The Lycans Twins Hidden Mate

Alina's pov

"Heavens." I mumbled as I looked at the sky.

The sun had just begun sending thin rays of golden light across the forest as I walked on the path leading to my parents' graves. Even till today, I felt a hollow ache in my chest, and their absence pressed on me like a weight that could never be escaped. The war had taken them away and left me stuck in this pack ruled by my sadistic younger stepbrother.

Damon.

I slowed down as I moved toward a small clearing where their graves lay. Over the years, the earth had settled unevenly, and the stone markers bore the marks of weather and time.

I knelt carefully, trembling fingers brushing away fallen petal leaves. "I miss you," I whispered, my voice cracking. "It has been years, years, and yet it still feels like yesterday. I so wish you were here to see what is happening. I wish you could fix it. I wish you could come back and save the pack. We are all suffering without you father."

I pressed my palm against the rough stone, feeling its coldness and roughness on my skin. "The pack... it is falling apart," I said softly to the stone as if my father were sitting there and listening to me. "Ever since Damon turned Alpha, nothing has been the same. He never seems to care about the people, lands, and families who once trusted us. All he cares about is himself. To appease his lustful desires, he obtains a new mistress every passing day for himself. He robs our lower pack members of their teenagers without any reason, and keeps trying to find a lady to make himself, happy and any who rejects he forcefully goes to bed with. Brcause of this breeders and girls run from the pack. And me..." My hand shook as it moved over the engraved letters of their names. "I am still here hurt, beaten, abuse and unable to flee. But I don't understand why he treats me like I don't matter. I don't understand why he treats me like it seems I am not his sister."

My eyes closed, forcing breath inside me; yesterday's memories clawed me. Damon had tried to touch me, he had tried to have sex with me, but I had shouted, pushed him, and he hadnt listened. His hands turned cruel and he pinned me down with sheer strength, mercilessly hitting me in anger, leaving many long, dark bruises on my arms, sides, and back from trying to force himself on me. I had escaped but my body reminded me every second that my escape had come with a price.

"I shouldn't have fought him," I muttered, pressing my palm to my bruised arm. "I should have kept quiet and done what he wanted, but I... I couldn't. He was going to touch me. I couldn't be still while my younger brother forced himself on me. I just... I didn't know what else to do." My fingers traced the long marks that ran across my skin, and I winced at the lingering pain. "I hope you forgive me for being hurt again. I tried to protect myself... I tried to survive but I ended up getting hurt."

I lowered my head, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "I feel so alone without you. I keep surviving because I have to, but it's hard. It's so hard." My voice broke, and I pressed my forehead to the stone one more time. The memories-warmth and protection from the voices belonging to my parents-wash over me like a tide I could no longer reach. The last time I felt loved and safe was now a fading memory.

After several long moments, I stood slowly and brushed dirt from my clothes. I needed to do something ordinary, something that reminded me I was still alive. Passing through the market on my way home seemed like the only way to feel normal-even if for a little while.

The market was coming to life as vendors called out customers to their wares. I kept my head down, trying to blend into the crowd. My feet moved quickly but carefully, and I focused on the bread stall first. I selected a few pieces of bread, fresh and soft, and added a few pieces of meat to the basket. I paid the vendor quickly, ignoring the curious glances of those around me. I did not want to attract notice. For years, my life had been filled with hiding, chores, and the fear of Damon.

As I walked through the narrow streets, wading in the short memory of what had transpired yesterday despite now hard I tried to forget, it would not leave my face. Damon's was a wolf driven crazy with lust, his sense or reasoning and boundaries blurred by lust even when I confronted him with the fact that I was related to him by blood, he just did not care.

"Stop thinking about it, just head home, eat and nurse yourself back to health. You never know when he is going to come back or what new tricks would be up his sleeves this time around." I told myself.

The walk back to my house stretched much longer than usual, every step heavy and laced with fear and exhaustion. I held the basket tightly to my chest as though I feared one of Damon's guards would appear out of no where and snatch my basket, something that was almost a frequent occurrence.

My relief at getting home , with my basket still intact, evaporated as I saw three guards standing rigidly before the door.

My breathing caught in my throat. The basket slipped slightly against my fingers. The eyes of the guards were sharp, and one of them frowned the second he saw me.

"Guards?" I asked, voice trembling, "What are you doing here? What, what do you want?"

One of them stepped forward, the tallest of the three, and pointed at me with a firm, unyielding finger. "You," he said, his voice low and steady, "the Alpha demands you be at the palace."

Alina's POV

Before I could even think, the guard said the order of the Alpha and grabbed me forward yanking me forwards as if it were just an everyday routine. The others formed an inner ring around me and not a single chance at all to escape. My basket fell off my hands with a soft thud as the bread rolled across the ground.

"Please," I whispered, but none turned back. Not a single one of them cared if it hurt me when I stumbled trying to keep up as they dragged me. For them, I was not even the daughter of the past Alpha. I was nothing to them: just a problem for Damon to pull around whenever he deems fit.

The palace's path wasn't long walk from my house, but today, it felt endless. My heart thudded in my ribs as terror crawled through my body. My step throbbed with yesterday's bruising. My memory kept playing pictures of Damon raising his hand, angrily scolding, his grip on my wrist when he tries touching me.

I shivered. Considering that he hurt me for refusing that, what would he do now? Would be tie me up and have his way with me?

When we reached the gates of the palace, the gates opened with the combined power of the guards who then dragged me into the courtyard and then down the corridors of the palace, my skin covered in bruises and blood as they dragged me across the rough ground like I was a rag doll. They stopped in front of the throne room and yanked me to my feet, as one of them opened the door.

Damon sat on his throne, or should I say, of Father's , but his now. He exuded a confidence that made my stomach twist. His face had this look as he saw me, but not from some tender feeling. It was like a look one had when a plan has finally come together.

"There you are," Damon said, "I have waited for you. I almost thought you would not come." His voice was smooth, but I sensed the danger beneath it. I gulped.

I narrowed my eyes, as I tried to stand straight despite the excruciating pain in my ankle. "You sent guards. I didn't have a choice."

He waved his hand carelessly. "Don't act like a victim. You should be grateful I even bothered to summon you politely, puny girl."

Politely.

That's one way to put being dragged to the palace like a rag doll.

"What is it that you want?" I asked softly.

He stared at me for a moment; his gaze traveled up and then down over the bruises which he had left on me. No shame there. No apologies or even a flicker of remorse on his face. Only a heavy sigh as if I had caused him inconvenience.

"It's time for you to finally do something useful," he said, "for the pack."

My stomach dropped. "What do you mean?"

"This pack is on the verge of collapse. We have lost resources during the war, lands are weak and not bearing good food, livestock's are dying. Our people are hungry. We need help, and I found it." He said, leaning back on his throne.

My brows furrowed. Confused. "Help... from where?"

Damon flashed me a smirk. "The Crimson Lycan Empire."

My breath caught. "The twin kings?"

"Yes," he said proudly. "King Kael and King Kaden themselves. Powerful. Respected. Feared. They agreed to give us support, gold, military protection-everything we need."

Fear crawled up my spine. I had heard the stories, those whispered by the traders and travelers. The twins were strong rulers but ruthless. They did not make any deal without a price.

"What did you offer them?" I asked slowly.

Damon stopped walking. His eyes locked onto mine, and I felt something cold settle inside me. "Not what but who." He said.

"Who?" I asked, narrowing my eyes as I waited for his answer.

"You."

My heart fell at such a rate I could hardly breathe. "Me? Damon... what are you talking about?"

"You will be the collateral," he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "The kings were told you are a fertile wolf. That you can give them strong male heirs."

I felt dizzy. "No," I whispered, shaking my head. "You can't do that. You can't send me to them. Damon, they're dangerous. You've heard the stories-"

He cut me off with a harsh laugh. "I don't care about stories. And you don't have a choice. The kings want a breeder and we need money. You're the perfect one for the job."

"I'm not," I insisted, my voice trembling. "I'm not a thing to give away. I'm not a bargaining chip. You can't just hand me over."

"Too late, I already did." He said, as he laughed and some of the guards awkwardly laughed too.

I thought of running away, but the guards behind me stood in the way. "Damon, please... please don't do this. They will hurt me. They will use me. They'll kill me."

He shrugged. "So?"

My breath caught. "How can you say that? I'm your sister."

"Stepsister," he corrected coldly. "And you're not even useful to me here. At least this way, you serve a purpose."

Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away. "I won't do it."

"You will."

"No," I said, louder this time. "I won't go to them. I won't be anyone's breeder."

Damon's jaw tightened. "You really think you have a choice?"

But I didn't need to answer that. My silence was enough.

This forced him to his feet and he slowly made his way toward me, boots stumping on the stone floor, echoing. When he reached me, he leaned close, his voice low and sharp.

"You'll die here, and it won't be quick," he whispered.

A chill ran down my spine.

My knees buckled and I almost fell to the floor. "Damon... don't do this. Please."

He took a step back, unaffected. "You will be the collateral. That is final."

My chest was tight with pain. "I won't," I said again, although my voice was now softer, shaking. "I won't do it."

Damon stared at me for a long moment. His face grew darker, colder. The rage in his eyes terrified me.

"Fine," he said.

He snapped his fingers. The guards stepped forward immediately.

"Damon-wait-"

He did not throw a glance at me. He didn't hesitate for a moment, either.

His voice was flat, emotionless, final.

"Throw her into the dungeons."

Alina's POV.

The dungeon refused to let me sleep. The stone floor was cold and rough, heavy with the weight of the unyielding cold biting into my skin whenever I tried to shift my weight to a more comfortable position.

The air was damp, heavy, and full of the smells of mold and old blood. Every sound echoed-dripping water, distant footsteps, and the slow scrape of rats searching for food.

But none of it kept me from sleep.

What held my eyes open throughout the night was Damon voice in my mind.

If you don't go to them, you'll die here.

All I have to do is say the word.

He said it seriously.

He would really do it.

A part of me hoped, foolishly, that Damon still had some drop of humanity, something that could make him think twice before completely destroying me. But it was clear the moment they shoved me into the cell: Damon didn't consider me family, hell, he didn't even consider me a person.

I was a problem.

A burden.

A tool.

And tools didn't get mercy.

Outside my cell, the torch flickered as heavy footsteps approached. Not the rushed movements of guards, doing checks . This was slow, confident walking, someone who wanted to be heard.

Damon.

He stepped in front of the iron bars, fresh and well slept, as if he had not enjoyed the comfort of a warm bed and maybe the soft body of two or more ladies while I froze in the dark dungeon . The contrast made my throat tighten.

"Good morning," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "I bet you had lots of time to think."

I didn't answer him.

Damon gripped the bars and leaned slightly. "I am going to ask you for the last time, Alina. Do you want to face the Lycan kings? Or should I call the council and tell them that we have a witch hiding in our pack?"

My fingers curled into fists.

I wanted to scream at him.

I wanted to fight.

But what good would it do?

No one would save me.

No one would stand up for me.

The pack had feared Damon since the day he took Father's seat. They would obey him blindly-even if it meant burning an innocent girl alive.

Last night, I had replayed every possibility, every direction my life could go. Running wasn't an option; Damon had guards everywhere. Fighting wouldn't work; I was weak, tired, and outnumbered. Staying here meant death.

Going to the Lycan kings... I didn't know what they would do to me. Maybe they would hurt me. Maybe they would use me. Maybe I would spend my entire life in a cage far worse than this one.

At least I'd be alive.

And as long as I was alive, there was always the chance-however small-to protect myself. To survive. To find a way to live.

I lifted my head and met Damon's eyes.

His eyebrows lifted, awaiting.

"I'll go," I said, my voice steady even though my body wasn't. "I accept."

A satisfied smile curved on his lips. "Good. You finally understand what is best."

Not what was best. What he wanted.

With a snap of his fingers, two guards immediately rushed to unlock the cell. They grabbed my arms-not too roughly this time, but enough to remind me that I wouldn't be controlling anything here.

"Prepare her," said Damon, "the kings will be waiting for her soon."

They dragged me out of the dungeon up the narrow stone steps into the daylight above. Brightness smashed on my eyes. I blinked while the shapes finally took to forming: Trees, grass, the morning sky began to be that soft pale blue.

It felt odd to see beauty after passing a night in the dark.

They took me to the servant baths near the back of the palace. Women I had no idea who they were washed my skin with hot water to scrub off all dirt and smell of the dungeon. Another woman was busy brushing my hair and pulling out every knot until it fell down my back.

No one spoke.

No one met my eyes.

It was like they had to rush through cleaning me and touching me, some chore to get done and out of the way before the kings arrived.

After the bath, it simply dressed me in a basic cream sown. Nothing exceptional, nothing grand-honestly, just clean and modest. The soft fabric felt strange against my skin, as though I had no right to wear it.

They escorted me toward the front courtyard, where a small carriage stood waiting. Its wheels were muddy, and the horses looked restive, stamping their hooves against the ground as though sensing tension in the air.

My stomach twisted with every step closer I took.

This was it.

This was the carriage that would take me away from my home, away from the lands I grew up in, away from the life I once imagined for myself.

Before sunset, I would leave.

Before dawn tomorrow, I would belong to the twin kings.

My fate would have been sealed, traded like goods.

A guard opened the carriage door and prepared to shove me inside.

But before I could step my foot in, the sound of fast footsteps approached from the main gate.

Breathless, a messenger walked up to Damon. Damon stepped out of the carriage to meet him.

"What is it?" Damon demanded.

The messenger quickly bowed his head. "Alpha... just got in a message from the Crimson Lycan Empire."

Damon's expression shifted with curiosity. "And?"

"Both kings will be here to get their breeder themselves."