My Alpha Forced Me to Save His Chosen Mate

The first blow caught me across the face, sending me sprawling onto the dirt floor of the underground fighting pit. Blood trickled from my split lip as I scrambled to my feet, eyes darting around the circular arena carved into the basement of the pack house.

"Again," Caspian commanded from his elevated seat above the pit. His voice carried that unmistakable Alpha tone that made my bones vibrate. "The rogues need to learn control, and you need to learn your place."

I swallowed hard, facing the feral wolf before me. His eyes were wild, unfocused with rage and madness. This was my third day in the pits, and each session left me more broken than before.

"Begin," Beta Marcus shouted, standing beside Caspian.

The rogue lunged without warning. I dodged clumsily, my body still aching from yesterday's "training." My wolf, usually so quiet, stirred anxiously within me.

*Stay down*, I told her. *Don't fight back. That's what they want.*

The rogue's claws raked across my shoulder, tearing through my thin shirt and into my flesh. I bit back a scream, refusing to give Caspian the satisfaction.

"Pathetic," he muttered, lounging in his chair. "Can't even last a minute."

I forced myself to stand straighter despite the burning pain. As I faced the rogue again, I caught a whiff of his scent—filthy, untamed, but somehow familiar. Without thinking, I released a small amount of my own scent, that unique blend of rain and wild jasmine.

The rogue froze mid-lunge. His wild eyes locked onto mine, and for a brief moment, something like recognition flickered across his face. He actually stepped back, lowering his head slightly.

"What's this?" Caspian growled, rising from his seat. "Marcus!"

"She's using her scent to manipulate him," Marcus hissed. "It's unnatural."

Caspian's eyes blazed black as he descended from his platform into the pit. "You dare?"

Before I could react, he grabbed my throat, lifting me until my feet barely touched the ground. "Your scent is a curse," he snarled, his face inches from mine. "Your existence is a mockery."

He threw me to the ground and turned to Marcus. "Get the unranked ones. Teach her what happens when she tries to use her... abilities."

What followed was a blur of pain and terror. Three unranked wolves—those without pack status, barely more than animals themselves—were unleashed on me. Their fists and claws rained down as I curled into a ball, trying to protect my vital organs.

"Stop," I gasped, tasting blood. "Please..."

But Caspian just watched, his expression unreadable as silver-laced claws carved permanent scars into my flesh.

---

Two weeks later, I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the marble floors of the main hallway when I heard the commotion. Voices echoed through the corridor—excited whispers and hurried footsteps.

"Isabel has returned!"

My head snapped up, heart freezing in my chest. Isabel Fox—Caspian's chosen mate who had abandoned him on their ceremony day.

I pressed myself against the wall, trying to become invisible as wolves rushed past. Then I saw her—a vision in designer clothes, her platinum blonde hair cascading down her back as she was escorted through the pack house like royalty.

Her eyes met mine for just a fraction of a second. Recognition flashed across her perfect features, followed by something darker—calculation.

I quickly returned to my task, scrubbing frantically at a nonexistent stain. But it was too late.

"There she is," Isabel's voice rang out, sweet as poison. "The little Omega who's been keeping Caspian company while I was away."

Footsteps approached. I kept my head down, but could feel her presence looming over me.

"Look at me when I speak to you," she commanded.

Slowly, I raised my eyes. Up close, she was even more beautiful—and more dangerous. Her scent was artificial, cloying, nothing like the natural allure of a true mate.

"Interesting," she murmured, studying me. "So this is what a rejected mate looks like."

Before I could respond, she staggered dramatically, clutching at her chest. "Oh!" she gasped, collapsing to the floor with practiced precision. "My heart!"

Wolves rushed to her side as she convulsed on the marble floor I'd just cleaned.

"Help me," she whimpered, her perfectly applied makeup somehow producing tears. "The wolfsbane... it's killing me."

---

In Caspian's office, I stood trembling as Isabel reclined on his leather couch, looking remarkably recovered from her dramatic collapse.

"It's her fault," Isabel sobbed, pointing a manicured finger at me. "Her cursed presence is making my condition worse."

Caspian paced before his desk, his movements agitated. "Explain."

"The wolfsbane poisoning I suffered in Europe," Isabel said, her voice breaking perfectly. "It's damaged my wolf core. I need... special care."

I watched in disbelief as she manipulated him with ease, weaving lies that even I could see through.

"And you think her presence is affecting your recovery?" Caspian asked, his voice dangerously soft.

Isabel nodded weakly. "She's your fated mate," she whispered. "Her very existence draws power from you... from us."

Caspian turned to me, his eyes already black with rage. His wolf was surfacing, responding to the mention of our bond.

"You," he growled. "You will pay for this."