The Feral Alpha's Secret Wolfless Mate

Eliana POV

The damp, suffocating air of the servant quarters was a welcome relief after the chaotic mess hall. I sat on my lumpy cot in the dim light of the evening, counting the few crumpled bills I had managed to stash away. It wasn't enough to buy my freedom yet, but it was a start.

The heavy wooden door creaked open, and Berniece, the Beta in charge of personnel, stepped inside. The murky, unwashed scent of her Beta aura filled the small room. She held out a plump, expectant hand, her eyes gleaming with greed.

"Time to pay up, Eliana," she sneered. "If you want to keep your cushy spot in the East Wing, near Lord Jaren, it’s going to cost you your next month's wages."

In my past life, I had eagerly handed over every last coin, desperate to stay close to the Alpha I foolishly thought I could win over. Now, the mere thought of Jaren made my blood run cold.

"I don't have it," I said, keeping my eyes lowered to avoid challenging her Beta authority. "And I don't want the position anymore. Please, Berniece. Transfer me. I'll work in the laundry room, the stables—anywhere. Just get me out of the East Wing."

Berniece’s Inner Wolf bristled slightly at my refusal, but a cruel smirk quickly replaced her frown. "Giving up so easily? Fine. There are plenty of fools willing to pay for that spot anyway. But pack transfers take time. You’ll be reassigned in two days."

*Two days.* The words hit me like a physical blow. I still had to survive two more nights in the beast's lair.

Panic clawed at my throat as night fell. Since Jessenia had been elevated to Breeder and moved into the inner chambers, I was assigned to the outer suite for the night shift. I couldn't let Jaren see me, and more importantly, I couldn't let him smell me.

I bound my chest and waist tightly with rough linen strips, flattening my curves until it hurt to breathe. I swapped my uniform for the baggiest, most threadbare laborer's tunic I could find. Finally, I took a handful of wood ash and cheap, lye-heavy soap, scrubbing it fiercely over my neck and collarbone. The harsh mixture burned my skin, but it effectively masked my natural white peach and jasmine scent, as well as the bruised bite mark Jaren had left on me.

Trembling, I made my way to the East Wing. Outside the heavy oak doors of the Alpha Suite, I bumped into Elsie, the Omega maid I was relieving. She looked pale, her eyes wide with terror.

"Keep your head down, El," she whispered frantically. "Lord Jaren is in a foul mood. Whatever Jessenia is doing in there, it’s not soothing his Inner Wolf."

I swallowed hard and slipped inside.

The suite was suffocatingly dark, thick with the aggressive, intoxicating scent of dark rum and cedar. My knees buckled slightly under the sheer weight of his Alpha aura. I shrank into the deepest shadow near the doorway, praying to the Moon Goddess that I would remain invisible.

Jaren was slumped on the massive leather sofa across the room. He didn't even glance in my direction. Suddenly, a low, guttural growl vibrated from his chest, a sound so primal it made my Wolfless bones rattle.

"You," his voice boomed, laced with the undeniable, crushing power of an Alpha's Command. "Get in here and prepare the bath. Now."

My body betrayed me instantly. As a Wolfless, I had zero defense against an Alpha's direct order. My legs moved on their own, dragging me out of the shadows and toward the private hot spring in the inner chamber.

The heavy wooden doors to the bathhouse were already open. Thick, scalding steam rolled out, hitting my face like a physical wall. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs. The intense heat and moisture were already making my skin slick with sweat.

I grabbed a stack of fresh towels, my hands shaking violently as I approached the edge of the bubbling pool. The steam clung to my clothes, dampening the wood ash and lye soap on my neck. If the water washed away my disguise, the beast waiting in the other room would instantly recognize the scent he had tasted last night.