The Human Girl Who Tamed Alpha King Chapter 10

"I, Jace Carter, Alpha of the Moon Shadow Pack, descendant of the Primal Wolves, guardian of these sacred lands, do hereby invite you, Gabriel Silverbrook, and your children Lucas and Aria, to join the Moon Shadow Pack. To hunt beneath our moon, to run across our territory, to share in our abundance, and to live under the protection of my strength and leadership. Your enemies shall become our enemies, your blood our blood, your oath binding until death."

Gabriel stepped forward first, his posture formal and respectful.

"I, Gabriel Silverbrook, warrior of the Black Forest Pack, do solemnly accept your invitation, Alpha Jace Carter. I pledge my loyalty, my strength, and my life to you and the Moon Shadow Pack. I shall honor your laws, respect your authority, defend your territory, and protect the pack with my final breath if necessary. My blood is yours to command until the last moon rises."

Jace took the ancient knife and drew it firmly across his palm, then Gabriel's, pressing their bleeding hands together in the traditional warrior's clasp. "Blood to blood, spirit to spirit, the pack accepts you as its own."

Lucas followed, repeating the sacred words with equal reverence. When Jace gripped his hand, I saw my brother wince slightly, the Alpha's strength evident even in this ceremonial context.

Then it was my turn. I stood on slightly shaky legs, gathering my courage to meet those ice-blue eyes directly.

"I, Aria Silverbrook," I began, my voice steadier than I expected, "do hereby accept Alpha Jace Carter's invitation to become part of the Moon Shadow Pack. Though I walk on two legs only, my heart beats with the rhythm of the pack. I pledge my loyalty, my service, and my abilities to the Moon Shadow Pack, to honor its traditions, to respect its hierarchy, and to protect its secrets until my final day." I recited the slightly modified oath Gabriel had taught me during our journey, acknowledging my human status.

"This will sting a bit," Jace said softly, his large hand gently enclosing mine.

The knife bit into my palm—a quick, sharp pain. Then Jace's hand pressed against mine, his warm blood mixing with my own. An unprecedented surge of power flowed into me, nearly taking my breath away.

Time seemed to stop. I felt a connection beyond words, an inexplicable pull toward his warm chest. Jace's eyes darkened, his hand at my waist tightening almost imperceptibly.

We both snapped back to reality simultaneously, becoming aware that Gabriel, Lucas, and Hunter were watching us with surprised expressions.

Jace cleared his throat, releasing my hand slowly, almost reluctantly. "Sorry about that. My power is stronger than most Alphas, but you have nothing to fear."

Gabriel bowed his head respectfully. "We're honored to serve an Alpha of your strength."

Jace cast one final glance at me, then turned to Hunter. "Show the Silverbrook family to their quarters. Make sure they have everything they need. And Hunter—I want extra security in place. If Warren or any hunters come looking for them, I want to know immediately."

As we left his office, I could feel Jace's gaze following me. The strange attraction tugged at me, making me want to turn back. I forced myself to follow Hunter, though my skin still tingled where Jace had touched it.

What just happened in there? My heart was racing, my thoughts scattered like leaves in a windstorm. Why did my body react like that to him? I'd grown up around werewolves my entire life, yet never had I felt such an immediate, overwhelming connection to anyone.

God, that scent! Even now, walking away from him, I could still smell it—wild, powerful. Was this how werewolves felt when they encountered their true mates? But that was impossible! I was human. Completely, entirely human. I couldn't have a true mate, let alone an Alpha like Jace Carter.

And yet... when our blood mingled, when his eyes locked with mine...

I touched my palm where the cut was already healing—faster than any wound I'd ever had before. What did his blood do to me?

Pull yourself together, Aria! I scolded myself. This man—this Alpha—was offering us sanctuary, nothing more. Whatever I felt was probably just gratitude mixed with awe at his power. That has to be it.

GABRIEL

I still remember the day I first brought Aria home, ten years ago. She was seven, clutching a torn stuffed rabbit—the only thing left from her old life. Her parents had been murdered by hunters for refusing to cooperate, choosing death over betraying the supernatural community they loved.

The little girl who walked into our pack house was nothing like the confident young woman sleeping next door now. Back then, Aria was a ghost—silent, withdrawn, flinching at sudden movements. She'd witnessed things no child should see, and the trauma had stolen her voice.

I'd hoped pack warmth would help her heal. Instead, it made things worse.

The other pups sensed her difference immediately. Children can be cruel when they don't understand. They'd whisper about the "human girl" when adults weren't listening. They excluded her from games, pushed her around during training, called her weak for not shifting.

What broke my heart was that Aria never complained. Never came to me with tears or accusations. She'd return from activities with new bruises and dirt in her hair, but she'd just nod when I asked if she'd had fun and retreat to her room.

I tried talking to other parents. They'd shrug and say "kids will be kids" or suggest Aria needed to "toughen up" for werewolf society. It made my wolf snarl with rage, but I couldn't fight every battle without making things worse.

The breaking point came on a gray October afternoon, about six months after I'd brought her home. Aria was still adjusting to pack life, still jumping at sudden noises and speaking in whispers when she spoke at all. I'd been in a pack meeting when Lucas burst in, panic written all over his young face.

"Dad, some of the older kids were picking on Aria again," he said breathlessly. "They said she didn't belong here, that she was just a burden on the pack. She ran into the forest crying, and I can't find her anywhere."

My blood turned to ice. The forest could be dangerous, especially for a traumatized seven-year-old, and darkness was falling fast. I shifted immediately, following her scent trail deeper into the woods than any child should have wandered alone.