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HIS to CLAIM ALPHA ZEKE Novel Cover

HIS to CLAIM ALPHA ZEKE

He marked her like property.Then Completely turned on her Cecelia was never meant to survive the bond, she was just meant to bleed for it.chosen for her pack use for an alignment, discarded when she became inconvenient.zeke took everything from her: her freedom, her future,and something she never meant to give; her heart But she didn't die. She learned. Now she's back, unrecognizable, with poison in her smile and vengeance stitched into her skin. His mark still burns on her body.But the girl he broke is gone And the woman she's become want nothing to do with him she doesn't want his love She wants him to break And this time, she'll make sure he stays broken
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Chapter 14

Layla's POV

Cameron stood at my window, his small hands pressed against the glass, watching the guards patrol the courtyard below. He'd been quiet all morning, too quiet for a boy who

usually bounced off walls with energy.

"Mama, why is everyone talking about the ghost boy?"

I set down my teacup carefully, forcing my expression into something gentle. "What ghost boy,

sweetheart?"

"The one who looks like Papa." Cameron turned from the window, his blue eyes confused. "Sarah at the kitchens said Papa has another son. A ghost boy who came back from the dead with his dead mama."

My fingers tightened around the teacup handle until I thought it might snap. The staff were gossiping. Of course they were gossiping. Cecelia's return was the biggest scandal to hit the

pack in years.

"Come here, baby." I held out my arms and Cameron climbed into my

lap, his small body warm and solid against mine. Real. Mine. "That woman, Cecelia, she's not a ghost. She's Papa's old

mate from a long time ago."

"Before you?"

"Yes, before me." The lie tasted bitter but necessary. "She went away and now she's back, claiming she has a son."

"Does she?" Cameron's voice went small. "Does Papa have

another son?"

I could lie. I should lie. But Cameron was nearly four years old,

smart enough to piece together truth from the whispers around him. Better he heard it from me, shaped the way I

needed him to understand it.

"She says so," I said carefully. "But you're Papa's son, Cameron. You're the one he raised, the one he loves. That other boy, if he even exists, is just a stranger."

"But everyone keeps talking about him." Cameron's voice wobbled. "They say he's missing and Papa is looking for him. Papa never looks for me like that."

"That's because you're safe here with me." I stroked his hair, the same golden color as Zeke's even if the genetics didn't match. "This woman is trying to trick Papa. She wants to

take your place, make Papa forget about you."

Cameron's eyes widened. "She wants to replace me?"

"She wants to replace both of us." I let real fear bleed into my voice. "If Papa finds her son, if he believes that boy is

his, where does that leave you? Where does that leave me?"

"But Papa loves us." Cameron sounded less certain now. "He said he loves me."

"He does love you, baby. But this woman, she's dangerous. She's going to try to turn Papa against us." I tilted Cameron's chin up so he looked directly at me. "We have to be strong.

We have to show Papa that we're his real family, not some ghost from the past."

Cameron nodded slowly, processing this information the way children do, filtering it through their limited understanding of adult complexities. I could see the

jealousy taking root, the insecurity I'd carefully planted beginning to grow.

Good. Let him be confused and hurt. Let him act out. It would only prove my point that Cecelia's return was destroying the stability we'd built here.

"Can I go play now?" Cameron asked.

"Of course, sweetheart. But remember what I said. Be careful around that woman if you see her. She's not your friend."

Cameron climbed down from my

lap and ran out of the room, his little feet pounding against the hardwood floors. The moment he was gone, my gentle expression dropped.

They'd found the phone. The burner phone I'd been stupid enough to keep hidden in my jewelry box instead of destroying it. The investigators had torn through my quarters yesterday while I watched helplessly, unable to stop them

without admitting guilt.

I'd seen the evidence bags. The phone. The bank statements showing the cash withdrawals I'd

made to pay for information about Cecelia and her brat. The receipt from the private investigator I'd hired to track them

down in Seacreek.

It was only a matter of time before they unlocked the phone and saw the messages. The coordination with the woman I'd

hired to gather intelligence. The planning. The timeline of Golden's kidnapping.

I should run. Pack a bag and disappear before Zeke had me arrested. But where would I go?

I had no allies outside this pack, no resources beyond what Zeke

provided. And Cameron, I couldn't take Cameron without it looking like a kidnapping of my own.

My hands shook as I poured more tea, the liquid sloshing over the rim of the cup. Three years. I'd had three years of relative peace after Cecelia's death. Three years of being the

closest thing to Luna this pack had, of raising Cameron in the palace, of believing that eventually Zeke would forget about his dead mate and see what was right in front of him.

Then she came back. Rose from the grave like some avenging spirit

with her tragic story and her convenient son. And Zeke had looked at her the way he used to look at me, back before the

war destroyed everything between our families.

A knock at my door made me jump.

"What?"

One of the junior guards poked his head in. "Miss Layla, Master Cameron is in the south garden. He's upset and

asking for you."

I set down my teacup and smoothed my dress. "I'll be right there."

The south garden was one of Cameron's favorite places to play. It had a small fountain and flowering bushes that attracted butterflies in the summer. I found him there now, his face red and streaked with tears.

"Cameron, what's wrong?"

"She's mean," he sobbed. "She said I was being a brat."

I looked around and spotted Cecelia sitting on a bench near the rose bushes. She stood when she saw me, her expression weary.

"What did you do to my son?" I

demanded, moving to Cameron and pulling him against my side.

"I didn't do anything to him." Cecelia's voice was calm but I heard the edge underneath. "He threw rocks at the fountain

and splashed water all over my clothes. When I asked him to stop, he called me names."

"He's a child," I snapped. "What did you expect?

You show up here claiming to be his father's true mate, flaunting your supposed son, making Cameron feel unwanted in his own home."

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