Page 82 of Alpha's Exiled Mate
“When they’re together, it’s like two stars meant to orbit each other, finally finding their place,” I said quietly, the words spilling from my heart, raw and true.
Grandmother’s eyes sparkled with approval, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder, a gentle weight that felt like a blessing. “Anna, you see the world with a wisdom far beyond your years,” she said, her voice warm with pride. “Your heart is open, your mind sharp—a rare gift for one so young.”
“How did they know?” I asked, curiosity bubbling up, my voice earnest, hungry for understanding. “How did they know the other was their fated mate?”
Her expression softened, a distant memory flickering in her storm-gray eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “Sometimes, the soul recognizes its match the moment they meet,” she said, her voice a quiet melody. “For your father and mother, despite the chaos of lies and deception that surrounded them, their wolves knew instantly, calling to each other across the divide, a bond that no force could sever. Even when their minds doubted, their hearts never wavered.”
Below, I saw my father swept my mother into his arms, spinning her under the moonlight, her laughter rising like silver bells, bright and free, a sound that seemed to light the night. Watching them, a deep yearning stirred within me, a longing for a love like theirs—pure, unshakable, a connection that made the world feel whole, that set my soul ablaze. My wolf rumbled softly, her presence a quiet promise, as if she too dreamed of the day she’d find her match.
“You’ll find your fated mate, Anna,” Grandmother said, her voice gentle but certain, as if she’d read the quiet wish in myheart. “When the time is right, when your path aligns with theirs.”
“But what if I don’t?” I asked, a flicker of worry creeping into my voice, my fingers twisting together. “What if my fated mate isn’t a prince or a noble? What if he is just… ordinary?”
Grandmother’s laughter was warm, laced with the wisdom of a life rich with lessons. “True love doesn’t care about titles or status, my dear,” she said, her eyes crinkling with mirth. “Your mother was once a maid, bound by chains, her wolf has been sealed away, locked deep within her, yet look at her now—a queen, beloved by her people, cherished by a king, a woman who reshaped fate itself.”
I smiled, my heart swelling with pride, the familiar contours of my mother’s story a comfort, a tale I’d begged to hear countless times. From a wolf unable to shift, enslaved and broken, to a queen uniting two kingdoms, she’d risen through courage, love, and an unyielding spirit, rewriting her destiny and my father’s, proving that even the darkest paths could lead to light.
“And,” Grandmother added, her tone thoughtful, her gaze distant as if recalling her own journey, “the most important thing isn’t who you find, but how you nurture that bond. A fated mate isn’t the end of the journey—it’s the beginning, a promise to grow together, to face every storm as one.”
I nodded, the words sinking in, though their full weight eluded me, my mind still tangled in dreams of love. My gaze drifted back to my parents, now leaning against an ancient oak, their foreheads touching, the world forgotten in their shared quiet. I tucked the feeling away—that call of a soul to another,that spark of recognition—vowing to hold it close until I found my own, a beacon to guide me through the years ahead.
My coming-of-age ceremony was held on my eighteenth birthday, marking the day I officially debuted as the heir to the throne. The palace was filled with nobles and royalty from various countries, including many young princes and dukes. They were all eager to share a dance with me, perhaps hoping to win the favor of the future queen of the united kingdoms.
My little sister was thrilled, experiencing so many new faces for the first time. In contrast, I felt a bit underwhelmed and lacked enthusiasm.
“You look breathtaking, Anna,” my mother said, her voice warm as she stepped behind me in my chambers, her hands smoothing the folds of my silver-white gown, its intricate embroidery of moonstones and wolf motifs catching the chandelier’s glow, a symbol of our united realms. Her touch was steady, a reminder of her strength, her love a quiet anchor.
“Thank you, Mother,” I said, managing a smile, though my nerves fluttered like trapped birds, my reflection in the mirror a stranger—poised, regal, but restless beneath the surface.
My father entered, his presence commanding, his royal tunic a deep blue that echoed his wolf’s silver-gray fur, but his face softened as he saw me, his amber eyes—my eyes—widening with a mix of awe and pride, a sheen of emotion betraying his usual composure. “My little girl is all grown up,” he said, his voice thick, a tremor of nostalgia threading through it.
“Father!” I protested, my cheeks warming, a flush of embarrassment mingling with affection. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“To me, you’ll always be the Anna who climbed onto my shoulders to see the stars,” he said, his smile tender, a memory of moonlit nights and childish wonder. He turned to my mother, his gaze softening further. “Lilia, our daughter outshines even you.”
Mother laughed, a bright, musical sound, swatting his arm playfully. “Are you saying I’m fading, Your Majesty?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mock indignation.
Father caught her waist, pulling her close with a grin, his voice low and warm. “You know you’re forever the most beautiful in my eyes,” he said, his words a vow renewed in a glance.
They fell into their familiar dance of affection, oblivious to the world, their love a private universe where no one else existed. I rolled my eyes for show, a playful gesture, but my heart warmed at their unchanging bond, a love that had endured eighteen years of trials and triumphs, still burning bright, a beacon of what I hoped to find.
But my father’s tone shifted, a serious note cutting through the warmth, his gaze steady on mine. “Anna, about tonight’s ball, there’s something we need to discuss.”
My stomach knotted, a sinking dread confirming my suspicion. “Is it about Prince Raymond?” I asked, my voice quiet, already bracing for their answer.
Mother nodded, her expression gentle but deliberate, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders. “His parents, and we all think it would be good for you two to spend time together, to get to know each other better,” she said, her voice soft but carrying the weight of expectation.
I understood their reasoning, the logic cold and clear. Raymond, prince of the Northern Isles, was the ideal match—a golden-haired heir to a powerful coastal nation, his charm legendary, his name whispered with sighs by maidens whotossed flowers and handkerchiefs as his carriage rolled through their towns.
He was two years older than me. He’d been my childhood companion, sharing carefree summers of laughter and mischief until duty summoned him home to prepare for his crown. He’d always been kind, enduring my pranks and tantrums with a patient smile, never once losing his temper, even when Mother gently scolded me to be kinder to him.
On paper, he was perfect—a union with him would secure vital trade routes, strengthen our navy, and expand our kingdom’s influence across the seas. As crown princess, I knew the stakes, the duty that came with my title. Raymond was the logical choice, the one my parents—and our people—hoped I’d embrace.
But my heart felt nothing beyond a sibling’s affection, a warmth devoid of the spark I’d seen in my parents’ eyes, the pull that bound their souls. I craved a love that set my blood alight, a fated mate whose presence would make the world sing, not a marriage of convenience, however kind the partner.
Still, I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper, the weight of duty pressing down. “Alright, Mother,” I said, my agreement a surrender to expectation, not desire.
The ball began as the sun dipped below the horizon, the grand hall ablaze with candlelight, its golden glow dancing across gilded walls and crystal chandeliers. Harps and violins wove a delicate melody, the air thick with the scent of roses and anticipation. Princes from neighboring realms approached one by one, their titles announced with fanfare, each eager to claim a moment of my time, their introductions a blur of noble lineages and practiced smiles. I nodded politely, my responses automatic, my smile a mask as their words washed over me, my mind drifting, the weight of their ambitions a heavy cloak I longed to shed.
