Page 69 of Alpha's Hated Mate

The scent of fresh lilacs fails to calm Saffron as her fingers worry at the pleats of her pale blue dress—the one we spent hours selecting yesterday because it matches her eyes perfectly. We sit side-by-side in one of Moonhelm’s elegant meeting rooms. Waiting for the arrival of the person that will fill the empty chair across the gleaming oak table feels like an impending doom.

Three days have passed since our return from Claymore. Three days since I reasserted my rightful place as the Alpha of the Vaultmore pack and officially named Saffron as my Luna.

Even now, it seems surreal. I’d spent my entire life preparing to lead, yet it wasn’t my father’s lessons that secured my victory against Ellis—it was embracing what made me different. I have Saffron to thank for that.

My trusted lieutenants handle the day-to-day back home. The council manages the rest. Completing our education suddenly matters more than I ever imagined. Not just for me, but for us—for the future we’ll build together. Just as when I first arrived at Moonhelm, I’ve delegated my immediate responsibilities to focus on what’s in front of me—supporting my Luna.

Saffron bounces a leg up and down on the floor. Her scent—roses in full bloom—momentarily drowns out everything else.

“Hey.” I place my hand over hers and give it a squeeze, stilling her nervous movement. “It’s going to be fine.”

Her blue eyes meet mine, wide with apprehension. The Alpha King himself is minutes away from walking through that door.

“What if he hates me?” Saffron says. “What if he only sees me as the child of the people who tried to take his throne? What if he thinks I’m going to try the same thing?”

We’ve been through all of this before. Many times. I don’t mind going through it again if it’ll help ease her nerves.

The heavy oak door swings open before I can respond. Dean Fowler enters first, his thin frame practically vibrating with nervous energy. But it’s the man following him who commands every molecule of air in the room.

The Alpha King.

We both stand immediately, bowing out of instinct and respect. I’ve seen photographs, of course, but they fail to capture the sheer presence of the man. He’s taller than I expected, with broad shoulders that seem to fill the doorway. His amber eyes—sharp and assessing—scan the room before landing on Saffron with laser-like focus.

A few gray strands disperse through his long, black hair, which is pulled back neatly, enhancing the sculpted angles of his face. The navy suit he wears is immaculate, royal crest embroidered on the breast pocket, and a thick gold ring bearing the royal insignia adorns his pinky finger.

Pure power radiates from him, that unmistakable aura that makes every wolf in the vicinity want to bare their throat and cower in submission. Even my Alpha instincts struggle against the urge.

Beside me, Saffron shifts her weight uneasily.

“Your Majesty,” Dean Fowler’s voice assumes the practiced diplomatic tone he reserves for important visitors, “may I present Aydan Vaultmore, Alpha of the Vaultmore Pack, and his Luna, Saffron Kamaria.”

The dean backs toward the door with another bow. “I’ll leave you to your privacy. Please ring if you require anything at all.”The door closes with a soft click that somehow reminds me of sounds like a prison cell locking.

The Alpha King walks to the empty chair and sits down. He says, “Please, sit.” So we sit.

His gaze fixes on Saffron with unsettling intensity. His nostrils flare slightly—he’s scenting her, confirming what the blood tests already told us. Something shifts in his expression, a flicker of what might be pain, before it’s quickly masked.

“The resemblance is . . . remarkable.” His voice is deep and measured. “You have Raphael’s nose and mouth and Natasha’s eyes . . . but your hair.”

She strokes a fiery red lock and lowers her eyes, almost like she’s embarrassed. “Yes, I’m a Scarlet.”

“Intriguing,” he replies, his tone revealing nothing.

A tense silence blankets the room. Her hand finds mine under the table, gripping it tightly. I feel her pulse quicken through her fingertips. Her scent sharpening with anxiety.

The King continues to stare, and I can’t tell if his expression holds wonder or disapproval. This is the moment we’ve been dreading and anticipating in equal measure. Does he share the same prejudice against Scarlets that my own pack is guilty of? Will her likeness to her parents be enough to bridge decades of prejudice against Scarlets? Or does she only remind him of the brother who betrayed him? Saffron is now in the line of succession. Perhaps he see her as a threat to his throne and family?

The King leans in closer, and I find myself instinctively moving slightly forward in response. My wolf rising protectively to shield my Luna from whatever judgment might come, despite knowing who sits before us. The Alpha King notices, a single eyebrow arching upward before the corner of his mouth twitches—not quite a smile, but acknowledgment.

Chapter Twenty-Eight—Saffron

Ifreeze in my chair, my heart pounding against my chest while the Alpha King’s golden gaze scrutinizes every inch of my face. The silence stretches between us like a live wire, ready to spark at the slightest touch. Aydan’s body tenses beside me, which is both comforting and terrifying.

The Alpha King clears his throat, finally breaking the fog of silence. “The Royal Mages have confirmed through DNA testing that you are indeed my niece.” His eyes never leave mine, watching for my reaction. “The daughter of my brother Raphael and Natasha of Hino.”

I swallow hard, uncertain how to respond. Is this an accusation or an acknowledgment?

“I’ve been told you had visions of what happened to Natasha after the . . . events that claimed Raphael’s life.” His tone softens slightly, revealing a hint of something I hadn’t expected—curiosity, perhaps even concern. “But tell me about your childhood.”

---