Continue the Story
Fated to My Forbidden Alpha – Episode 03
Selene stood outside Alpha Jackson’s office with her hand raised, trying to quiet the pulse beating in her throat. His summons had reached her in the laundry room without explanation. Jackson rarely noticed her unless a task was unpleasant enough for everyone else to avoid, and being called to the Alpha wing never ended well for a servant.
Muffled laughter slipped through the heavy door before she could knock. She recognized Tiffany’s bright, practiced voice, followed by Jackson’s lower reply. Heat crept over Selene’s face. Of course Tiffany was with him; wherever Jackson’s favor gathered, Tiffany made certain she occupied its center.
Selene lowered her hand, uncertain whether to wait. The messenger had ordered her to report immediately, and Jackson punished delay as readily as interruption. Drawing a careful breath, she eased the door open and stepped across the threshold.
The laughter stopped. Jackson looked up from behind his desk while Tiffany turned from where she leaned against its edge, one hand still resting possessively on his shoulder. Their silence struck Selene harder than an accusation. “I—” she began, wishing she could retreat before either of them spoke.
Jackson’s expression hardened. “What the hell are you doing?” Alpha authority roughened his voice, filling the office with pressure. Selene instinctively dropped her gaze, though resentment flared beneath the reflex. He had sent for her, yet somehow she had already managed to be wrong.
“You asked to see me, Alpha.” The title tasted bitter. Jackson rose, his height and broad frame making the richly furnished room feel smaller. “And that means you enter without knocking?” he demanded. Selene murmured an apology, aware of Tiffany’s amusement sharpening beside him.
“Maybe she was watching us,” Tiffany suggested. She crossed her arms and examined Selene as if she had discovered dirt on an expensive dress. “That’s what it looked like from here.” Selene’s cheeks burned, not because the accusation held truth, but because Tiffany could turn any harmless mistake into something degrading.
“I wasn’t watching.” Selene kept her answer quiet. Defending herself too strongly would be called insolence; failing to defend herself would be treated as guilt. Blood Moon had taught her that the rules changed whenever cruelty required permission.
Jackson’s eyes remained fixed on her. “You will address me as Alpha.” The command was unnecessary—she already had—but something about her hesitation always seemed to provoke him. “Yes, Alpha,” she replied, meeting his gaze for a fraction of a second before looking away.
His wolf gave a low, unsettled growl beneath his skin. Jackson went still. For years, Selene had occupied the edges of his awareness: a quiet orphan carrying trays, scrubbing steps, and disappearing whenever work allowed. Lately, however, he noticed the sound of her footsteps before she entered and felt her absence after she left.
The change infuriated him because he could neither explain nor control it. She looked no different today, dressed in a plain gray uniform with her hair tied back, yet his attention caught on the fading mark across her cheek. The bruise made his wolf bristle with an anger Jackson refused to examine.
Tiffany saw the shift in his focus. Her smile lost its sweetness as she followed his gaze to Selene. Jackson was not looking at the servant with desire, but curiosity could become interest, and interest was a door Tiffany had no intention of allowing Selene to open.
She stepped between them, breaking the line of sight. “Why is she even here?” Jackson blinked as though dragged from a private thought. His jaw tightened, and when he answered, his voice left no space for argument. “Tiffany, leave us.”
For a moment, Tiffany seemed certain she had misheard him. “Excuse me?” She gave a brittle laugh and touched his arm, waiting for the familiar indulgence that usually followed her displeasure. Jackson removed himself from her reach. “I said leave.”
Hurt flashed nakedly across her face before pride covered it. “You’re choosing her over me?” The question made Selene’s stomach clench. She wanted no part of their quarrel and certainly did not want Tiffany believing she had won something.
“Don’t make this difficult,” Jackson warned. Tiffany stared at him, then turned the full force of her humiliation on Selene. The hatred in her eyes was no longer disguised by mockery; it was cold, personal, and promising.
As Tiffany swept toward the door, she paused close enough for her perfume to crowd Selene’s breath. “You’ll regret this,” she whispered, the words meant for Selene alone. Then she strode into the corridor and slammed the door so hard the framed maps trembled.
An uncomfortable quiet settled over the office. Selene remained beside the door, arms rigid at her sides, while Jackson moved to the window overlooking the training grounds. He appeared to study the warriors below, but his reflection in the glass kept watching her.
“Your eighteenth birthday is in three days,” he said at last. Selene’s head lifted before she could hide her surprise. No one in Blood Moon celebrated her birthday. She had not realized anyone knew the date, least of all the Alpha who usually behaved as if her existence inconvenienced him.
“Yes, Alpha.” Unease threaded through her answer. Jackson turned from the window, studying her with an intensity that made her want to step back. “Have you felt anything strange?” he asked. “Dizziness, pain, changes in your senses?”


