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Reborn As The Alphas' Hated Mate Novel Cover

Reborn As The Alphas' Hated Mate

I woke up in a lavish bedroom, only to find a man built like a god of war chained to my wall, glaring at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. A glowing apparition appeared and told me I had died in a car crash and transmigrated into the body of Elara, a tyrant Luna. Worse, the chained man was Ryker, one of my six fated mates whom the original Elara had brutally tortured. Because of her sadistic crimes-starving them, exiling them, and sending two of them on a suicide mission-my affinity with them was at negative five hundred. The apparition delivered my terrifying death sentence. "In three days, at the Marking Ceremony, you will be killed by your six mates." No matter what I did-freeing Ryker, sharing my food, or lifting their brother's exile-they viewed every act of kindness as a sick, twisted trap. They were just waiting for the punchline to my cruel joke, ready to expose me and end my life. I was just a librarian who organized book clubs and paid my taxes. Why did the Goddess throw me into this doomed vessel to pay for a psychopath's blood debts? How was I supposed to survive when the men destined to love me were actively plotting to rip my throat out? Cornered by their righteous fury, I realized playing defense wouldn't work. I grabbed a dagger, sliced my own palm over the ceremonial stone, and swore a blood oath to bring their missing brothers home-or initiate a soul-shattering Rejection Ceremony myself.
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Chapter 5

Elara Valerius POV:

Zane didn't wait for an answer. He snatched the larger piece of venison from the butcher's block, his movements sharp and angry, and stalked out of the kitchen without another word. The heavy door swung shut behind him, leaving me alone with my small, bloody portion of meat and a heart full of uncertainty. Had I made things better, or infinitely worse?

Zane carried the meat like it was a bomb, his knuckles white where he gripped the cold flesh. His mind was a battlefield. Every rational thought screamed that this was a trick, a new, insidious form of torment. But the scent of it, rich and savory, was making his stomach ache with a hunger he hadn't realized was so profound. His wolf whined, torn between suspicion and instinct.

He found Ryker in his room. His brother was sitting on the edge of his cot, methodically sharpening a wicked-looking silver dagger with a whetstone. The blade was already gleaming, prepared for the Marking Ceremony.

Ryker's head snapped up as Zane entered, his golden eyes immediately locking onto the meat. "Where did you get that?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low.

Zane quickly recounted what had happened in the kitchen—my begging for food, my devouring the stale bread, my opening the locked pantry, and my bizarre, bloody act of "proving" the meat was safe.

Ryker listened, his expression growing colder with every word. When Zane finished, a humorless smirk twisted his lips. "A pity party. She's getting better at this."

"I don't know, Ryker," Zane said, his voice laced with confusion. "I checked it. There's no wolfsbane, no silver dust. The way she ate it… it didn't feel like an act."

"Then the poison isn't in the meat," Ryker shot back, setting the dagger aside. "Don't you see, Zane? This is her weapon. She wants to divide us. Make us soft. Make us fight over scraps so we forget who the real enemy is." His logic was twisted by years of abuse, but it was the only logic that had kept them alive.

Ryker's gaze was hard as flint. "Take it to Kade."

Zane froze. "To Kade? But he's been exiled. He's not allowed—"

"She exiled him," Ryker corrected, his voice like ice. "He's still out there, circling the territory's edge, starving. If this meat is a test of our resolve, let's give it to the one who needs it most." It was a cruel calculus, born of desperation. A test and a twisted act of care all in one. If the meat was tainted, Kade would be the one to suffer. If it was safe, Kade would get a meal that might save his life.

Zane's shoulders slumped. The weight of their reality—that they had to use their own brother as a guinea pig—was a bitter pill to swallow. He nodded grimly and left.

He slipped out the back of the Packhouse, the meat wrapped in a piece of cloth. At the edge of the dark woods, a shadow detached itself from the trees. It was Kade. He was thinner than Zane remembered, his movements furtive and wary, like a true lone wolf.

Zane tossed the bundle to him. Kade caught it, his eyes wide, and immediately brought it to his nose, sniffing it suspiciously.

"It's from her," Zane said, his voice low. "We don't know if it's safe. Just… eat a small piece first."

Kade's eyes, a warm hazel that contrasted with Zane's cool grey, were red-rimmed as he stared at the fresh meat. He tore off a small morsel and hesitated for only a second before shoving it into his mouth.

Zane waited, his heart in his throat. One minute passed. Then two. Kade showed no signs of distress. With a choked sob, Kade fell upon the venison, tearing at it with a ferocity that spoke of weeks of gnawing hunger.

Watching his younger brother eat like a feral animal, Zane's own resolve hardened. Any flicker of doubt he'd had about Elara was extinguished, replaced by a fresh wave of cold, hard hatred. This, all of this, was her fault.

He returned to Ryker's room. "It was safe," he reported.

Ryker's expression didn't soften. It grew even more grim. "Then her plan is more subtle than I thought," he concluded. "She's trying to win hearts and minds, starting with our weakest link."

They took the remaining meat and distributed it among the warriors most loyal to their cause. Ryker and Zane themselves refused to touch a single bite.

Meanwhile, I was curled up on my luxurious bed, my stomach cramping violently. My modern, human digestive system was not prepared for raw, uncooked meat. I was paying the price for my desperate act, alone and miserable in my opulent prison.

A faint light pulsed in my vision. The panel.

Zane Blackwood: Affinity: -380 (Deep-Seated Distrust)

No change. My sacrifice had meant nothing to him. But below his name, a new profile had appeared.

Kade Blackwood: Affinity: -200 (Resentful, but Sated).

+10 Indirect Goodwill acquired.

I stared at the words, confused. I didn't even know who Kade was. But somewhere, my actions had reached someone else, a tiny crack of light in the suffocating darkness. It was a fragile, flickering hope, but it was hope nonetheless.

In his room, Ryker picked up the silver dagger again, its edge keen and deadly. He looked at Zane, his golden eyes burning with renewed purpose.

"Don't let this little gift fool you," he growled. "Remember how Corbin and Silas disappeared."

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