The Lycan Alpha's Forgotten Mate

Anais POV

Pain. It was the first thing that registered—a dull, throbbing ache that radiated from my hips down to my toes. The second was the scent. It wasn't the mildew and stale soap of my small room in the Omega quarters. It was rich, overpowering—like crushed mint leaves buried under heavy snow.

Alpha.

My eyes snapped open. Instead of my peeling ceiling, I was staring at vaulted architecture and a crystal chandelier catching the morning light. I tried to sit up, but the silk sheets tangled around my bare legs.

Bare. I was completely naked.

Panic clawed at my throat. I turned my head, and the scream died instantly, frozen by pure, primal terror.

Sleeping inches from me, face buried in a black pillow, was Dimitri Barrett. The Alpha heir. The man rumored to have Lycan blood running through his veins.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Being in the Alpha's suite was forbidden for a wolfless Omega like me. Being in his bed was a death sentence.

I scrambled backward, desperate to put distance between us. As my hand clutched the sheet, a flash of silver caught my eye. A ring. A heavy, intricate band set with a glowing moonstone sat on my finger. It hadn't been there yesterday.

"D.B.," I whispered, reading the initials engraved on the metal.

Suddenly, the air in the room grew heavy, suffocatingly dense. The temperature plummeted.

Dimitri's eyes opened. They weren't just blue; they were the color of glacial ice, and right now, they were burning with a murderous confusion.

"Who are you?"

The voice wasn't just sound; it was power. The Alpha's Command slammed into me, paralyzing my muscles. I opened my mouth to answer, but only a whimper came out. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

Dimitri sat up, the sheet falling to his waist, revealing a chest sculpted by war and violence. His gaze fell on my hand, then to his own. He was wearing a matching ring.

His face twisted in horror. He reached out and grabbed my wrist.

Zap.

A jolt of electricity, hot and sharp, shot up my arm the moment his skin touched mine. It wasn't static; it was the Mate Spark. My breath hitched, and for a second, the fear vanished, replaced by a dizzying sense of belonging.

But Dimitri didn't look like he belonged. He looked like he wanted to kill something.

"Don't touch me!" he roared, his voice laced with a trauma I didn't understand. He shoved me, hard.

I flew off the high mattress, hitting the cold hardwood floor with a painful thud. Tears blurred my vision as I curled into a ball, trying to hide my nakedness.

"Stay," he commanded, his chest heaving.

Dimitri POV

Mine! Mate! Why did you hurt her?

Ragnar, my inner Lycan, was thrashing against the walls of my mind, his roar deafening. I ignored the beast, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. My head felt like it had been split open with an axe.

Why was there a woman in my bed? Why did she smell like rain-washed lilies—a scent that made my mouth water and my stomach churn simultaneously?

"Dimitri."

The Mind-Link sliced through my skull. It was Bryson.

"Where the hell are you? The Elders are pacing. Father's memorial started twenty minutes ago."

I froze. Memorial?

I searched my memory, grasping for the events of last night, for the funeral preparations, but there was nothing. Just a black void. I had missed it. I had missed the most important ceremony of the Pack.

"I'm coming," I snapped, severing the link.

I looked down at the bed. On the pristine black sheets, a single, stark smear of crimson blood glared back at me.

The air left my lungs. I had broken my one rule. I never touched women. I never let them close enough to trigger the memories of my mother. But that blood... I had taken her. I had claimed a wolfless Omega.

Revulsion coiled in my gut—not at her, but at myself.

I looked down at the girl shivering on the floor. She was pathetic. Weak. A liability.

"Get out," I snarled.

She flinched, her large brown eyes filled with tears. "I... I don't have any clothes, Alpha."

I didn't care. I just needed her scent gone. I Mind-Linked a guard. "Bring a set of Omega rags to my suite. Now."

Minutes later, I kicked the bag of cheap clothes toward her. "Put them on. If you are still here when I step out of the shower, I will hunt you down."

The armored SUV tore down the asphalt, the engine growling in sync with my mood. The rain had started, turning the world grey and miserable.

You abandoned her, Ragnar growled, pacing in the back of my mind. She is ours. Go back.

"Shut up," I muttered, gripping the steering wheel until the leather creaked. "She is a mistake. A blank spot in my memory."

We passed the boundary line, the stretch of road connecting the Pack lands to the human town.

Then I saw her.

She was walking on the shoulder of the road, barefoot. The grey dress hung loosely on her small frame, soaked through by the freezing rain. She was hugging herself, stumbling over the gravel.

Something in my chest snapped.

It wasn't affection. It was a dark, twisting possession. She was wearing my ring. She carried my scent. And she was out here, exposed, like trash thrown to the curb.

I slammed on the brakes. The SUV screeched to a halt, blocking her path.

Anais froze. When she saw the black car, terror washed over her face, and she turned to run toward the woods.

"Get her," I ordered.

My warrior, Marcus, didn't hesitate. He jumped out, intercepting her easily. She screamed—a raw, desperate sound that grated on my nerves—as he dragged her back and shoved her into the backseat next to me.

The door slammed shut, locking us in.

She pressed herself against the door, shivering violently, smelling of fear and lilies.

I leaned in, my voice dropping to a lethal whisper that vibrated with the Command.

"When I give you an order, you obey."

She looked at me, trembling, trapped in the gaze of a predator she couldn't escape. Good. Fear was better than the sparks. Fear I could control.