The Alpha Mate

Chapter 49

He's doing better without you. He won the tournament. He earned his rank. He has friends. A life. A life. Atlas.

My lip curled in disgust, nails digging into my palms until little crescents of blood welled up beneath my nails. The sharp sting of broken skin was grounding—but not enough. Not nearly enough to dull what I felt.

The rage was still there. Hot and boiling, consuming everything in its path. It pulsed through my veins like fire, searing every rational thought I tried to cling to, burning away anything that wasn't pure fury. It lit up my nerves, set my blood ablaze, made my vision blur red at the edges.

My fists trembled at my sides as I stared at the floor of my chamber, eyes burning with the force of my hatred, my breathing ragged and harsh. My wolf, Gale, prowled inside me, equally incensed, teeth bared in a silent snarl of barely leashed violence. I could feel him pacing, restless, hungry for blood.

My pathetic brother had thrived. He was supposed to fall. He was supposed to crawl through the mud and die quietly under the weight of his own worthlessness, buried under his own uselessness like he always had been. That was the natural order. That was how it was meant to be.

He wasn't supposed to rise. Not ahead of me. Not instead of me. Never instead of me. He is the curse and a mistake. A stain on our bloodline.

The frail, whimpering shell of a child who should've been the afterthought—not the firstborn. Not the one born first, marked by the moon like some kind of omen, like some kind of blessing when it was clearly a curse.

That was my birthright. My destiny. My place in the world. I was meant to be the one who rose to power, who commanded respect, who shaped the future of our pack.

But Atlas had taken everything. His quiet, cowardly existence had always mocked me just by surviving, just by continuing to breathe when he should have faded into nothing years ago. And now he had power. A place. Friends who respected him. Respect he never earned, never deserved.

While I, the chosen one, the golden child, the rightful Alpha, still stood here empty-handed. Waiting. Burning with unfulfilled promise. Watching my destiny slip through my fingers because of him.

How could that be? How could he possibly be winning when I'm the one fate chose? When every sign, every prophecy pointed to me?

"Because he cheated," I whispered quietly, voice trembling with the force of my rage. "He ran. He stole what should've been mine."

Gale growled in agreement, his fury barely leashed inside me, mirroring my own violent thoughts.

"He was never meant to live past the choosing," I hissed, pacing my room like a caged animal, my footsteps heavy against the floor. "We should've ended him then. He's a threat to the prophecy. Always has been. Always will be."

He hadn't just survived. He'd flourished. Bloomed like some kind of twisted flower in foreign soil.

That weakling—the disgrace with the crescent birthmark, the boy who never shifted, the boy who couldn't even speak above a whisper without trembling, who cowered in corners and flinched at raised voices—that pathetic excuse for a wolf had taken what was mine. Had stolen my destiny right out from under me.

And now… he thought he was safe? He thought distance would protect him? He thought he could build a new life, far from our pack, far from me, far from the consequences of his existence, and escape the fate the Moon Goddess carved into our souls when we were born?

No. I slammed my fist against the wall, the sharp crack echoing through the room, plaster crumbling beneath my knuckles. No!

"I'll tear it all down," I growled through gritted teeth, my voice low and venomous, each word dripping with deadly promise. "Every piece of his pathetic little life. His rank, his friends, his wolf, his happiness. I'll strip it all away until there's nothing left but the broken shell he always was."

Gale stirred, silent but savage, his presence a dark promise in my mind, feeding my rage with his own. Yes. That was the path. That was what needed to be done. That was justice.

He didn't deserve comfort. Or companionship. Or hope. He didn't deserve freedom. He didn't deserve to live, to breathe, to exist. Not while I still didn't have what I was owed. Not while the prophecy remained unfulfilled. Not while his very existence mocked everything I was meant to become.

He was born to die for me to rise in glory above his pathetic dead body. I was the stronger one. The smarter one. The chosen one.

Every elder had said so since we were pups, their words ringing with certainty, their eyes seeing what everyone else refused to acknowledge. Every omen, every reading, every vision shown in moon water and smoke—they'd all pointed to me. To me. Always to me.

And none of it would be realized until he was gone. Until his blood fed the ground beneath my feet. Until the debt was paid and the balance restored.

The prophecy spoke of the rise of an Alpha born of dual blood, shadowed by a cursed brother.

The Alpha who would lead the fractured packs into a new era. Who would cleanse and restore the bloodline. Who would reign through fire, ash and glory.

Atlas's death was the offering. The sacrifice. The necessary cost. And I had delayed it far too long.

"Forgive me, Moon Goddess," I whispered, voice low and reverent, filled with fervent devotion. "I was soft. I hesitated. I let him live. I let him escape."

My hands tightened around the edge of the dresser until the wood creaked beneath my grip, threatening to splinter. "But I won't fail again."

This time, I will finish it. I would find him—no matter how deep into the woods he hid, no matter how many warriors he surrounded himself with, no matter how strong he thought he'd become. And I would drag him back to our den.

To the altar. Where he belongs. Where he was always meant to end up. Where his blood would finally serve its purpose.

Gale's growl turned to something like laughter in my mind—low, cold and wild. He would help me. Together, we were unstoppable.

Together, we would end Atlas's life. We would spill his blood beneath the old stones, the way the prophecy demanded. We would become the Alpha this land was owed. The Alpha who was destined.

But first—we needed to track him. Learn about his new life. His weaknesses. His ties. His friends. His pack. His routines. We needed to know everything. Every detail. Every vulnerability.

"I'll tear out every secret he's hiding," I vowed, eyes gleaming with violent intent, my reflection in the window showing a face twisted with hatred and righteous fury. "And when I'm done, there'll be nothing left of him." Nothing at all. Just ash and memory.