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Alpha Marcel

Marcel is a lethal weapon, an Alpha executioner dedicated to purging the world of rogues. His life of duty is upended when the mate bond links him to Lia Volkov, a woman from the very group he is sworn to destroy. Despite his prejudice, his wolf refuses to stay silent. However, Lia shocks him by initiating a rejection. As rival factions hunt her and the pack demands her death, the line between predator and protector vanishes for a hunter who may finally be brought to his knees.
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Chapter 3

Lia:

I woke up choking on air.

My body jerked upright before my mind caught up, heart slamming so hard it hurt. White walls replaced trees. The smell of antiseptic burned my nose. Lights, too bright, too clean, made my vision swim.

Not the forest.

Not dead.

The realization didn’t calm me. It made panic crash down harder, my heart racing faster than it should have.

I swung my legs off the bed, ignoring the sharp protest in my arm and shoulder. Pain flared, grounding and terrifying all at once. Someone had patched me up. Someone had brought me somewhere.

Pack territory.

I pushed to my feet, unsteady, instincts screaming to run.

“Easy,” a woman’s voice said, calm but firm. “Breathe. I know that you are scared, but you need to breathe.”

A hand lifted, not to grab, not to restrain, but to stop me without touching me. Authority radiated from her in a way that made my wolf hesitate despite herself.

“Slowly,” she added. “In. And out. You need to calm yourself, child. I know that you don’t want to, but you must.”

I didn’t listen.

I knew better than to trust strangers in packs.

I took another step, dizziness crashing into me like a wall. The room tilted. My knees nearly buckled.

“You won’t make it past the door, your body is still too weak. And frankly, I don’t even think that you would know where to go.” she said gently. “Plus, no one is chasing you here. You can allow yourself to sit. And as much as I wouldn’t have said it, you are safe as my son bids it.”

I froze.

The woman stood a few feet away, composed, observant. Silver threaded through her dark hair, her posture straight, her presence… steady. Alpha-adjacent. Powerful in a quieter way. Her eyes softened as they met mine, not pity. Recognition.

Fear.

She saw it immediately.

“You’re terrified, and we are not going to get anywhere with this.” she said, not accusing. Stating a fact. “And that tells me more than your scent ever could. An Alpha born who turned rogue.”

“You know nothing.” I said, and she smiled.

“I know enough.” She said, looking me in the eye. “And I think that the two of us know that I am not wrong in my statement.”

My chest rose and fell too fast. “Where am I?” I demanded, my voice hoarse.

“Safe,” she replied. “As I said, my son wants you safe. No one is going to harm you.”

I laughed, short, broken. “That’s a lie. This is no safe ground.”

“No,” she said. “It isn’t. I have no reason to lie to you. And if I, or anyone, wanted you hurt, trust me, child… you would have been.”

Her gaze flicked briefly to the door, then back to me. “Sit,” she instructed. “Before you collapse. You are already fighting back to balance, and your wolf has yet to heal. You should exert yourself simply because you are choosing to be stubborn.”

“I don’t trust you.” I said, and she smiled.

“You don’t need to. Your body will do the job before you can choose to say another word.” She said, and though I wanted to object… she was right. My body betrayed me, sinking back onto the bed as my strength drained away.

“How am I alive?” I asked quietly. “I was… I should have been dead.”

Her lips pressed together for a moment before she answered. “My son brought you here. You were bleeding. You were taken care of. You just need to heal for now.”

The words didn’t make sense.

“Your… son?” I echoed. “You keep talking about him, but you never mentioned…”

“Yes, my son.” She stepped closer now, close enough that I could smell her properly, pack, authority, warmth.

“What?”

“You were unconscious when you arrived. Injured. He carried you himself.” She said, not bothering to stop, to allow me to think, to regather my thoughts. “You would have died if he hadn’t.”

My mind scrambled, memories colliding and refusing to line up.

The bond.

The rejection.

The growls.

Violence exploding around me…

Him.

Marcel.

My breath caught painfully as his face surfaced in my mind, sharp and unyielding, his voice low and certain as the world went dark.

You’re safe now.

“No,” I whispered. “That doesn’t make sense. He kills…”

The woman watched the realization dawn, something unreadable crossing her expression.

“You remember him,” she said, stopping me. “And to say the least, you know of him.”

Before I could answer, before I could decide whether to deny it, the door opened.

The room changed instantly.

Power filled the space, heavy and unmistakable, pressing into my skin like a warning. My wolf stirred despite everything, despite the rejection, despite my fear.

He… Marcel, walked in.

His gaze went straight to me.

“Mother,” he said calmly, breaking the tension without raising his voice, “please give us a moment.”

The woman, Isobel, my mind supplied distantly, studied us both. Then she nodded once.

“I’ll be nearby,” she said, her eyes lingering on me. “You are safe here, child. Remember that. If we wanted you dead… you wouldn’t have survived long enough to wake up now…”

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