Alpha's STOLEN Mate Chapter 15

Kaius

I stared down at the claw marks raking across my ribs, the wounds still tender despite five days of healing. My regenerative abilities surpassed most wolves—cuts that would take others weeks to mend closed on me within hours. Yet these particular injuries remained stubbornly visible, thin silver lines etched into my skin like some kind of permanent reminder.

*White wolf claws. Of course they'd leave marks.*

The memory of her in wolf form crashed over me again, as it had countless times over the past five days. Massive and ethereal, her coat the color of fresh snow under daylight, so pure it seemed to glow with its own inner light. She'd moved with liquid grace, every step radiating power that made my own wolf want to submit—and simultaneously want to dominate her completely.

Beautiful. Deadly. Mine.

And completely fucking insane.

Rage flared in my chest, hot and familiar. Not because she'd hidden her true nature from me—though that was its own betrayal. No, what made my blood boil was her sheer stupidity. How dare she choose death over returning to my pack? She should have known I wouldn't truly harm her. Should have trusted that whatever punishment I might devise would be infinitely preferable to splattering herself across the rocks below.

*How could she be so fucking reckless?*

From that height, survival was impossible. No wolf, white or otherwise, could survive a fall like that. Basic physics didn't care about legends or bloodlines.

Yet I'd sent search parties anyway. Dozens of my best trackers combing every inch of the ravine below, following the river for miles in case the current had carried her body downstream. Five days of methodical searching had yielded nothing—not a scrap of fabric, not a drop of blood, nothing.

The great hall felt cavernous around me as I slumped in my throne, the massive space echoing with emptiness. My warriors gave me a wide berth, their usual casual banter replaced by careful silence. They could sense my mood, the barely leashed violence that had been building since I'd watched her white form disappear over that cliff edge.

Smart wolves, staying out of my way.

"Kaius."

Frost's voice cut through my brooding like a blade. I looked up to see my beta approaching with that particular expression that meant he was about to say something I didn't want to hear.

"This time you really fucked up," he said without preamble, stopping directly in front of my throne. His usually diplomatic demeanor had been replaced by something harder, more confrontational than I'd ever seen from him. "You shouldn't have killed that young wolf in front of her. You pushed her to jump."

I studied his face, surprised by the steel in his tone. Frost had always been the reasonable one, the voice of calm counsel when my temper ran hot. This direct challenge was... unexpected.

"She-wolves don't understand war," I said, my voice carefully controlled. "Apparently neither do you. Cut the grass at the roots, Frost. I killed that pup's entire family in front of him—did you think he'd go home and forget? You should know better than anyone how many innocent wolves have died in these border raids."

"That doesn't mean—"

"Enough." I cut him off with a sharp gesture. "What's done is done. Do you have any leads?"

Frost shook his head, but his expression remained stubborn. "No concrete evidence. But I believe she's still alive."

A bitter laugh escaped my throat. "Since when did my beta develop such a fascination with a dead rogue?"

"She's not dead," Frost insisted, his voice gaining conviction. "In my birth pack, there was always a legend—when the white wolf appears, wars end. And white wolves are supposed to be immortal, unkillable. I don't think she'd die easily, not even from a cliff that high."

I stared at him, momentarily taken aback by his certainty. Frost had always been practical, logical—hearing him spout folklore was jarring.

"Now that I think about it," he continued, warming to his theme, "she did show that white wolf spirit, that impossible resilience. Maybe the Moon Goddess paired you with exactly the mate you need—someone who can temper your violence, help you rule with wisdom instead of just fear." His voice dropped. "You know our conflict with the rogue packs is escalating. Maybe we need a different approach."

I wanted to dismiss his words as superstitious nonsense, but something in his tone made me pause. Still, the rational part of my mind rebelled against putting faith in ancient stories.

What truly frustrated me was the timing. Why hadn't the Moon Goddess revealed Elowen's nature four years ago? If I'd known she was a white wolf, if I'd understood what she truly was...

*No. Focus on what matters now.*

"Send word to Commander Theron and his mate," I said, fixing Frost with a meaningful look. "I want them here tomorrow."

Frost frowned. "Tomorrow? Kaius, given their distance from the southwestern border, they can't possibly make it in a single day. And more importantly, tomorrow is the quarterly pack assembly—you know these alphas aren't truly loyal. They need to see your strength, your authority. This is hardly the time to be distracted by personal matters."

"I don't give a damn," I said with cold indifference. "If they dare to rebel, I'll simply slaughter them all. Wouldn't be the first time."

Frost studied my expression for a long moment before speaking quietly. "You want to know about her transformation, don't you? How a wolf who couldn't shift on her eighteenth birthday became the most legendary bloodline in our world." His voice grew thoughtful.

"Exactly!" I said, my voice carrying an edge of frustrated curiosity. "Aren't you curious how that's even possible?"

Frost smiled knowingly, understanding flickering in his eyes. "Of course. I'll send the message."

After Frost departed, I found myself wandering back to my chambers like a ghost drawn to familiar haunts. The massive room felt too large, too empty, filled with shadows that seemed to mock my solitude.

Her scent still lingered.

It was faint now, after five days, but unmistakable—vanilla and wildflowers with that underlying steel that had always driven me to distraction. I sank onto the edge of the bed where she'd slept, where I'd nearly claimed her completely, and breathed deeply.

The mate bond stirred in my chest, that treacherous connection that should have died with her. Instead, it pulsed with a hollow ache that made me want to tear something apart.

*Am I missing her?*

The thought hit me like a physical blow. I shoved it away immediately, focusing instead on the rage that was safer, more familiar. Missing her was weakness. Mourning a disobedient mate who'd chosen death over submission was pathetic.

I needed to prove to myself that she meant nothing. That her loss was simply the annoyance of losing a valuable asset, nothing more.

My mental voice reached out through the pack link, summoning the usual trio of willing she-wolves. Vera, the blonde with the generous curves who knew exactly how to use her mouth. Celine, the redhead who never complained no matter how rough I got. Diana, the brunette who'd learned to anticipate my every preference.

They arrived within minutes, dressed to entice in flowing silks that left little to the imagination. Beautiful wolves from good families, eager to please their Alpha King in hopes of earning permanent favor.

"My king," Vera purred, her voice honey-sweet as she approached the bed. "You seem... tense."

I stripped off my shirt, revealing the muscles they'd explored countless times before. Usually, the sight of their hungry gazes was enough to stir my interest, their familiar scents triggering automatic arousal.

Tonight, I felt nothing.

They climbed onto the bed with practiced grace, hands roaming over my chest and shoulders with skilled expertise. Celine's lips found my neck while Diana's fingers traced the lines of my abdomen. Everything they did was perfect, calculated to drive me wild with need.

Instead, I felt increasingly detached, watching their ministrations as if from a great distance.

When their hands moved lower, seeking to coax a response from my uninterested body, revulsion hit me like a physical force. Their scents—too cloying, too artificial—made my wolf recoil in disgust. Everything about them suddenly seemed wrong, inadequate, a pale shadow of what I truly wanted.

*What I couldn't have.*

"Get off." The words came out harsher than I'd intended, backed by enough Alpha authority to make all three women freeze instantly.

When they hesitated, confusion and hurt flickering across their faces, my patience snapped completely. I shoved them away from me with enough force to send them tumbling off the bed, their carefully arranged silk gowns pooling around them on the stone floor.

"I said get off!" I roared, my voice echoing off the chamber walls. "All of you—out!"

They scrambled to their feet, wide-eyed and trembling. Vera opened her mouth as if to speak, but one look at my expression sent her fleeing toward the door with the others close behind.

As the door slammed shut behind them, I slumped forward, head in my hands. The silence that followed felt deafening.

*Fuck.*

I'd just humiliated three pack members for the crime of not being her. For not having silver hair that caught moonlight like liquid mercury, or amber eyes that blazed with defiance even in the face of death. For not being the impossible she-wolf who'd chosen to plummet into oblivion rather than submit to my will.

The mate bond pulsed again, that persistent ache that reminded me of everything I'd lost. Everything I'd driven away with my own stupidity.