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Returning To Claim The Blind Alpha As My Fated Mate Novel Cover

Returning To Claim The Blind Alpha As My Fated Mate

Betrayed by her stepmother and stepsister, a young werewolf is framed, stripped of her unborn child, and executed while her family celebrates. Only the feared blind Alpha, Collier Mays, mourns at her grave, whispering that she was meant to be his. Awakening ten years in the past, she vows to reclaim her inheritance, tear down her stepfamily's lies, and make Collier her Alpha before they destroy her again.
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Chapter 2

Alessandra POV:

I scrambled out of bed and rushed to the full-length mirror.

The girl gazing at herself in the mirror was twenty-one years old. Her eyes were clear, her face still held a touch of youthful softness. There were no lines of grief, no shadows of betrayal.

My hand traced the curve of my cheek, then moved down to my flat stomach. The phantom pain of losing my child clenched in my gut, sharp and sudden. I swayed, gripping the edge of the dresser to keep from falling.

Breathe, Ally. Just breathe.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing the wave of agony down. The vulnerability in my eyes hardened, replaced by something cold and sharp.

Downstairs, the argument continued. Karyn's voice, that smooth, deceptively gentle tone she always used, was persuading my father to cover Britany's expenses.

And Warren, my father, was caving. Just like I remembered. Weak. Always so weak.

Flashes of my time as a disembodied soul flickered through my mind.

I'd seen my own funeral. A quick, sparsely attended affair. My father couldn't even look at my coffin.

I'd seen Karyn and Britany afterward, toasting with champagne, celebrating the removal of an obstacle.

But the clearest memory, the one that burned itself into my soul, was of Alpha Collier Mays.

On a full moon night, he came to my grave alone. This man, known to the pack as the "Cold-Faced Alpha," a warrior feared by all, sat before my headstone for the entire night.

His "blind" eyes, a startling ice-blue, were fixed on the stone, as if he could see right through it, right to me.

My soul had heard his voice, a low, raw whisper, repeating the same words over and over.

"Mine... You were supposed to be mine."

The grief rolling off him in waves was a tangible force, heavier and more profound than my own death.

The memory jolted me back to the present. My heart ached with a sharp pang, not for myself, but for him. For his pain.

In my past life, we'd barely spoken. I knew he was the pack's strongest warrior until an injury took his sight, making him even more withdrawn and cold.

I had always been a little afraid of him. I thought we were strangers.

But he was the one. The one who had loved me in silence. While I was chasing a phantom, a lie named Julian, Collier was the one whose heart broke when I died.

The Moon Goddess had given me a second chance. I would not waste it.

A plan, bold and absolute, began to form in my mind.

Revenge. Yes. I would have my revenge. But as a lone Omega, my power was limited.

I needed an ally. A powerful one. A mate who would stand by me, who would never betray me.

Collier Mays.

The name was an anchor in the swirling chaos of my thoughts.

In my last life, he mourned me. In this one, I would go to him.

This wasn't about seeking protection. This was about forging an alliance. I had knowledge of the future. He had strength.

I would make him my Alpha. My mate.

And I would be his Luna.

The argument downstairs finally died down. I heard footsteps on the stairs. Karyn's.

I quickly wiped the tears from my face, schooling my features into a neutral mask. I slipped back into bed, closed my eyes, and feigned sleep.

I knew she was here to "comfort" me, because Britany had stolen my money to pay off her credit card. To help Britany avoid being scolded, she had to maintain her usual loving and kind stepmother mask in front of me.

The door creaked open. Her footsteps were soft on the rug, stopping beside my bed.

I could smell her perfume, expensive and cloying, a scent I now associated with the stench of deceit.

My fists clenched under the covers, nails digging into my palms. The small sting of pain was a welcome reminder.

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