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The Feral Alpha's Secret Wolfless Mate Novel Cover

The Feral Alpha's Secret Wolfless Mate

In my past life, I used a black-market aphrodisiac mixed with my white peach and jasmine scent to seduce the volatile Second Alpha Son. But the drug pushed his pureblood Inner Wolf into a violent frenzy, turning me into his broken, captive Breeder. I thought my devotion would eventually earn his love, but I was completely wrong. The other maids mocked my Wolfless status, and when the East Wing's deadly politics targeted me, Jaren watched with cold, golden eyes. "A Wolfless freak could never be a real Omega," they sneered, leaving me to die an agonizing death on a cold stone floor. Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why my desperate love only bought me a terrifying execution. Opening my eyes again, I was back on the very night I made the fatal mistake, pinned under his scorching weight. This time, I bit his shoulder, slipped out of his bed, and scrubbed my skin raw with harsh lye soap and mud to hide my scent. When the Pack House Manager lined us up the next morning hunting for the girl who triggered the Alpha's feral Heat, another maid eagerly stepped forward. "It was me, sir. I served Lord Jaren last night." Watching her being dragged away to become his new Breeder, I calmly lowered my head and gripped my broom. Let her take the deadly target on her back. This time, I just want to buy my freedom and get as far away from him as possible.
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Chapter 6

Eliana POV

The heavy iron shears lay on the damp stone floor, a cold reminder of how close I had just come to losing my face.

Ivonne was trembling on her cot, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "El... she's going to kill us. Jessenia is going to tell Lord Jaren—"

"She won't say a word," I interrupted, my voice eerily calm despite the ice freezing my veins. Jessenia was a coward, terrified of the Alpha's wrath. But my victory was hollow. Jessenia wasn't my real problem. Jaren was.

His Inner Wolf had caught the faint trace of white peach and jasmine beneath my disguise this morning. It was only a matter of time before his predatory instincts pieced the puzzle together. I couldn't stay in the servant quarters, and I certainly couldn't stay in the East Wing. I needed a fortress. A place where even a feral, arrogant Alpha wouldn't dare unleash his Command.

There was only one place in the entire Griffin Pack that fit the description.

I grabbed my harsh lye soap and a handful of wet ash, scrubbing my neck until the skin was raw and burning. I had to bury the scent of my White Wolf bloodline completely.

Minutes later, I hurried into the bustling Pack House Courtyard. My timing was desperate, but perfect. Eileen, the Dowager Luna's Head of Staff, was standing near the fountain. The faint, steady scent of chamomile drifted from her, a stark contrast to the aggressive auras of the Warriors. She was looking for a temporary maid.

I didn't hide in the back like I usually did. I stepped forward, keeping my eyes glued to the cobblestones. I slumped my shoulders, projecting the absolute, non-threatening submission of a Wolfless.

"Excuse me, ma'am," I murmured, my voice soft and deferential. "I am a fast worker, and I know how to keep my head down and my mouth shut."

Eileen paused. I could feel her Beta senses sweeping over me. She inhaled, searching for any deceitful Omega or Alpha traits. All she found was the pungent, eye-watering stench of cheap lye soap and the pathetic aura of a Wolfless girl.

"You'll do," Eileen said briskly, her tone practical. "Three days trial in the Dowager's parlor. Do not speak unless spoken to."

Relief washed over me, so intense my knees nearly buckled. I had made it into the eye of the storm.

By mid-afternoon, I was dressed in a crisp, clean uniform, carrying a silver tray of tea into the Dowager's Parlor. The room was suffocatingly grand. The air was thick with the scent of aged agarwood—Josephine Griffin's signature aura. Even sitting quietly in her armchair, the Dowager Luna radiated an ancient, crushing authority.

I had just set the teacups down when the heavy mahogany doors slammed open.

The intoxicating, violent scent of dark rum and cedar instantly devoured the agarwood. My heart stopped. Jaren strode into the room, his jaw clenched, his golden eyes flashing with a rebellious fire.

Panic seized my throat. I immediately shrank back, pressing myself into the darkest corner of the parlor, praying the shadows and my lye soap would hide me.

"You summoned me, Grandmother," Jaren said, his voice a low, disrespectful drawl as he threw himself onto a velvet sofa.

Josephine’s eyes narrowed, her Inner Wolf bristling at his insolence. "I hear you have elevated a filthy, low-born Omega to your bed. A Breeder named Jessenia."

I held my breath, pressing my spine against the cold wall.

Jaren scoffed, a cruel, dismissive sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "She's a plaything, Grandmother. A warm body to take the edge off the Heat. Nothing more."

The absolute callousness in his voice made my blood run cold. Jessenia thought she had won a prize, but to him, she was less than dirt.

"The Griffin bloodline is not something to be toyed with," Josephine snapped, her Luna aura flaring. "It is time you took a proper Fated Mate, or at least a high-ranking Luna. Princess Esmeralda Wheeler of the Northern Tundra Pack is visiting. You will meet her tonight."

A guttural growl vibrated in Jaren’s chest. His Alpha beast violently rejected the command. "I don't care about your Pack politics, and I certainly don't care about some boring, spoiled pureblood Princess."

He stood up abruptly, his massive frame towering in the room. "I will take whoever I want, whenever I want. And no one—not even you—will dictate my choices."

Without waiting for a dismissal, Jaren turned and stormed out of the parlor, the doors shuddering on their hinges.

I remained frozen in the corner, my hands trembling uncontrollably. Jaren had just defied the highest authority in the Pack without a second thought. He was a monster entirely unbound by rules. If he ever discovered I was the woman he was truly hunting, there would be nowhere left in this world to hide.

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