The Blind Alpha's Rejected Savior

Five years. That's how long my Mate, Alpha Courtland, locked me in the Silver Mines for killing his "true love," Kinsley.

But Kinsley wasn't dead. She was hiding in the pack house, living in luxury while I rotted.

When I was finally released, broken and dying, Kinsley framed me again. To protect his "pregnant" mistress, Courtland stood by and watched as she threw my ten-year-old brother off a bridge.

That was the moment my love died. I climbed to the hospital roof, accepted Courtland's rejection, and jumped to my death right before his eyes.

It took my suicide for him to find the truth—that I was the White Wolf who had healed his blindness, not her. That he had tortured his innocent Mate.

He spent three years drowning in regret, his brain rotting from Bond Decay, praying for death.

Until he saw me at a gala.

I wasn't Ana anymore. I was Amelia, the fiancée of a rival Alpha.

He knelt, begging for six months of my time to soothe his dying bond, offering me his entire pack as inheritance.

I agreed. Not to save him, but to watch him die.

And to secure the legacy for the secret son I was carrying—his son.

Chapter 1

Ana POV

Five years.

That's one thousand, eight hundred, and twenty-five days of inhaling silver dust.

In the world of humans, silver is jewelry. In our world, for the Blood Moon Pack, silver is poison. It burns the skin like acid and keeps the wolf inside us sedated, screaming in silent agony.

I coughed, and the taste of metal filled my mouth. My skin was gray, covered in sores that refused to heal because the air in the Silver Mines didn't allow for regeneration.

"Prisoner 304. Front and center."

The warden's voice was rough. The heavy iron gate creaked open. The sunlight hit my eyes, and it felt like a physical blow. I had forgotten what the sun looked like.

I stumbled out, my legs trembling. I was twenty-three now. I went in when I was eighteen, just a girl who had been accused of pushing Kinsley, the Alpha's savior, off a cliff.

The warden didn't look at me. He shoved a small, framed photo into my hands.

"Alpha Courtland's orders," he grunted. "You are to wear this around your neck. Always. If you take it off, you go back in the hole."

I looked down. It was a picture of Kinsley, smiling her perfect, innocent smile. The woman I supposedly murdered. The woman whose death sentence I had been serving.

My fingers trembled as I put the chain around my neck. It felt heavier than the shackles I had just lost.

"Where is... is anyone here for me?" I asked, my voice raspy from disuse.

The warden laughed. "For a murderer? The Alpha sent the transport. That's more mercy than you deserve."

I climbed into the back of the old van. The driver was a Beta I used to know. Thomas. He didn't look at me. He rolled down the partition window immediately to block my scent.

I smelled like rot and sulfur. I smelled like the mines.

As we drove through the territory of the Blood Moon Pack, I pressed my face against the dirty glass. The forests were lush. I could sense the life out there. My inner wolf stirred, weak and pathetic. She was a Latent White Wolf, a rare bloodline, but five years of silver had nearly killed her.

We arrived at the Pack House. It was a mansion that looked more like a fortress.

Thomas stopped the van at the main gate. "Get out. I'm not driving garbage up the driveway."

I stepped out. My clothes were rags. My feet were bare and bleeding.

A group of Omegas—the lowest rank in our hierarchy, usually servants—were sweeping the leaves near the gate. They stopped. Their noses wrinkled.

"Oh goddess, what is that smell?" one whispered.

"It's the Killer Luna," another sneered, covering her nose. "She smells like death."

I kept my head down. I just wanted to see Aspen. My little brother. He was only ten when I was taken. He would be fifteen now. Unpresented. Vulnerable.

Suddenly, a roar tore through the air.

It wasn't a beast. It was an engine.

A sleek black sports car came tearing down the driveway, heading straight for the gate. Straight for me.

It didn't slow down.

My eyes widened. I tried to move, but a crushing weight slammed into my shoulders. It felt like gravity had increased tenfold.

Alpha's Command.

When an Alpha uses his aura, lower-ranking wolves are paralyzed. It is the absolute law of our biology.

I stood frozen, watching death approach at a hundred miles an hour.

The tires screeched. Smoke billowed. The bumper stopped an inch from my knees. The heat from the engine burned my shins.

The door opened.

Alpha Courtland stepped out.

He was taller than I remembered. His shoulders were broader, his power suffocating. He wore a tailored black suit that cost more than my life was worth. His eyes, once blind and milky in our childhood, were now sharp, piercing blue.

Because I healed them. I used my Moonstone and my blood to heal him when we were kids. But Kinsley took the credit. And now, the eyes I saved looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred.

"You flinched," Courtland said. His voice was deep, vibrating in my chest. "I thought five years in hell would have made you tougher, Ana."

"Courtland..." I whispered.

"Alpha," he corrected. The command in his voice forced my knees to hit the pavement. Snap. I felt skin break.

"Alpha Courtland," I choked out. "Please. I just want to see Aspen."

He walked around me, inspecting me like a piece of livestock. "Aspen? You think you have the right to ask for things?"

"He is my brother. Please."

"He is a member of my pack. You are a criminal." He leaned down, his face close to mine. I could smell him—rain and dark chocolate. The scent of my Mate.

My wolf whimpered, Mate. Mate is hurting us.

Courtland grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at the photo of Kinsley hanging around my neck.

"She is dead because of you," he hissed. "Do you know what it's like to lose your mate, Ana? To feel the bond snap?"

"I didn't kill her!" I cried out, the tears finally coming. "I tried to save her! And Courtland, remember the forest? Remember the girl with the white wolf who licked your eyes? It was me! It was never her!"

He released me with a shove, wiping his hand on his handkerchief as if I were contagious.

"Lies," he said coldly. "Kinsley described the ritual perfectly before she died. You are nothing but a jealous, power-hungry bitch who killed her own stepsister."

He turned to the warriors standing guard.

"The Silver Mines made her soft," Courtland announced. "She thinks she can still make demands."

He pointed to the far edge of the property, where the rusted iron cages for Feral Wolves—wolves who had lost their minds to madness—were kept.

"Put her in the cages. Let the Ferals teach her some manners."

"No!" I screamed as two warriors grabbed my arms. They dragged me across the asphalt. My skin scraped away, leaving a trail of blood. "Courtland! Please! I'm your Mate! Look at me!"

He didn't look back. He just got into his car and drove away, leaving me to be dragged into the darkness.