Fated to My Forbidden Alpha – Episode 16
The night after the chandelier attack brought no true rest to Blood Moon. Guards doubled their patrols, servants whispered behind locked doors, and every settling beam made someone glance toward the ceiling. Healers checked every injured worker twice, while investigators sealed the storage wing behind armed guards. The packhouse had returned to order only in appearance.
Selene lay awake in the infirmary, staring at pale moonlight across the ceiling. Each time she closed her eyes, the iron chandelier fell again. She heard Alexander shout, felt his arm close around her waist, and imagined the crushed body she would have left behind if he had arrived one heartbeat later. The healer called her injuries minor, but terror had left bruises no salve could touch.
“Lyla,” she whispered into the quiet. Her wolf answered immediately, a warm presence beneath the lingering fear. I’m here. Selene pressed a hand to her chest. “Why does everything feel worse now that I finally have you?”
Lyla paused before replying. Because the truth is getting closer. The answer chilled Selene more than the night air. She had spent years believing truth would free her; now every discovery seemed to expose another danger.
“What truth?” she asked. Lyla did not answer directly. Instead, she spoke of the three Alpha presences now connected to Selene: Jackson through the first mate bond, Alexander through an impossible second bond, and Ethel through something carried in scent and blood.
Selene pushed herself upright. “Three Alphas cannot be connected to one servant.” The final word sounded increasingly false. Servant described the labor Blood Moon demanded, not the blood she carried or the woman she might become. Lyla’s concern deepened. You are measuring yourself by the story Blood Moon gave you. That story may be the least truthful thing about us.
In the main hall, Jackson stood with his back to the investigators while workers cataloged the chandelier fragments. The attack had shaken his authority as thoroughly as the manor. Someone had prepared a murder beneath his roof, bypassed his guards, and chosen Selene as the target.
Alexander had saved her again. That fact scraped against Jackson’s pride, but beneath jealousy lay something more difficult to confront: gratitude. Jackson had felt her panic through the bond and still arrived too late. Without his rival, the mate Jackson intended to reject would be dead, and no amount of Alpha power could have reversed that failure.
Luke approached with the preliminary report. “The support was weakened deliberately, and the final rope was pulled from the upper landing. This was sabotage.” Jackson’s fists clenched. “Who had access?”
“Servants, senior household staff, and anyone involved in dismantling the party.” Luke hesitated. No outsider had entered the storage wing, and the attacker knew exactly where patrols would be thin. “Everything points to someone inside Blood Moon.”
Alpha power rolled from Jackson in a cold wave. “Find them.” Luke bowed, but before leaving, he followed Jackson’s gaze toward the infirmary corridor. He could not tell whether his Alpha’s anger belonged more to the hidden murderer or the Nightwind Alpha who kept reaching Selene first.
Outside, Alexander stood on a balcony overlooking the moonlit trees. Wind moved through the branches, carrying faint traces of Selene’s scent from an open infirmary window. The bond pulsed beneath his ribs, stronger after the rescue and no less impossible.
Drake joined him with an update from Nightwind’s researchers. No known law of mate magic explained two living Alpha bonds forming around one awakened wolf. “Jackson still refuses to clarify what he knew,” the Beta said. “And Ethel has disappeared into the archives.”
“They are both hiding something.” Alexander’s wolf growled agreement. The connection to Selene reacted whenever Jackson approached her, but it also seemed intertwined with older power now stirring in her blood. That third presence carried neither romantic claim nor rivalry. It felt ancestral.
“Something about her was buried,” Alexander said. “Not merely her name.” Drake thought of the silver energy that had answered Selene during the attack and admitted Nightwind’s archives might contain older mate lore. Whatever slept inside her was old enough to bend rules every wolf considered absolute. If it awakened without guidance, the consequences could reach beyond the three people caught in its bonds.
In the infirmary, a sharp pulse drove Selene’s breath from her lungs. She caught the edge of the mattress. “Lyla!” The wolf steadied her quickly. This is not an injury. It is a call.
The sensation traveled through her bones like a distant voice striking a tuning fork. “A call from whom?” Selene asked. Lyla listened, unable—or unwilling—to name its source. Before she could answer, someone spoke from the doorway.
“Are you all right?” Alexander stood beyond the threshold, calm and controlled, though concern sharpened his golden eyes. He had knocked softly, but Selene’s attention had been turned inward.
She instinctively drew back. “I’m fine.” The lie sounded weak after the pulse. Alexander remained by the door rather than entering without permission. “You shouldn’t be alone after someone tried to kill you.”
“I’m used to being alone.” The words came out sharper than she intended. Pain flickered across Alexander’s face—not offense, but recognition of what her answer revealed. Blood Moon had taught her that solitude was safer than depending on anyone.
