Page 68 of The Alpha King’s Hidden Mute Mate

On the fourth day, I woke up.

More than woke up—I remembered.

Those memories I'd forgotten for over a decade came flooding back like a broken dam. I remembered the white stone house from my childhood, the lighthouse on the cliff, the salty taste of sea wind. I remembered a woman's face—her features resembled mine, laugh lines crinkling at her eyes—my mother's face.

I remembered her holding me, crying.

"The prophet said she'll spread the Siren's voice," Mother told Father, voice low, but every word pierced my heart like needles. "They say her voice can control minds, bring disaster..."

I remembered that night. My parents lifted me from bed and wrapped me in a thick cloak. Mother pressed something cold against my throat—a stone carved with runes, glowing faintly. She chanted words I couldn't understand, and then I felt something sink down, deep into my body, sealed away.

"Now they won't find you." Mother kissed my forehead, tears dropping on my face. "You'll forget everything. Forget us, forget your identity. You'll grow up safe and be ordinary. Forgive us, child. Forgive us."

I saw firelight. Heard my parents screaming. Saw people burst into our home, swords flashing cold, blood spattering.

Then someone carried me, running desperately. I started burning with fever, consciousness blurring.

When I woke again, I was an orphan with no past. Didn't know where I came from, who my parents were, why my throat was silent.

I only knew my name was Mia.

The nuns at the orphanage gave me that name—they said it was embroidered on my clothes. I thought about it countless times afterward—Mother must have stitched it there herself, afraid I'd forget even my own name.

I grew up in that orphanage. Because I couldn't speak, no family wanted me. When I was older, I worked there, surviving on meager wages.

Until that day by the river. I fell, watching Zane, hatred surging, and I spoke my first words.

Rejecting my fated mate.

In that moment, I heard something shatter.

Like chains breaking, a seal lifting, power that had slept for twenty years finally waking. My voice burst from my throat with a penetration and resonance I couldn't understand.

Later, after I recovered, my voice grew stronger each day. I started singing in bars, then small venues, then music festivals, then national tours. I took the stage name Vela—ancient word for "sail," symbolizing voyage, searching, restless motion.

I wasn't that helpless little girl anymore. I had my own power, my own career, a daughter who needed my protection.

Lily's father—I'd never told anyone about him. That memory hurt too much to touch.

Lily was mine. Only mine.

"Mommy," Lily tugged my sleeve, pulling me from my thoughts. "You're spacing out."

I snapped back, smiling as I ruffled her hair. "Mommy was thinking about which dress to wear onstage tonight."

"The blue one!" Lily lit up immediately. "The sparkly one! You look prettiest in that!"

"Then that's what I'll wear."

I stood and walked to the rack, taking down the deep blue performance dress. The hem was covered in tiny crystals that sparkled like starlight under the lights. I'd had it custom-made for this tour, every crystal hand-sewn. When I wore it, I felt like I was draped in a night sky.

Lily sat nearby, swinging her legs, humming songs from my new album. Perfect pitch, strong rhythm—she'd inherited my talent completely.

"Alright," I finished my makeup and crouched to meet Lily's eyes. "Mommy has to work now. Be good for Aunt Emma, and when I get back, I'll bring you ice cream, okay?"

"Okay!" Lily answered brightly, then threw her arms around my neck and planted a loud kiss on my cheek. "Go get 'em, Mommy!"

I held her, eyes closed, memorizing the warmth of this moment.