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Fated to My Forbidden Alpha – Episode 02
Fifteen years had passed, yet Alpha Ethel could still remember the exact weight of his daughter in his arms. Selene had been small enough to tuck beneath his chin, always reaching for the silver clasp on his uniform with curious fingers. Now he possessed only memories and a painted likeness above the fireplace in Bloodwind’s council chamber.
Rain lashed the tall windows, blurring the mountains beyond them. Maps, patrol reports, and portraits of former Alphas covered the stone walls, but Ethel saw none of those things. His gaze remained fixed on the little girl in the painting—the bright eyes, the joyful smile, the face untouched by the night that had torn his family apart.
Advisers had urged him to accept the likely truth. There had been no ransom demand, no confirmed sighting, no trail that lasted beyond the first week. There had not even been a body to bury. To the council, that absence was proof of death; to a father, it was the only reason hope remained possible.
The Blood Moon Pack had struck Bloodwind fifteen years earlier, pouring across the border beneath a moon stained red by smoke. By dawn, the enemy had retreated and the dead had been counted. Selene’s nursery stood empty, its window broken, and every guard assigned to the eastern wing had been slaughtered.
Ethel had searched battlefields, rogue settlements, and human cities. He had paid trackers, questioned prisoners, and followed rumors across half the country, only to watch each lead dissolve. Still, whenever others spoke of Selene in the past tense, something fierce inside him rejected the words.
“Where are you, little moon?” he whispered, using the name he had called her as a child. Lightning flashed beyond the glass, briefly illuminating the grief carved into his face. He had aged in those fifteen years, but the wound had not. It had simply learned to hide beneath duty.
Bootsteps sounded outside the chamber. A warrior entered, rain darkening the shoulders of his uniform, and bowed. “The convoy is ready, Alpha. Nightwind has confirmed your audience.” Ethel took one last look at the portrait before fastening his cloak.
“Good.” His voice no longer carried a grieving father’s tremor. It held an Alpha’s command. Today he would call in the greatest debt owed to him, and someone would finally force Blood Moon to answer. Whether the result was justice or vengeance mattered less than the truth.
Hours later, Nightwind’s grand council hall surrounded him with quiet power. Its black stone pillars bore the claw marks of generations, and guards stood along the walls with disciplined stillness. Nightwind was the strongest pack in the country; even the air inside its seat of rule seemed to understand that fact.
At the far end of a massive oak table sat Alexander Kane. He wore no crown and needed none. The Alpha’s golden eyes were calm, his posture almost relaxed, yet every wolf in the chamber remained attuned to the smallest shift of his expression.
“Fifteen years,” Ethel began. He had rehearsed a measured appeal during the journey, but the sight of Blood Moon’s territory on the map between them stripped away his restraint. “For fifteen years, I have woken without knowing whether my daughter is alive, suffering, or buried in an unmarked grave.”
Alexander folded his hands on the table. “Tell me what you are asking of Nightwind.” His tone held neither impatience nor false sympathy, and that steadiness allowed Ethel to keep speaking.
“I’m asking you to honor your promise.” The words tightened the room. Years earlier, during a territorial war, Ethel had dragged a wounded Alexander out of an ambush and held the line until Nightwind reinforcements arrived. Alexander had sworn that the debt would one day be repaid.
Ethel planted both palms on the map. “Blood Moon attacked us. When they withdrew, Selene was gone. They deny taking her, but no child vanishes from a guarded nursery without help. Jackson inherited their lies along with their territory, and his pack has refused every demand for a proper investigation.”
Alexander’s Beta shifted beside him. “You’re accusing an established pack of abducting an Alpha’s heir. If Nightwind intervenes without evidence, every alliance in the region will feel the consequences.” His caution was justified, but it scraped across Ethel’s rawest nerve.
“I had evidence once.” Ethel struck the table hard enough to rattle its carved markers. “Witnesses died. Records disappeared. Messengers never returned. Blood Moon knows what happened, and their silence has protected them for fifteen years.” His voice cracked, but he did not lower it. “I am asking you to break that silence.”
For several breaths, Alexander said nothing. He studied the man across from him, seeing beyond the anger to the exhaustion beneath it. This was not an Alpha seeking territory or using grief as an excuse for war. It was a father who had spent half a lifetime walking toward a door everyone else insisted was sealed.
Alexander rose, and the chamber seemed to contract around him. “I will investigate Blood Moon.” His wolf stirred beneath the promise, lending it a quiet menace. “If they have hidden your daughter or destroyed the truth of what happened to her, they will answer to Nightwind.”
Relief struck Ethel so swiftly that he had to brace himself against the table. “You mean it?” Hope made him look older and younger at once. Alexander inclined his head. A life debt, once claimed, could not be repaid with empty assurances.
After Ethel departed, rain continued to drum against the windows. Alexander stood before the map, tracing the long stretch of wilderness between Nightwind and Blood Moon. His Beta waited until the chamber doors closed before approaching.
