold mine meaningfully, and the quiet warning in them is clear.

“I won’t speak of it again” she asserts, turning back to her linens. “And I suggest—for your own peace—you do the same.”

A tight knot forms in my chest. I nod slowly, though the questions continue to scream inside me.

𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐄

The wind howls through the cliffs behind the estate, but I barely notice. The balcony off my study overlooks the forest—a dark sea of trees swaying beneath a silver sky. I stand there in silence, one hand gripping the cold stone railing, the other clutching a crystal tumbler of untouched whiskey.

I can still feel her stare.
Nevaeh. All fire and defiance at breakfast.

The girl is impossible to ignore.

She isn’t like the others. She didn’t shrink in fear or worship. She challenged. She questioned. She reminded me of—

“Your mood’s gone to hell again, Alpha.”

I don’t turn. I know that voice too well.

Lyall steps onto the balcony with his usual swagger and crossed arms. His hair is slicked back, his tailored black coat fluttering lightly in the breeze.

“What do you want?” I ask, eyes fixed on the treetops.

“You summoned me.”

I drain the glass with a grimace and set it down hard on the edge.

“Right.” I rub the back of my neck. “I need you to keep an eye on her.”

“Nevaeh?” Lyall’s brow arches. “The little rogue with the pretty mouth and temper to match?”

I shoot him a warning look.

He holds up his hands.

“Easy, Alpha. Just an observation.”

“She’s not… normal” I mutter, returning my gaze to the woods. “She didn’t shift. She didn’t even try. It’s like her wolf’s asleep, or trapped—or worse.”

Lyall leans against the stone column beside me.

“Could be trauma. Rogues don’t exactly have peaceful upbringings.”

“It’s more than that” I say tightly. “There’s something off. Something familiar.”

That catches his attention. “Familiar?”

“She has a mark” I say, voice low. “On her shoulder. I saw it the night I brought her in. The crescent over the thorned circle.”

“That symbol’s been dead for years.” Lyall’s eyes widen slightly.

“No” I reply. “It’s back. On her.”

He goes quiet, tension thickening between us like a storm cloud.

“You think it’s starting again?” he asks.

I don’t answer.

“I read about the mark a long time ago” he mentions.

“Where?” I ask, curious.

“In the old texts. The forbidden ones buried beneath the Lunar Archives.”

“The ones locked away after the Sacred Wolf Wars?” My brow furrows, and he nods.

“They weren’t just stories. That mark… the crescent over the thorned circle—it belongs to the Velmire Wolves.”

The name echoes, ancient and heavy.

“They were said to be born under a Blood Moon Eclipse” Lyall goes on. “Chosen. Dangerous. Forgotten.”

Rogue. A Velmire?

“She’s not—she can’t be—” I snap.

“But what if she is?” Lyall steps closer. “What if the goddess never ended it? What if this girl is the next phase?”

I look down at my hand, the faint scar on my palm pulsing with heat. The mark had never truly faded—only quieted… waiting.

“I want to know everything about her” I demand. “Her lineage. Her bloodline. I don’t care how many records you have to dig through. I want answers.”

Lyall nods slowly, but his eyes never leave my face.

“You’re starting to care about her.”

“Care, my foot.” I turn swiftly.

“No?” He gives a humorless chuckle. “Because the last time you cared, the whole pack bled for it.”

He’s right—but that would never repeat itself.

“She doesn’t even know what she is” I mutter.

“That’s what makes it worse” Lyall responds. “If her wolf awakens and she doesn’t know how to control it…”

“Find out what she is,” I cut him off darkly, “before she becomes the unthinkable.”