Page 34 of Alpha's Runaway Mate

I tensed, avoiding Kaine’s confused gaze on me. Although I was seething with anger from Salome violating me, I was curious to know many things. How could Leo possibly be part witch? What about my origin did my father not mention?

Salome’s sharp gaze on me softened as she moved to sit on the sofa. She continued, her voice quieter now. “Twenty-four years ago, a Beta from the pack arrived at my doorstep with a child in his arms, desperation etched into his face. He had just returned from war, carrying the weight of unbearable loss—his friends,his wife, even his newborn child—all gone. It was as if he had lost the will to live and was clinging to this child as his only reason to go on.”

I inched closer, paying keen attention to everything she was saying. Kaine remained fixated on the spot, arms folded against his chest, a hint of disbelief still strewn across his face.

“He begged me—no, he threatened me. He demanded that I suppress the witch side of the child so she could grow up as a werewolf. I warned him about the risks, told him her powers might draw unwanted attention to the pack. But he wouldn’t hear it. He was adamant. So, I did what he asked—suppressed her witch side and bound it to her fate as a werewolf,” she paused, lifting her gaze to meet Kaine’s, “her fated mate.”

My throat tightened, my heart seizing in my chest. “What are you saying?” I whispered, already knowing the answer but unable to fully accept it—to accept that everything I knew about myself growing up had been a lie.

Salome looked directly at me. “That child was you, Lyra.”

I froze. The room tilted and I gripped the chair’s arm, trying to keep my balance as her words crashed over me. The man I’d called my “father”, wasn’t. And my mother…had she even died from an illness? Or was that another lie? Why would my real parents abandon me? Everything Salome said right now implied that I was a hybrid.No, no.

I shook my head vehemently, refusing to believe what her revelation meant. “How do I know you’re not lying? You don’t like me—why should I believe a word you say?”

She scoffed. “You think I’m lying? Would you like me to tell Kaine about the other things I saw—the real reason why the Blackwood pack is after you? Would that prove my honesty?

I shrank back.

Seeing this, she said, “That’s what I thought.”

Salome rose from the couch and made her way to the front door. Just as she reached it, she paused and turned back, her eyes sharp. “You’d better start talking, Lyra. Because from what I’ve seen, the Blackwoods won’t stop until they get what they want. And what they want is you.”

With that she walked out.

I collapsed into the couch, trembling. I couldn’t look at Kaine, but I could feel his eyes on me. He was definitely confused.

“What’s going on, Lyra? I cannot protect you and Leo if I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be protecting you from.” He moved to sit beside me, taking my hands in his. “Talk to me, Lyra. What did they do to you?”

Tears blurred my vision, slipping silently down my cheeks. Kaine pulled me into his arms, and I sobbed quietly. “It was horrible,” I whimpered. “I wanted to die, Kaine. I just… I couldn’t take it anymore.”

His grip on me tightened and he stroked my hair softly, muttering soothing words to me as he urged me to go on.

And so, I began— recounting every agonizing, gut-wrenching detail of the worst eight months of my life…

Chapter Fifteen — Lyra’s POV

Six years ago

My eyes slowly fluttered open, heavy with the lingering effects of whatever drug they’d hit me with. A dull ache pulsed in my skull as I groaned, pushing myself to stand. The dart was still lodged in my neck, a reminder of how I got here.

The memories of the last hours were a jumbled mess in my head, otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting there, waiting for my vision to adjust to the painfully bright room. I would have leaped out of that bed, searching for a way out of what I never could have imagined would become eight months of living hell.

When it finally hit me that I wasn’t in my room, the memory of being chased by a group of shifters resurfaced. I thought of the unfamiliar woman‘s voice saying,“She’s the one”,before I blacked out. My eyes snapped open, and I sprang out of the bed.

The room around me was a dark, suffocating shade of red, with no windows—only walls that seemed to press in on me. A single dim bulb flickered overhead, casting erratic shadows over the sparse furniture in the room. An empty table stood next to the bed, and a lone accent chair sat near the door. Off to the side, a door led to a bathroom with a toilet, adding to the claustrophobic feel of the space.

Instinctively, I rushed to the door, but it was locked. My eyes darted around every inch of the room: under the bed, along the walls as I searched for a vent or anything that could aid my escape. But there was nothing. This was like a prison.My prison.

I heard the jingle of keys outside and stepped back, pressing myself against the wall. My eyes locked on the door as the handle turned, and it swung open to reveal a man. He paused in the doorway, a satisfied smile on his face as he took me in. Tall and imposing, his sharp features assessed me. His midnight black hair framed his face, and the sinister smirk he wore told me all I needed to know—he wasn’t here to help me.

“Lyra Winters, is it?” he asked, stepping into the room.

I didn’t answer. I just watched him warily as he settled into the lone accent chair.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been looking forward to this moment,” he said, his smile unfaltering yet unnerving. It left me confused and uneasy.

“What do you want with me?” I finally managed to ask. “Why did you bring me here? Where am I even?”

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