Derek's POV
I hated all of it.
The title of Alpha weighed on me like a curse, never a privilege. Every pair of eyes in the pack followed my movements, their gazes sharper than claws, cutting straight through flesh and bone. My father might have stepped down in name, but the truth was far uglier: the pack was still his. Every decision I made carried his fingerprints, every step I took echoed with his shadow. I was a king in chains, a puppet seated on a throne that had never truly been mine.
You'll see, my mother's voice whispered from the past, relentless as a ghost. Once you find your Luna, he'll finally step aside.
I almost laughed. Bitterly.
Don, my wolf, rejected the very idea. Every time the subject surfaced, I slammed into invisible walls. Being an Alpha was never easy, but the hardest part was standing alone with decisions that tore me apart, especially when my instincts pulled me in directions I refused to follow.
"Why won't you let me choose my own mate?" I snapped, my voice slicing through the silence.
"I have two reasons," Don replied coldly, his words sharp enough to draw blood. "First: none of the women you've chosen are worthy of notice. Beauty fades. You know that. Second: with a chosen Luna, you'll never reach your true strength."
"And what if I find someone stronger than fate intended?" I challenged, tension humming beneath my skin.
"I doubt it," Don scoffed. "But you're welcome to try."
My sister Emily, meanwhile, had admirers lining up at her feet, yet she dismissed them all. I couldn't even blame her. She was my father's mirror, impossible to please, demanding perfection where none could exist. The pack's rules, the expectations, the constant judgment—it all wrapped around my throat like a tightening noose. So whenever I could, I fled into the forest, where I could finally unleash Don… and the rage coiled inside me.
That day was no different.
I hadn't gone far when I sensed it—another presence among the trees. The air sharpened, every sound and scent snapping into focus. A girl stood in the clearing. When I realized she was one of Emily's friends, my irritation flared instantly.
"Alpha Derek!" she called out, her voice clear, defiant.
"Shift," I growled in wolf form, my voice rumbling through the trees.
The confusion in her eyes only fueled my temper.
"I… I don't know how," she murmured.
Perfect. An immature pup.
I shifted back, my human voice cutting and merciless.
"I told you to shift. Are you really that useless?"
"No, Alpha… I can't," she said, head lowered.
Pathetic.
"What do you mean, you can't?" I snarled. "What kind of wolf are you?"
She lifted her head then, defiance blazing in her gaze.
"One who reached maturity today. One who hasn't gone through her first shift yet."
"Watch your tone, girl!" I snapped, my voice echoing through the forest. "Do you know who you're talking to?"
"Enough," Don warned, his voice vibrating with threat inside my mind. "She hasn't found her wolf. Leave her."
"I won't tolerate disrespect," I growled, my body trembling with barely contained fury.
"Respect is earned," she shot back, unshaken. "And you've done nothing to earn mine."
Don roared inside my head—but it was too late. Rage took control. I grabbed her by the throat, the air around us tightening as if the forest itself were watching.
"Enough!" I thundered. "I am your Alpha!"
"As your Alpha, I command you not to shift today."
When I released her, terror flooded her face.
"This will teach you your place. You're nothing more than a servant. You'll never be anything else."
I left her there in the clearing. The shadows retreated, the forest settling back into uneasy calm. Yet my thoughts kept circling her—her defiant eyes, her voice.
"She deserved it," I told myself.
"You were cruel," Don growled. "A leader doesn't act like that."
"I didn't ask your opinion," I snapped, forcing myself to regain control.
He fell silent.
And worse—I couldn't shift.
The tension stayed with me all day, a slow-burning fire under my skin.
When I entered my chambers, the familiar heavy air pressed in on me. They called it the Alpha's suite, but to me it felt like an oversized cage.
Dark wood lined the walls, thick handwoven rugs muffling every step. Everything was expensive, meticulously chosen: a massive desk stacked with neatly ordered documents and seals, portraits of past Alphas staring down at me with the same judging eyes, as if asking whether I was worthy.
The bed stood at the center, wide and imposing. Too large for one person. The Luna's place was empty, a presence felt precisely because it wasn't there.
I tore off my shirt and dragged my fingers through my hair. Don stirred restlessly but said nothing. The silence between us was rare—and unsettling.
The image of the forest lingered. Her face. That defiant expression. Her voice. It irritated me more than it should have. Emily's friend. A nobody. A servant's daughter who didn't know her place.
And yet—
My jaw tightened, as if even thinking about her angered me.
That afternoon, Clarissa clung to me. Loud. Provocative. Needy. Exactly what I thought I needed.
"Derek, stop! Someone might see us," she laughed as she pulled me down the corridor.
"I don't care," I muttered, dragging her closer. "I only want you."
"Not here," she giggled, slipping from my grasp. "Come on."
I was about to follow when it hit me.
Vanilla. Gardenia.
The scent crushed everything else. Warm. Inviting. Something that made my chest ache.
"Is she my mate?" I asked instinctively.
Don didn't answer.
Anger flared again. I turned away from the scent and followed Clarissa instead. When her hand slid over my chest, I let her. Her skin was warm, her touch confident, demanding. She knew exactly what I wanted—oblivion.
I pulled her to me. The kiss was rough, rushed, filled with tension. Clarissa moaned as I gripped her waist, her nails digging into my shoulders. She never asked questions. Never slowed down.
We stumbled toward the bed, clothes discarded, movements colliding. There was no tenderness here—only hunger. Raw, uncontrolled desire. Bodies speaking where words failed.
Clarissa collapsed against me, breathless, and I let the moment swallow me whole. Let it erase thought. Let it drown the memory of the forest, the defiant stare, Don's silence.
When it was over, I turned away.
"Derek, this—" she began, gasping.
"Leave," I said without looking at her.
"But Derek—"
"I said get out!" I snarled.
She grabbed her clothes and fled.
I didn't watch her go.
I was alone again. And once more, that scent filled my mind. Sweet. Unexplainable. Calling.
And Don's silence—far more ominous than any roar.
Something had shifted.
And I knew it.
The real chaos was only just beginning.