The Feral Alpha's Secret Wolfless Mate

Eliana POV

The suffocating scent of dark rum and cedar hit me first, heavy and intoxicating. I gasped, my eyes snapping open to the dim, luxurious expanse of Jaren's Alpha Suite. The heavy silk sheets tangled around my legs. A massive, scorching weight pinned me down.

Jaren.

My breath hitched. I wasn't dead. The execution, the agonizing betrayal, the cold stone floor-it was gone. I was back. Back to the very night I made the most fatal mistake of my life: trying to use a black-market aphrodisiac mixed with my natural white peach and jasmine scent to seduce the Second Alpha Son.

Right now, the drug had pushed his volatile Inner Wolf into a violent, heat-like frenzy. He was a beast operating purely on instinct.

"No," I choked out, shoving frantically at his chest. But I was a Wolfless Omega, and he was a pureblood Alpha. My resistance meant absolutely nothing against his terrifying strength.

Desperation clawed at my throat. I couldn't let history repeat itself. I couldn't become his broken Breeder again, trapped in a nightmare that ended in my death. I lunged forward and sank my teeth into his bare shoulder, tasting copper.

Jaren let out a guttural roar. His Inner Wolf registered the sharp pain, and his eyes snapped to mine, glowing with a terrifying, predatory gold. His large hand clamped around my throat, cutting off my air. He didn't speak; his beast was entirely in control. He lowered his head, and before I could scream, his sharp canines pierced the fragile skin of my collarbone.

A pre-Marking bite.

Fire erupted in my veins. I sobbed, the pain blinding me until the drug and his frenzy finally dragged him under. With a heavy groan, he collapsed beside me, his grip loosening.

I didn't waste a single second. Ignoring the bone-crushing ache in my body, I slid off the mattress. My bare feet sank into the plush Giant Bear rug. I snatched my torn clothes from the floor, dressed with trembling hands, and slipped out the heavy oak door into the cold night.

*

By dawn, the Griffin Pack House Courtyard was bustling with the miserable labor of the lowest caste.

I gripped my broom, my knuckles white. I had scrubbed my skin raw with cheap, lye-heavy soap and smeared mud over my neck to hide the bruised bite mark and mask my scent. Every movement sent a sharp ache through my collarbone.

"You look like a corpse, El."

I flinched. Ivonne, my fellow Omega maid, leaned against her mop, eyeing my pale face with concern.

"I just... didn't sleep well," I muttered, keeping my head down and sweeping the rough cobblestones. "Stomach ache."

Ivonne glanced around the courtyard, ensuring none of the Beta supervisors were near, before leaning in close. "I'm not surprised you couldn't sleep. The whole Pack House is in an uproar."

My heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

"Lord Jaren," she whispered, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and thrill. "He's gone completely feral. They say he woke up in a rage and ordered a total lockdown."

The broom handle splintered slightly under my grip.

"He's hunting for a woman," Ivonne continued, oblivious to the terror freezing my blood. "Someone snuck into his suite last night. He's got the Warriors turning the estate upside down, and he ordered the managers to check the scent of every single Omega."

I swallowed hard, my throat sandpaper-dry.

"They're almost done with the upper floors," Ivonne added, nodding toward the arched entryway of our courtyard. "They're coming here next."

My breath hitched. Jaren didn't know it was me yet, but his Inner Wolf was obsessed with the scent he had tasted. If they caught even a trace of white peach and jasmine beneath the mud, I wouldn't survive the day.

Eliana POV

The heavy oak doors of the courtyard swung open with a violent thud, shattering the morning chill.

My breath caught in my throat. Curtiss, the Pack House Manager, strode onto the cobblestones. The sharp, dry scent of tobacco rolled off him, carrying the heavy, suffocating weight of a high-ranking Beta. Behind him stood two Warriors, their expressions grim.

"Line up! All of you, right now!" Curtiss barked, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

The Omega and Wolfless maids scrambled into a crooked line, heads bowed in submission. I squeezed my eyes shut for a fraction of a second, praying to the Moon Goddess, before shuffling into place beside Ivonne. My collarbone throbbed where Jaren's teeth had pierced my skin, hidden beneath a thick layer of mud and the harsh, burning stench of lye soap.

Curtiss began walking down the line. He wasn't just looking at us; he was inhaling deeply, his Beta senses hunting for the specific scent that had driven his Alpha into a feral frenzy.

He stopped in front of me.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Curtiss leaned in, his nose flaring. I kept my eyes glued to his polished leather boots, forcing my trembling knees to lock. He frowned, the overpowering stench of lye and mud clearly offending his senses, but beneath it... did he catch a trace of white peach and jasmine?

"She's been sick, Mr. Curtiss," Ivonne blurted out, stepping slightly in front of me. "Throwing up all night. That's why she smells so sour."

Curtiss's eyes narrowed, his Beta aura pressing down on us like a physical weight. He opened his mouth, ready to issue a command that would force the truth from our lungs.

"It was me, sir."

The voice was breathless, trembling with forced shyness. Curtiss snapped his head toward the end of the line.

Jessenia stepped forward. A cloud of overpowering, cheap floral perfume wafted from her, so thick it almost made my eyes water. She had clearly bathed in it. Her cheeks were flushed, and she kept her eyes demurely lowered. "I was in Lord Jaren's Alpha Suite last night. I... I served him."

Curtiss stared at her. His brow furrowed in deep suspicion. Even as a Wolfless, I knew Jaren's pureblood Inner Wolf would never be captivated by such a synthetic, vulgar scent. But Curtiss was desperate. Jaren was tearing the estate apart, and the Beta needed a scapegoat to present to his furious Alpha.

"Come with me," Curtiss ordered gruffly, grabbing Jessenia by the arm and dragging her toward the inner estate.

As the heavy doors closed behind them, my legs finally gave out. I collapsed onto the cold cobblestones, gasping for air. I was safe. For now. But a cold dread pooled in my stomach. Jessenia didn't have the bite mark. Jaren's beast would eventually realize he had been tricked, and the fallout would be catastrophic.

*

By noon, the damp, crowded Servants' Mess Hall was buzzing with the news.

I sat in the corner, staring at the bland, watery stew in my wooden bowl. Across the room, Curtiss had just made the official announcement: Jessenia had been elevated to the status of Lord Jaren's exclusive Breeder.

She was already wearing a soft silk dress, a stark contrast to our rough cotton uniforms. The Omegas who usually sat at our table had abandoned us, flocking around Jessenia like flies to honey, desperate to curry favor with the Pack's newest rising star.

"Look at her," one of the maids sneered loudly, casting a disdainful glare in my direction. "Eliana actually thought her pretty face would get her an Alpha. What a joke. She doesn't even have an Inner Wolf. A Wolfless freak could never compete with a real Omega."

"Now Jessenia is moving to the East Wing," another chimed in, laughing. "I bet Eliana will be scrubbing her floors by tomorrow."

Beside me, Ivonne slammed her wooden spoon onto the table. A low, guttural snarl ripped from her throat, her Omega wolf rising to the surface, ready to defend me. She started to stand up, her fists clenched.

"Don't," I whispered, my hand shooting out to grip her wrist with surprising strength.

"El, they're insulting you!" Ivonne hissed, her eyes flashing with anger. "Jessenia is a lying, vain-"

"Let her have it," I interrupted, my voice steady and my eyes clear.

I didn't care about their mockery. I had died once because of the East Wing's deadly politics. Let Jessenia take the target on her back. I released Ivonne's wrist and picked up my spoon, forcing myself to swallow the tasteless stew. Every coin I saved was a step closer to buying my freedom and getting my sister Haley out of this hell.

But to survive long enough to do that, I needed to make sure I was as far away from Jaren Griffin as possible before his Inner Wolf realized the woman in his bed was a fake.

Eliana POV

The damp, suffocating air of the servant quarters was a welcome relief after the chaotic mess hall. I sat on my lumpy cot in the dim light of the evening, counting the few crumpled bills I had managed to stash away. It wasn't enough to buy my freedom yet, but it was a start.

The heavy wooden door creaked open, and Berniece, the Beta in charge of personnel, stepped inside. The murky, unwashed scent of her Beta aura filled the small room. She held out a plump, expectant hand, her eyes gleaming with greed.

"Time to pay up, Eliana," she sneered. "If you want to keep your cushy spot in the East Wing, near Lord Jaren, it's going to cost you your next month's wages."

In my past life, I had eagerly handed over every last coin, desperate to stay close to the Alpha I foolishly thought I could win over. Now, the mere thought of Jaren made my blood run cold.

"I don't have it," I said, keeping my eyes lowered to avoid challenging her Beta authority. "And I don't want the position anymore. Please, Berniece. Transfer me. I'll work in the laundry room, the stables-anywhere. Just get me out of the East Wing."

Berniece's Inner Wolf bristled slightly at my refusal, but a cruel smirk quickly replaced her frown. "Giving up so easily? Fine. There are plenty of fools willing to pay for that spot anyway. But pack transfers take time. You'll be reassigned in two days."

*Two days.* The words hit me like a physical blow. I still had to survive two more nights in the beast's lair.

Panic clawed at my throat as night fell. Since Jessenia had been elevated to Breeder and moved into the inner chambers, I was assigned to the outer suite for the night shift. I couldn't let Jaren see me, and more importantly, I couldn't let him smell me.

I bound my chest and waist tightly with rough linen strips, flattening my curves until it hurt to breathe. I swapped my uniform for the baggiest, most threadbare laborer's tunic I could find. Finally, I took a handful of wood ash and cheap, lye-heavy soap, scrubbing it fiercely over my neck and collarbone. The harsh mixture burned my skin, but it effectively masked my natural white peach and jasmine scent, as well as the bruised bite mark Jaren had left on me.

Trembling, I made my way to the East Wing. Outside the heavy oak doors of the Alpha Suite, I bumped into Elsie, the Omega maid I was relieving. She looked pale, her eyes wide with terror.

"Keep your head down, El," she whispered frantically. "Lord Jaren is in a foul mood. Whatever Jessenia is doing in there, it's not soothing his Inner Wolf."

I swallowed hard and slipped inside.

The suite was suffocatingly dark, thick with the aggressive, intoxicating scent of dark rum and cedar. My knees buckled slightly under the sheer weight of his Alpha aura. I shrank into the deepest shadow near the doorway, praying to the Moon Goddess that I would remain invisible.

Jaren was slumped on the massive leather sofa across the room. He didn't even glance in my direction. Suddenly, a low, guttural growl vibrated from his chest, a sound so primal it made my Wolfless bones rattle.

"You," his voice boomed, laced with the undeniable, crushing power of an Alpha's Command. "Get in here and prepare the bath. Now."

My body betrayed me instantly. As a Wolfless, I had zero defense against an Alpha's direct order. My legs moved on their own, dragging me out of the shadows and toward the private hot spring in the inner chamber.

The heavy wooden doors to the bathhouse were already open. Thick, scalding steam rolled out, hitting my face like a physical wall. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs. The intense heat and moisture were already making my skin slick with sweat.

I grabbed a stack of fresh towels, my hands shaking violently as I approached the edge of the bubbling pool. The steam clung to my clothes, dampening the wood ash and lye soap on my neck. If the water washed away my disguise, the beast waiting in the other room would instantly recognize the scent he had tasted last night.