Alana's day had been busier than most. As one of the pack doctors, she was held in high regard. Yet, among the staff, she was looked upon as the lead healer, a position that flattered her deeply. Her status as the Beta's wife granted her an increase of power around her peers—something she'd never thought she would possess.
Born to simple wolves, Alana's family was unremarkable; none were extraordinary, nor did they strive to be anything more than ordinary pack members. Every pack had its unambitious types, those who lived without making any ripples. Alana had always believed that would be her life. But when she turned sixteen, she finally identified her mate, Boris Carter, a wolf well past the age of maturity who had been waiting for her.
Before her mate, she had been overlooked, but the second their eyes met, it was as if everyone could suddenly see her. It was terrifying, yet exhilarating, and it filled her with probably too much pride. Admittedly, she had been overly boastful in her younger years, before she had truly grasped what it meant to wield power.
Everything felt different after she gave birth to Trinity. Her daughter was the embodiment of Alana's former self: simple and less than ordinary. The second she discovered her daughter was defective, it was easy to want to disregard her. Looking at Trinity felt like becoming invisible again, as if she had lost her power—a power she had grown very comfortable with.
She couldn't understand Boris, how he could simply embrace Trinity as if time hadn't passed, disregarding the stigma of a defective in their family bloodline. She begged Boris for more children, hoping for a perfect one, but she never got her way.
"Dr. Carter, Luca is here. He dislocated his shoulder in wolf form, then tried to shift."
One of the nurses relayed the information, whispering the details about the Alpha's son. Only an idiot would try to shift with a dislocated shoulder, and such idiocy wasn't something everyone should hear about. Alana offered the young nurse a composed smile, her back straight and her movements fluid as she followed her to the private room reserved for the Alpha's son. Even if she wasn't considered the most skilled healer in the pack, she was undeniably the most prestigious.
Her heels clicked elegantly on the polished floor as she strode past the reception desk, offering a pleasant, almost imperceptible smile to the ladies seated there. She smoothed down the fabric of her tailored designer outfit, a subtle gesture of self-assurance, not wanting to appear anything less than impeccable in front of the future Alpha, even if he was just a teenager. As she pushed open the plain door, she paused, her senses instantly registering his presence and scent before the door was even fully ajar.
Alana quickly bowed her head, exposing her neck in a gesture of deference. "Alpha Adrian," she murmured, a faint tremor in her voice. She hadn't expected him to be there.
"Mrs. Carter!" Alpha Adrian's voice boomed, though it carried a distinct undercurrent of amusement.
After waiting the appropriate amount of time, Alana slowly raised her head, though her gaze remained fixed on the Alpha's son, Luca. She dared not meet Adrian's eyes, not wanting him to misinterpret it as a challenge to his authority. She held back a look of pity as she approached Luca's side, not wanting to offend the Alpha family. Luca's arm was a grotesque sight; his bones were clearly out of order, and his skin was twisted in a spiral, cutting off proper blood flow to his arm. It was a complete mess. Given his age, she was genuinely shocked he hadn't known better than to attempt to shift with a dislocated limb.
Alpha Adrian watched Alana work, quietly and diligently. A small smirk played at the corners of his lips. She had always been a bit of a mouse; people like her normally never rose to power. When they did, they didn't wear it naturally. He found it amusingly easy to suppress her. All he had to do was exist. He had encouraged his son's need for an infirmary trip today, having heard that Trinity, Alana's daughter, was back home. He wasn't sure if Trinity had changed her mind somehow and decided to rejoin the family, but it was something he did not want to see. He wanted her dead, actually. It would be easier if the child was dead. His best friend since childhood, Boris, had offended him for that "thing."
The bond and loyalty between Beta and Alpha had been shaken by that small, pathetic waste of a wolf, and it was an offense that still stung his skin. He wasn't willing to overlook it. Trinity represented something he could not allow: a shift in loyalties. It was as if common sense no longer mattered to his Beta. This was the problem when a Beta had a child. That mix of loyalties was unacceptable. For an Alpha, it was avoidable. Alphas were allowed to favor their family, to put them at the top, because that was where they belonged. But a Beta did not have that benefit.
"How is your daughter? The defective?" Adrian's question cut through the air, sharp and deliberate.
Alana stiffened, her movements momentarily halting. She didn't know how to answer, unsure what he wanted her to say.
"Distressed, I would imagine," she settled on honesty, knowing there was nothing she could truly hide from the Alpha.
"Hum," was all the Alpha said, but it was clear he expected her to continue.
"Trinity is experiencing her heat, but she does not know what it is. I'm told her scent is potent... for any unmated male to be near her," she blurted out quickly, hoping to impress him, to show her subservience.
Alpha Adrian felt as if she was being boastful. Only the most powerful of she-wolves had a scent so alluring it would drive all who breathed it mad. Yet, she wanted him to believe that a disgusting defective would be able to produce such a scent. "Liar!" he snarled, his amusement vanishing in an instant, replaced by a cold, searing fury that made the air crackle. His hand shot out, a blur of motion, and he slapped Alana across the face with brutal force. The sharp, cracking sound of the blow echoed in the small, private room.
Alana's head snapped back, her body listing with the impact. A thin trickle of blood instantly sprang from the corner of her mouth, and her vision swam. Before she could recover, Adrian's large hand clamped around her throat, his thumb pressing cruelly into her windpipe. He didn't lift her, didn't need to; the sheer weight of his Alpha presence bore her down as if he were holding her underwater.
"How dare you speak lies to your Alpha," he ground out, his voice low and dangerous, a predatory rasp that promised agonizing punishment.
He squeezed, just enough to make her gag, just enough to paint the terror clearly in her wide, pleading eyes.
On the examination table, Luca, the future Alpha, stared intently at the ceiling. His jaw was clenched tight, and the knuckles on his good hand were white, but he did not move, did not speak, and did not lower his gaze. He acted as if the only things in the room were himself and the cracked plaster above his head.
With a final, contemptuous shove that sent her staggering back a half step, Adrian released her. He drew a deep breath, smoothing the front of his shirt as if merely brushing off dust. The entire act of violence lasted only seconds, but the silence afterward was vast and oppressive.
Alana stood perfectly still, her chest heaving as she sucked in desperate gulps of air. The sharp, metallic scent of her own blood filled her mouth, and the throbbing pain in her cheek was all-consuming.
Adrian looked at her, then offered her a charming, yet wholly insincere, smile. "Have you had dinner yet?" he asked, his tone now completely cordial, as if he had just offered her a cup of tea.
Without a second of hesitation, without touching her bruised face, and with the red mark of the Alpha's hand already blossoming on her cheek, Alana straightened her spine.
Her expression wiped clean of any pain or offense, she offered a polite, professional smile that did not reach her eyes.
"Uh, no, Alpha," she spoke hesitantly, her voice regaining its earlier submissive tremor. "I will go home to have dinner after my shift."
"We have not eaten either," he stated plainly, waiting for Alana to do her part.
Her gaze was clear and steady as she looked back at him, the recent violence completely unacknowledged. Ignoring the physical violence, she carried on as if this was a typical pleasant visit and conversation.
"Please, eat with my family," she said, her voice shaky, but now with a practiced politeness that made her seem perfectly composed.
Alpha Adrian's wicked grin widened. "What time should I be there?"