The Alpha's Quiet Mate

I wasn't given a choice. I was sold like a property on the eve of my twentieth birthday to a monster they call Alpha Kieran Blackwood.

They call it a treaty, a bond to unite two packs against a common enemy. But to me, it's a death sentence, one wrapped in silk and sealed with blood.

I didn't realize I was the price until they summoned me.

I was in my room when the Beta barged in.

"The Alpha wants you in the council room," he said.

My stomach twisted the moment I heard it, a familiar dread coiling in my chest. Nothing good ever followed those summons–just orders, punishments, or reminders of how worthless I had become.

The hallway stretched on, heavy with each step. Whispers clung to the air like smoke. "There she goes, Mooncrest's little curse." I kept my gaze fixed on the floor, focusing on the rhythm of my footsteps, the only thing I could control.

As I entered the council chamber, silence swallowed me whole. The kind of silence that was thick with judgment, a pressure in my chest that made it hard to breathe.

The council members sat in a half-circle, faces carved from stone, eyes sharp and filled with something colder than indifference-contempt. My father, Alpha Braxton, sat at the center, his gaze resting on me like I was a stain he couldn't scrub out.

"Elara," my father said, his tone flat, void of anything resembling warmth. "You're here because it's time you served a purpose."

A purpose? Like I was an object that'd been collecting dust, waiting to be useful again.

I stood there, stiff, my hands clenched at my sides.

Elder Rowan's cold eyes flicked to me, his lips curling into a sneer. "You're of no use to this pack. Mute. Weak. A shadow of what an Alpha's daughter should be." His words weren't just a condemnation-they were a verdict.

I could see the satisfaction in his gaze, the quiet joy he took in putting me down as if seeing me broken fed something darker inside him.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry, but I didn't react. I was used to this-used to being the target of words sharper than any blade.

"But you can still be valuable," Elder Hagan chimed in, his voice dripping with false diplomacy. "An alliance has been arranged. You will marry Alpha Kieran Blackwood."

The words hit me like a slap.

I wanted to scream. To say no. To tell them I wasn't a pawn to be traded like livestock. But my voice-if it even existed anymore-was buried too deep, lost beneath layers of fear and years of silence.

Then Nyx roared inside my mind.

"FIGHT!"

Her voice was wild, raw, unrestrained-a sharp contrast to the suffocating stillness that had wrapped itself around me for years. It echoed in my skull, claws raking against the fragile walls of my sanity.

"You're not their pawn!" she snarled, her rage thrumming through me like a pulse. "Say something. Do something!"

But I couldn't.

"He's a ruthless Alpha," Elder Rowan continued, leaning forward slightly as if to study my reaction. "But that doesn't matter. You don't need his affection. You just need to do your duty."

I clenched my fists tighter, nails digging into my palms. Nyx growled faintly in the back of my mind, her fury coiling like a storm. But even she couldn't break through the numbness pressing down on me.

"He won't want her," Elder Varyn muttered, shaking his head. "She's broken. He'll see that the moment he looks at her."

A flicker of something-hope? -sparked in my chest. Maybe they'd reconsider. Maybe I wasn't useful enough, even for this.

But then my father's voice cut through, cold and final.

"He doesn't need to want her," he snapped. "He needs the alliance. She's nothing more than a means to an end."

A means to an end? So that's all I was?

I stared straight ahead, my chest hollowed, and my throat burned, but no sound came out. No scream, no cry. Just silence. The same silence I had been trapped in for years.

I was screaming inside, "How could they?"

I was supposed to be the Alpha's daughter, a symbol of strength. But that was before I lost everything-my family, my pride, and most of all, my voice.

I remembered the way the pack used to bow their heads when I walked past, their respect stitched into every nod, every glance. "Alpha's little warrior," they'd whisper, smiling as I darted through the training grounds, wooden dagger clutched in my small hand, determined to be just like my father.

He used to watch me with pride, his eyes once warm like embers, flickering with admiration. "You'll be stronger than me one day, Elara," he'd say, ruffling my hair. "You've got the fire of the Mooncrest bloodline."

But the fire dies when there's no one left to keep it burning.

It happened so fast-the day everything changed. One moment, I was his pride. The next, I was a curse.

I haven't spoken a word in fifteen years. Not because I don't want to, but because I can't. My voice is buried somewhere deep inside me, lost beneath layers of fear and memories I don't dare to touch.

When I try, it's like standing at the edge of a cliff, mouth open, but nothing comes out. I've forgotten what my voice even sounded like, and maybe that's the worst part-losing a piece of myself I can never get back.

And no one noticed.

Not even him.

Now, I am being given to Alpha Kieran Blackwood, the man they call the Shadow King. A ruthless Alpha whose name is whispered like a curse, his reputation built on fear, blood, and battles won without mercy. A man who wouldn't hesitate to snap my neck if it served his purpose.

"You're dismissed," my father said, like I was a stain he was finally done trying to scrub out.

I didn't wait for anything more. I turned and left, my footsteps echoing in the suffocating silence. The walls felt tighter somehow like they'd heard every word spoken and were pressing in to crush me.

Back in my room, I closed the door quietly. No point in slamming it. Walls don't care.

I sank to the floor, knees tucked to my chest, staring at the cracked ceiling, like it held answers to questions I was too afraid to ask. My chest burned with anger. Even Nyx was silent like she didn't know how to fill the void.

***

The next morning, the door flew open without warning.

My father stood there, his presence like an unwelcome shadow stretching across the room. His face was the same as always-cold, sharp, carved from stone. No warmth. No hesitation.

"Get up," he barked.

I didn't move.

He stepped inside and the door closed behind him.

"Alpha Kieran will be here soon," he snapped, his eyes hard. "You'll stand when he enters. You'll be respectful. Presentable. And for once in your pathetic life, try not to embarrass me."

Embarrass him? Hah!

I hated him.

I didn't move. I just stared at him, my gaze burning with all the anger I couldn't voice, my fingers dug into the thin blanket on my bed, nails biting into the fabric – just to feel something.

My vision blurred as I watched him - the one I thought cared. He was supposed to be my father. My protector.

Nyx growled faintly in the back of my mind, her rage simmering like hot coals, but I stayed silent.

His jaw clenched like he was waiting for a response I couldn't give. Then, as if disgusted by my very existence, he turned his back on me.

But before he could leave-

Footsteps.

Heavy. Steady. Purposeful.

They echoed down the hall, slow and deliberate, each one a warning. The air shifted, and grew colder, thicker, like even the walls knew who was coming.

Nyx's growl faded into stillness.

The footsteps stopped outside my door.

Two sharp knocks. Not polite. Just final.

My father straightened immediately, his back rigid, his jaw tight. The door creaked open without waiting for permission.

And there he was.

Alpha Kieran Blackwood.

His presence sucked the warmth out of the room. He didn't need to say a word; his gaze did all the speaking. Cold, sharp, and piercing, like it could see through skin, flesh, bone, straight into whatever was left of my soul.

His dark eyes flicked over me, unreadable, indifferent, like I was nothing more than a transaction. A name on paper. A deal sealed.

Alpha Kieran stood well over six feet, his body carved from years of relentless battles, not just training. His features were sharp and unforgiving-high cheekbones, a strong, chiseled jawline dusted with stubble, and a jagged scar slashing across his right brow, disappearing into his hairline like a permanent reminder of violence. It didn't mar his face; it completed it.

But it was his eyes that rooted me to the spot-crystal green, cold and piercing, like shards of ice buried deep in a winter forest. They held no warmth, no flicker of kindness, just an emptiness that swallowed everything whole.

His scent hit me next, dark and crisp like pine after a storm, laced with something colder-metallic, like blood on steel.

Nyx stirred.

"Mine," She growled, wild and fierce but I shoved her down. Our mate can never be Kieran.

He didn't speak right away. Just stood there, staring, his expression carved from stone. Then his jaw flexed, and when he finally opened his mouth, his voice was rough, like gravel dragged across concrete.

"Is this her?" he asked, his gaze never shifting from mine, as if I wasn't even worth the courtesy of using my name.

My father scoffed behind me; his tone dismissive. "Yes. Take her."

Kieran's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't spare my father a glance. Instead, he stepped forward, his boots thudding heavily against the floor, every step a silent threat.

"Get dressed and meet me in the ceremonial hall." He ordered before turning to leave.

His voice was deep and cold. He didn't need to yell but the way he spoke left no room for disobedience.

My legs moved before I could think, as if his words had pulled invisible strings, forcing me to stand.

I stumbled towards the bathroom and washed quickly, the cold water stinging my skin with every touch. With trembling fingers, I combed through my tangled hair, crying as I pulled out the knots. I braided it loosely, trying to make it look presentable.

"Elara you're strong, you can do this," I said to myself trying hard not to cry.

I searched through the small wooden chest at the foot of my bed and found my mother's old white gown she wore at her wedding. The fabric was faded with time, the lace frayed at the edges, but still as beautiful, like the memory of her.

I slipped it on, the material cool against my skin, the faint scent of her clinging to it.

With a deep breath, I stepped out of my room, my bare feet meeting the cold floor. Each creak of the stairs sounded louder than the last as I descended, the weight of the gown and the ceremony ahead pressing down on me with every step.

–

The ceremonial hall was already packed when I arrived.

Wolves stood in neat rows, their faces blending-a mix of blank stares and barely hidden curiosity. The whispers were like background noise, soft enough to pretend they weren't meant for me, but sharp enough to feel like tiny cuts.

"Is that her?"

"The mute girl?"

I kept my eyes straight ahead, focusing on nothing and everything at the same time. My feet were numb against the cold stone floor, but it wasn't the chill making me shiver.

And then I saw him. My father.

He stood at the front with the council, arms crossed, posture stiff like he was holding himself together with nothing but sheer pride. His face was the same as always-blank, distant like he'd forgotten how to feel anything at all.

But when his eyes met mine, they dropped.

Just for a second.

I caught it-the smallest shift. His gaze landed on the dress. Her dress.

His jaw tightened, a flicker of something passing over his face. Pain? Regret? No. It was gone too fast to be either. Like it had no right to be there in the first place.

He just looked away.

And somehow, that hurt more than if he'd said something cruel.

I made myself keep walking, step after step, until I reached the altar, standing exactly where they wanted me.

Kieran stood at the altar, towering and imposing, exuding an aura that scared everyone around him - no warmth, just indifference.

At the base of the stairs stood two men, unmistakably part of Kieran's entourage. One was tall, almost as broad as Kieran, with sharp blue eyes and an easy smirk that didn't reach them. His presence radiated authority, but there was a relaxed edge to him-Beta, probably.

Beside him, two guards flanked the door, their postures rigid and expressions blank,

The Oracle stepped forward, starting the bonding ceremony. As I looked into Kieran's eyes, her voice faded into the background, until the part that mattered;

"And now, the blood bond."

A ceremonial blade was passed to Kieran. He didn't hesitate, making a swift slice across his palm, like he couldn't wait for the moment to finish. Then he handed the blade to me.

My hands trembled as I made the cut across my palm.

We joined our bloodied hands together and I felt a sharp pull, something unfamiliar like a thread tightening deep inside my chest.

"Mate!"

Nyx, my wolf, roared in my mind, her voice fierce and undeniable.

"No." I snapped back. He'll never be ours.

"Who would want a mute Luna for a mate?" I asked her.

My breath hitched. Kieran flinched, a shudder rippling through him. His jaw clenched tighter and for the briefest second, I saw it – confusion flickering across his face.

His posture stiffened like the bond had stitched itself somewhere he didn't want.

He yanked his hand away, flexing his fingers as if shaking off the bond.

"It's done," he said flatly, turning away without another glance.

The Oracle continued speaking, but her words faded. The room erupted into polite applause, but it all felt distant, like I was standing underwater.

My father leaned in again, his breath hot against my ear.

"At least you're useful for something."

I didn't react. I couldn't. My heart was too busy unraveling, stitched together by a bond I didn't ask for with a man who clearly didn't want it.

Kieran didn't look back once as he left the altar.

And neither did I.

–

The driveway was lined with sleek black SUVs, with the Blackwood crest etched onto them.

Kieran slid into the passenger seat of one without a word. Tobias, his Beta, gestured towards the backseat.

"Get in," he said flatly.

I climbed in, and the door was shut behind me. Tobias joined us, while the rest of the guards entered the other SUVs.

Minutes passed in tense silence before Tobias broke it.

"So," he started, glancing at me with a half-hearted smirk, "is this as awkward for you as it is for me?"

I stared straight ahead.

"Not a talker, huh?" he tried again, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

Nyx growled softly in the back of my mind.

Tobias's smirk faded, his brow furrowing slightly. He turned to Kieran. "Is she always like this?"

Kieran didn't even glance back. "She can't talk."

Silence. Tobias blinked, the weight of Kieran's words settling in.

"Oh," he muttered, shifting in his seat. "Well, that explains it."

I looked out the window, staring at the cold landscape blurring past and grateful for the silence.

We arrived at Blackwood Pack later that evening. The towering gates groaned as they opened, revealing dark stone buildings nestled under an overcast sky. Wolves stood in clusters; their gazes sharp, unkind. Some whispered, others didn't bother lowering their voices.

"That's her?" a woman scoffed, her lips curling in disdain. "The mute Luna? She looks like she'd snap in the wind."

"Our Alpha deserves better," another muttered.

Nyx snarled in my head; her fury sharp. "Let me out. I'll show them who deserves what." But I stayed still, my face blank, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Beside me, Kieran was silent, his stride steady and unaffected, as if their voices were mere background noise.

We entered the packhouse-massive, cold, and eerily quiet. Kieran's footsteps echoed down the long hallway, mine barely a whisper against the polished floors. He stopped abruptly in front of a door, pushing it open without a glance my way.

"This is your room," he said flatly, stepping aside.

I hesitated at the threshold, taking in the room. It was bare-just a bed, a dresser, and a small window that barely let in any light. No color, warmth or comfort. Just... emptiness.

"You'll sleep here," he continued, his voice sharp and distant. "Mira will be assigned as your attendant. She'll handle your needs-clothes, meals, whatever."

I turned slightly, watching him from the corner of my eye. His face was unreadable, carved from stone.

"You'll eat here, alone, unless I say otherwise." His gaze flicked to me briefly, like I was nothing more than an obligation. "You're to attend pack events, when necessary, but don't expect anyone to care. They won't."

My jaw clenched, but I remained silent.

"Stay out of the West Wing," he added, his tone darker, like a quiet warning.

I frowned slightly, curiosity sparking, but I didn't dare ask.

He stepped back, hesitating at the door. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes-an emotion too quick to catch. Then it was gone, replaced by cold indifference.

"Don't mistake this for a home, Elara," he murmured. "You're here because of politics, nothing more."

Then he left, the door shutting with a soft click.

Nyx whimpered softly, a sound of wounded pride. "He's lying. He feels it too."

I stared at the closed door, my fingers brushing over the faint pulse on my wrist. The bond hummed softly beneath my skin, a constant reminder.

I was still mute. Still invisible.

But for the first time, I felt something louder than silence.

I felt him.

Nyx purred softly, a dangerous edge to her satisfaction.

I hated it.

The morning light barely crept through the tiny window, casting soft streaks across the cold, gray room. I was still tangled in sleep, wrapped in scratchy sheets, when the door burst open with the energy of a tornado wrapped in sunshine.

"Good morning, sunshine!"

I jolted upright, eyes squinting against the sudden brightness-not from the sun, but from her. A middle-aged woman I'd never seen before.

She practically skipped into the room, arms full of flowers, a basket dangled from her elbow, stuffed with colorful fabrics, small trinkets, and a pillow.

She had the brightest smile, like her face didn't know how to do anything else, reminding me of my mother. Her hair was tied up messily, and her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Time to turn this sad little cave into something less tragic." She dropped everything with a dramatic flair, hands on her hips like she'd just conquered a kingdom.

"Name's Mira. Your new favorite person. Now, up!"

Nyx chuckled in my head, "I like her!"

I stared. She grinned wider.

I stood and watched as she changed the old beddings to the new flower-patterned ones she'd brought. The colors were soft and warm, breathing life into the cold room. She picked up a new pillow and gently placed it on the bed-it looked soft and plush, the kind you'd sink right into.

"I made this pillow myself the night I heard the Alpha was getting married. It's a gift for Luna," she said with a bright smile. "I knitted the cover with soft wool, filled it with lots of fluffy feathers, and added a bit of lavender and rose fragrance to help you sleep better."

"I wasn't sure which color to pick, so I went with something soft-it makes the room feel less gloomy, don't you think?" she said, fluffing the pillow with an exaggerated pat. "Oh, and the stitches? Took me three tries to get them right. My cat kept pulling at the yarn-little rascal thinks he's helping."

She glanced at me, her smile never fading. "But it was worth it. Luna deserves comfort, even if she doesn't ask for it."

She moved around the room like a burst of energy, opening a window I didn't even know was there. Warm sunlight busted into the room, chasing away the shadows and filling the room with so much warmth.

"Oh, look at that! A little sunlight makes everything better, doesn't it?" she chirped, as she yanked the old, dull curtains and replaced them with new ones – soft, colorful and light making them dance with the breeze.

She placed a small vase of bright flowers on the dresser, and placed larger vases in the corners of the room, their vibrant colors popping against the pale walls. Then she grabbed a small bottle and sprayed a sweet fragrance into the air.

The soft blend of lavender, vanilla, and something citrusy filled the room, replacing the dusty, stale scent I met here.

"There! Doesn't that feel more like a room and less like a little sad cave?" she said, grinning as she admired her work.

She dragged me-literally-to a steaming bath that smelled like wildflowers and honey. The warmth seeped into my bones, chasing away the cold I didn't even realize I'd been carrying.

"I added lavender. Good for the soul," she said, rolling up her sleeves. "Now, don't look at me like that. Yes, I'm bathing you, you look like you haven't had a good bath in ages, and no, I don't care if it's weird."

I didn't protest. I was too shocked-and honestly, the warmth felt nice. She scrubbed my back gently, humming an off-key tune, filling the room with life.

Next, she wrapped me in soft towels, sat me down, and began combing through my hair with gentle fingers, no yanks, no impatient sighs, just warmth.

"Goodness, girl, did you fight a bear in your sleep? This hair is a battlefield," she joked, shaking her head dramatically while gently working through the tangles.

A small, unexpected smile tugged at the corner of my lips. It felt strange-like my face had forgotten how to do it.

Mira's eyes lit up like she'd won a prize. "Was that... was that a smile? Hold on, let me frame this moment in my memory." She pretended to wipe away an invisible tear. "Beautiful."

"We'll braid it like this," she said softly, fingers weaving strands with care. "Highlight those cheekbones, darling. You've got royalty written all over you. Bet if you blink twice, you'll charm the Alpha into tripping over his own feet."

That made me snort-a soft, breathy sound I hadn't heard from myself in years. Mira's grin stretched even wider, victorious.

Then came the clothes-colorful clothes. Not the dull, shapeless things I was used to. Silky fabrics in shades of blue and green that made my skin glow.

When Mira was done, she spun me toward the cracked mirror.

I didn't recognize the girl staring back.

The hollow look was gone. My eyes weren't just empty-they sparkled. My skin looked soft and warm; my lips tinted pink. My hair was braided beautifully, tiny beads woven in.

I looked alive for the first time in fifteen years.

Mira leaned in beside me, grinning, "Told you. Luna material."

I stared a moment longer, then-soft and brief-a smile crept onto my face.

Mira gasped dramatically. "Twice in one morning? I'm unstoppable!"

Nyx whispered, "You're beautiful."

And this time, I almost believed it.

***

Later, Mira didn't waste time.

"We're going out," she announced, hands on her hips. "You need fresh air, some sun on your face, and maybe a snack. Or ten."

I hesitated, shaking my head. I'm not allowed.

Mira frowned. "Since when does Luna come with invisible shackles?"

I gestured toward the door, trying to explain without words.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. We're not doing the 'sad girl stuck in a tower' routine. Let's talk to Mr. Grumpy Alpha himself." She grabbed my hand. "Let's go."

She didn't even give me time to protest. One minute I was standing there, and the next, Mira was dragging me through the hall like I weighed nothing.

I tried pulling back, planting my feet like a stubborn tree, but Mira just shot me a look over her shoulder. "Oh, don't give me that face. You're Luna and not a decorative vase."

Before I could blink, we were standing outside Kieran's office door.

Mira gave a soft knock and Tobias opened the door.

"What is it, Mira?" He asked.

"We'll love to speak to the Alpha." She replied.

He looked at us like we had lost it, coming to look for the Alpha in his office and after a minute he let us in.

"This should be fun," he added as we entered inside.

Kieran looked up from a stack of papers, his signature scowl firmly in place. Mira didn't flinch.

"Good afternoon, Alpha Kieran. we'd like to humbly ask for your permission to let the Luna go outside the pack house for some sunlight."

Kieran's jaw tightened slightly, his cold gaze shifting to me. I instinctively shrank back, but Mira squeezed my hand, refusing to let me.

Silence. A very loud one at that. He then set his pen down with deliberate slowness.

"She's fine where she is," he said. His voice sounding like a decree.

Mira's grip on my hand tightened. "She's not a prisoner, Alpha," she added, her voice softer now but still firm. "She's Luna and she deserves more than four walls."

Silence. The room felt thick enough to choke on.

Kieran let out a sound like he was amused. Looking at us with so much sharpness.

"Tell me Mira, do you think your words can change my decision?" His voice dangerously low this time making Mira and I to shift backwards.

For the first time since the day started, Mira went quiet. I instinctively tried to hide behind her, but his cold and unwavering gaze kept me rooted on my spot.

"You want to go outside, Luna?"

I swallowed hard, suddenly unsure. I never went out in my former pack, why did I think that I would have the freedom here to do so.

I quickly shook my head. Mira grabbed my hand trying to make me disagree but I insisted. I didn't want to push my luck on the first day and I definitely didn't want to tempt Kieran.

Kieran let out a quiet chuckle after witnessing our drama and said with a dangerously low voice, "She stays in her room."

And that was final. I was so foolish to think that a miracle could happen.

But Mira spoke up again, her voice sounding like a plea this time, "Please let the young girl have some biscuits, Alpha."

Kieran held her gaze for a long moment, looked at me briefly and I was shocked to hear the next thing he said.

"Two hours."

Mira let out a shaky breath, just enough to reveal the tension she'd been holding. "Thank you, Alpha Kieran, I promise to bring her back in time," she said.

Kieran didn't respond immediately. He just watched her-watched me-like he was deciding if our freedom was worth granting. Then, with a slow nod, he turned back to his desk, dismissing us without another word.

Just as we turned to leave, Tobias-who had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed, observing the whole thing with mild amusement-finally spoke.

"Congratulations," he drawled, a smirk tugging at his lips. "On your little freedom. Try not to get too used to it."

Mira shot him a glare, but Tobias just chuckled, shaking his head. "Relax, I'm just saying-our Alpha isn't known for his generosity. You must be really special."

I wasn't sure if that was meant for Mira or me.

Mira scoffed and grabbed my wrist tugging me toward the door.

The moment we stepped outside, Mira exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Okay, I don't know about you, but I need a damn drink."