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Fated to My Forbidden Alpha – Episode 07
Nightwind’s convoy was scheduled to leave before sunrise, but the packhouse had not slept. Warriors checked the armored vehicles beneath courtyard lights, security teams reviewed the mountain route, and servants loaded ceremonial gifts into weatherproof trunks. The visit required the precision of a military operation disguised as a social courtesy. Everyone understood that when Alexander Kane crossed another pack’s border, the country paid attention.
Inside the council hall, Alexander stood before a map of werewolf territories. His gaze rested on Blood Moon, a dark shape several hundred miles east. Two separate obligations drew him there: a life debt owed to a grieving father and a bond his wolf insisted waited somewhere inside Jackson’s domain.
Soon, Alexander thought. The word carried through him with the same steady certainty as the pull beneath his ribs. By the following night, he would be close enough to distinguish truth from instinct—and perhaps close enough to give a face to the presence haunting his sleep.
Beta Drake entered carrying a leather folder. “The route is secured. Advance scouts found no unusual movement, and Jackson has approved the Nightwind guard detail.” Alexander nodded without turning from the map. “Good.”
Drake lingered beside the table. “There is one more thing.” Alexander’s mouth tightened faintly. “There always is.” His Beta opened the folder to reveal inventories, formal correspondence, and a page covered with suggested gifts for the engagement couple.
Rare wine, silver-forged ceremonial blades, and proposed trade concessions filled the list. Political offerings, each chosen to communicate exactly as much respect as Nightwind intended. Alexander glanced over them. “Send something decent. We accepted their hospitality; we won’t arrive looking petty.”
Drake blinked at the easy answer. “You want to be generous to Jackson?” Alexander finally looked at him, his expression unreadable. “We keep our friends close.” A faint, dangerous smile touched his lips. “And men who may be hiding abducted children even closer.”
The reminder chilled the room. Blood Moon believed Alexander was attending a social celebration. In truth, he intended to examine its leaders, records, and territory for anything connected to the disappearance of Ethel’s daughter.
He also intended to find the woman linked to him by an increasingly undeniable bond. Whether those two searches were connected, he could not yet know. The missing girl would now be a young woman, perhaps hidden under another name and unaware of her blood. His mate, too, felt frightened and isolated whenever the connection opened. Fate had pointed both mysteries toward Jackson’s territory, and Alexander trusted patterns more than coincidence.
“Understood.” Drake closed the gift list, then produced a second folder with visible reluctance. Several glossy photographs slid onto the table. Alexander recognized the subject before his Beta spoke. “No.”
“You haven’t looked at them.” Drake arranged the portraits anyway. Each showed a beautiful she-wolf from a powerful bloodline, posed to display the grace, confidence, and breeding political advisers considered essential in a Luna.
“The Silverfang Alpha’s daughter,” Drake began, tapping the first image. Alexander dismissed her without a glance. The next commanded her own warrior division; the third had been educated from childhood as a Luna candidate. Each received the same answer.
Drake leaned both hands on the table. “Can you at least pretend to consider one?” Alexander folded his arms. “Why would I waste everyone’s time?” His Beta exhaled, summoning courage for an argument they had repeated too often.
“Because you’re thirty.” Alexander’s eyes narrowed. “Twenty-nine.” Drake waved away the distinction. “Nearly thirty, unmated, with no Luna and no heir. The elders complain, allies ask questions, and rivals have started inventing explanations.”
The pressure was real. Most Alphas who failed to find their fated mates eventually formed chosen bonds or political marriages. Alexander had done neither, holding to a certainty he could never prove—that somewhere, the soul meant for him still waited. He had attended ceremonies beside accomplished women and felt nothing beyond respect. Each polite rejection had created another offended family and another rumor for his council to contain.
Every year had made that faith more expensive. A Luna would stabilize succession, strengthen alliances, and silence speculation. Without an acknowledged heir, even loyal elders worried about what would follow if Alexander died in battle. Yet accepting another woman meant closing a door his wolf refused to abandon, and Alexander had not built Nightwind by betraying his deepest instincts for convenience.
“If Blood Moon realizes you remain unmated,” Drake continued, “Jackson may interpret it as weakness.” Alexander’s expression settled into dangerous calm. “Let him.” No title or borrowed bloodline had created his authority. He had earned it in every battle, judgment, and choice.
“I am Alexander Kane,” he said simply. The statement was neither boast nor threat. It was fact, and the finality in his voice ended the discussion more effectively than anger could have.
Drake rubbed his forehead. “I tried.” Alexander returned his attention to the map. “You did.” When Drake added that he had failed, Alexander’s rare hint of amusement made the Beta immediately suspicious.
“Why are you smiling?” Drake asked. Alexander walked to the window overlooking the moonlit mountains. His wolf stirred beneath his skin, no longer pacing in frustration but vibrating with anticipation.
