Fated to the Alpha who Hates me

"Did you just put chili oil on strawberries?"

Daniel looked at me like I'd committed a culinary crime.

I grinned, balancing the bowl in one hand as I hopped onto the kitchen counter. "It's a thing. Sweet, spicy, tangy. Try it before you judge."

He raised a skeptical brow, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled to his elbows as he reached for a berry. "If I die, I'm haunting you."

"Don't be dramatic."

He bit into it and paused. Then his eyes widened. "Okay, that's... weirdly good."

I nudged his side with my knee. "Told you."

Our little apartment smelled like roasted coffee and spring rain, windows cracked open to let in the breeze. The city hummed outside-car horns, laughter, a distant siren or two. But in here? It was peace. Warm, humming, real.

Daniel walked over to his laptop, pushing aside a mess of blueprints and client sketches. "Remind me again why you're not bottling your chaos genius into a restaurant?"

"Because chaos genius doesn't pay the bills," I said, hopping down. "But freelance recipe development does."

"You mean, sending spicy berry salad to food bloggers?"

"Exactly."

He laughed, the sound soft and safe and as always it made my stomach flutter.

God, I loved that sound.

Three years ago, I was still scrubbing diner floors and sleeping in a hostel.

Then I met Daniel-the architect who ordered tea instead of coffee and forgot his sketchbook at my booth. He smiled like the sun. He didn't look at me like I was broken.

Now? We shared a rent-controlled apartment with mismatched furniture, a two-burner stove, and a balcony full of struggling herbs. I had a job. Friends. A future.

And a ring on my finger.

He'd proposed last month-on a ferry ride across the bay, with city lights flickering behind him and his hands shaking. I didn't even let him finish the speech.

I said yes because he made me feel like I belonged somewhere.

Like I was human.

I was halfway through editing a new recipe draft when my phone buzzed.

Unknown Number.

I almost didn't answer, but the call came again.

With a sigh I picked it up.

"Hello?"

A pause. Then a voice, rough and unfamiliar came from the speakers , "Ayla Rowan?"

My body went still. No one had called me that name for four years now.

"...Yes?"

"This is Elder Nora. From the Bloodhowl Pack."

If I wasn't sitting down I would have staggered back a few paces.

"I-why are you calling me?"

"It's Mae," she said. "She passed last night. Peacefully."

Oh my dear goddess, "What?"

"Her final wish was that you attend the burial. You were like a daughter to her."

Mae. Gods.

The old wolf who made sure I had soup when I was sick. Who taught me to braid my hair and scolded me gently for stealing honey bread. The only softness I'd known in that place. That hell.

"I don't..." I cleared my throat. "I haven't been back in years. I don't think it's a good idea."

"It's tradition," Nora said. "And respect."

"I'll think about it," I whispered.

The line went dead.

I didn't say anything for the rest of the day. I moved through my routine like a ghost-shopping, cleaning, writing, editing-until night fell and Daniel came home.

He brought Chinese takeout and kissed my forehead.

I didn't kiss him back.

We sat on the couch, some random show playing in the background.

He passed me the rice and I refused to touch it.

"Okay," he said eventually, voice low, "what's going on?"

I stared at the TV, words crowding my throat.

Mae was dead. There's no way I'd refuse going to pay my last respect.

That woman had showed my love when I thought it was impossible to get it.

"Ayla," he said, gently this time. "Talk to me."

"I got a call today." My voice cracked. "From someone I used to know. From... home."

His brows lifted. "You never talk about your home."

"Because it's not a place I like remembering."

He shifted to face me. "Okay. So why now?"

I exhaled, staring at my fingers. "Someone died. Mae. She raised me after my parents were killed. The pack elder called to say I should come to the burial."

"Pack?" Daniel frowned. "Like a community?"

I looked at him, really looked-and knew this moment would change everything between us.

And I had prayed - really wished that this day would never come - the day Daniel would discover that I wasn't human like he thought I was.

"No," I said softly. "Like... wolves."

He blinked. "I'm sorry?"

I stood up, wrapping my arms around myself. "I'm not what you think I am, Daniel."

"Okay..."

"I'm not just a girl who grew up off the grid. I'm a werewolf."

He laughed.

He actually laughed, like I'd cracked a bad joke.

I didn't.

The silence that followed was the loudest thing I'd ever heard.

"You're serious."

"Yes."

He stood too, shaking his head like he could throw the words off. "Come on, Ayla. This isn't funny."

"I'm not joking."

"Werewolves don't exist."

"I exist."

He stared at me like I'd grown horns. "No. No, this is insane. You're telling me... what? You turn into a wolf every full moon?"

"That's not how it works," I said quietly. "We shift. By will. Not the moon. It's-complicated. But it's real."

Daniel took a step back. "How long have you been lying to me?"

"I wasn't lying. I was protecting you."

"From what?"

"From them. From that world. From the part of me that isn't safe."

His voice rose, sharp with disbelief. "You're saying we've been engaged for a month and you never thought maybe I should know you're not human?"

"I am human, Daniel. Just not hundred percent one - and I wanted to leave it all behind. That part of me. It never brought anything but pain."

"And now you're going back?"

"I have to."

He nodded slowly, jaw tight. "Three years we have known each other and you have been hiding something like this to me? It never occurred to you to let me know that I was marrying an animal?!"

His words made me flinch like it was a slap across my face but I knew I deserved it.

"Daniel..."

"He turned away, pacing toward the window, then back again. "I can't do this."

"Daniel-"

"I love you, Ayla. But this? This is too much. I don't even know who you are."

I stepped forward. "I'm still me."

He looked at me-and for the first time, I saw fear in his eyes.

"No, you're not."

He took off the ring, - the promise ring I've gotten him after our engagement - set it gently on the coffee table, and walked to the door.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I can't marry a stranger."

The door shut behind him.

I stood there for a long time.

Until the silence crawled into my bone, Then I sat on the floor beside the coffee table, picked up the ring, and stared at it.

This was the life I built.

And now it was already starting to fall apart.