Page 1 of Fated Alpha Baby

Prologue - Hannah

Eight Years Ago

It always felt like I was hiding, sticking to the shadows in my desperate attempts to remain unseen. Unnoticed. Like I didn’t exist.

Shadows were my friends because they couldn’t speak. Their silence matched my own, complementing the loud storms in my head. The voices blaring. The ugly words thrown my way.

I have never known peace.

Not even in the isolated cabin near the edge of the ridge.

My breath comes in hot pants, my ears drumming with the sharp alertness that I might have mistaken for my wolf. If I had one.

But omegas like me—shiftless and useless—shouldn’t mistake heightened senses for a wolf that doesn’t exist. It’s been nearly a year since my eighteenth birthday, and I still haven’t received my wolf.

It’s no wonder I’m the target of the pack’s disdain and foulness, and I always find myself running away from their ruthless, belittling comments that could turn into physical attacks if I’m not careful.

My heart hammers in my chest as I make a run for it now, the pack meeting having turned into a violent slew of daggers directed at me as soon as it was adjourned. We should have been celebrating the full moon around the bonfire, but just like peace, I have never known celebration.

The closest thing to warmth I’ve ever felt is the tingling in my fingertips every time I’m the target of mistreatment. Adrenaline has always been my best friend, coming to pick me up and spurring me into flight. Fight or flight? I only know the latter.

And I would be able to outrun the others if I had a wolf like them.

I know I can’t escape when the first shift happens behind me, a thunderous gallop of wolf paws vibrating against the earth and drumming in my ears.

I make a beeline for the eastern ridge, sticking to the tree line where the wolves will have to navigate and dodge the foliage. But even sticking to the shadows is pointless, because they’re going to find me anyway.

Another shift happens behind me, but I don’t bother to glance over my shoulder, too focused on running. Escaping. Putting as much distance as possible between the bullies and me and hoping I can get to my cabin.

A locked door isn’t much to stop them from charging in, but I can try.

The cabin comes into view, bringing with it a wave of relief through the torrent of adrenaline rushing through my veins. I run as fast as I can, leaping over ancient granite and landing on the strip of cobblestone that forms a pathway to my home.

Keeping my head down as I make the final stretch, I’m about to reach the porch stairs when I crash into something solid but warm. The scent of mint enters my airways then. Panting and disoriented, I look up to find a pair of dark, chocolate-brown eyes piercing into my soul.

My heart skips a beat, the adrenaline spiking for a fickle second before it washes away. All that’s left is the tingling sensation in my fingertips, and the relentless need to keep my eyes fixed on the pair that hasn’t left my face.

“Hannah…? What’s going on?” Dark brows furrow as the question comes from a plump set of cool-toned pink lips—a stark contrast to his warm, olive flesh.

I open my mouth to respond, but I can barely form a coherent thought when six feet and five inches of delicious muscle and masculinity tower over me. Being in his presence alone is enough to fight my fears, and when the wolves emerge from the tree line in their rampage of pursuit, I no longer feel afraid.

The alpha’s grandson, the next in line for the mantle, looks up when the wolves come to a halt at the bottom of the cobblestone path. Even though Conan Becker hasn’t been officially sworn in as the alpha, his presence alone commands the attention of the pack. Like a true leader, he steps forward, eyes narrowed on the group that was chasing me as they shift into human form and hang their heads.

“What’s going on?” Conan asks, voice firm and commanding.

The first from the group who has enough courage to face the alpha’s grandson is Nico. “We were tracking the omega, Conan. She wasn’t at her station like she was supposed to be.”

Conan folds his arms without turning back to me, cocking his head to the side. “And where exactly was that supposed to be?”

Another from the group—Kayla—looks up. “She was supposed to be serving drinks.” Kayla turns narrowed eyes on me. “But she wasn’t.”

Conan chuckles, the sound eerie beneath the silver glow of our surroundings as he takes a step forward. “And who exactly put you lot in charge of her duties?”

Quentin and Kayla exchange glances, then someone else steps out from behind.

“The omega stole a gem from Dorothy’s cabinet,” Callum throws the accusation out loud, and my heart plummets as I frown.

I stole a gem out of Dorothy’s cabinet?