Fated Alpha Baby (Alpha Wolf Valley #3)

Prologue - Hannah

Eight Years Ago

It always felt like I was hiding, sticking to the shadows in my desperate attempts to remain unseen. Unnoticed. Like I didn’t exist.

Shadows were my friends because they couldn’t speak. Their silence matched my own, complementing the loud storms in my head. The voices blaring. The ugly words thrown my way.

I have never known peace.

Not even in the isolated cabin near the edge of the ridge.

My breath comes in hot pants, my ears drumming with the sharp alertness that I might have mistaken for my wolf. If I had one.

But omegas like me—shiftless and useless—shouldn’t mistake heightened senses for a wolf that doesn’t exist. It’s been nearly a year since my eighteenth birthday, and I still haven’t received my wolf.

It’s no wonder I’m the target of the pack’s disdain and foulness, and I always find myself running away from their ruthless, belittling comments that could turn into physical attacks if I’m not careful.

My heart hammers in my chest as I make a run for it now, the pack meeting having turned into a violent slew of daggers directed at me as soon as it was adjourned. We should have been celebrating the full moon around the bonfire, but just like peace, I have never known celebration.

The closest thing to warmth I’ve ever felt is the tingling in my fingertips every time I’m the target of mistreatment. Adrenaline has always been my best friend, coming to pick me up and spurring me into flight. Fight or flight? I only know the latter.

And I would be able to outrun the others if I had a wolf like them.

I know I can’t escape when the first shift happens behind me, a thunderous gallop of wolf paws vibrating against the earth and drumming in my ears.

I make a beeline for the eastern ridge, sticking to the tree line where the wolves will have to navigate and dodge the foliage. But even sticking to the shadows is pointless, because they’re going to find me anyway.

Another shift happens behind me, but I don’t bother to glance over my shoulder, too focused on running. Escaping. Putting as much distance as possible between the bullies and me and hoping I can get to my cabin.

A locked door isn’t much to stop them from charging in, but I can try.

The cabin comes into view, bringing with it a wave of relief through the torrent of adrenaline rushing through my veins. I run as fast as I can, leaping over ancient granite and landing on the strip of cobblestone that forms a pathway to my home.

Keeping my head down as I make the final stretch, I’m about to reach the porch stairs when I crash into something solid but warm. The scent of mint enters my airways then. Panting and disoriented, I look up to find a pair of dark, chocolate-brown eyes piercing into my soul.

My heart skips a beat, the adrenaline spiking for a fickle second before it washes away. All that’s left is the tingling sensation in my fingertips, and the relentless need to keep my eyes fixed on the pair that hasn’t left my face.

“Hannah…? What’s going on?” Dark brows furrow as the question comes from a plump set of cool-toned pink lips—a stark contrast to his warm, olive flesh.

I open my mouth to respond, but I can barely form a coherent thought when six feet and five inches of delicious muscle and masculinity tower over me.

Being in his presence alone is enough to fight my fears, and when the wolves emerge from the tree line in their rampage of pursuit, I no longer feel afraid.

The alpha’s grandson, the next in line for the mantle, looks up when the wolves come to a halt at the bottom of the cobblestone path.

Even though Conan Becker hasn’t been officially sworn in as the alpha, his presence alone commands the attention of the pack.

Like a true leader, he steps forward, eyes narrowed on the group that was chasing me as they shift into human form and hang their heads.

“What’s going on?” Conan asks, voice firm and commanding.

The first from the group who has enough courage to face the alpha’s grandson is Nico. “We were tracking the omega, Conan. She wasn’t at her station like she was supposed to be.”

Conan folds his arms without turning back to me, cocking his head to the side. “And where exactly was that supposed to be?”

Another from the group—Kayla—looks up. “She was supposed to be serving drinks.” Kayla turns narrowed eyes on me. “But she wasn’t.”

Conan chuckles, the sound eerie beneath the silver glow of our surroundings as he takes a step forward. “And who exactly put you lot in charge of her duties?”

Quentin and Kayla exchange glances, then someone else steps out from behind.

“The omega stole a gem from Dorothy’s cabinet,” Callum throws the accusation out loud, and my heart plummets as I frown.

I stole a gem out of Dorothy’s cabinet?

That’s impossible.

She would have come to me first.

“The healer stopped us as we left the hall,” Callum continues. “Told us a gem was missing, and she needed it for the full moon ritual tonight. And that’s when we went looking for the omega, only to find that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.”

“Like any petty thief, she ran away,” Kalya adds, and the trio erupts in vicious laughter.

“You expect me to believe this?” Conan rumbles, stepping forward and unfolding his arms. He leans forward so he’s eye-level with Kayla, and the laughter dies as quickly as it began.

“Let me guess…” Conan drawls calmly. “The gem Dorothy is missing is an emerald.”

Kayla gasps. “How do you know, Conan?” She feigns shock, a hand flying to her throat. “Did you find it on her?”

“No.” Conan straightens up. “But I can smell it on you. Empty out your pockets.”

“Conan—”

“Now,” is all he breathes, and that’s when Kayla shoves trembling hands into her denim pockets.

A bright green crystal sparkles on her palm as she stretches out her arm toward Conan, hanging her head shamefully. Conan picks it up, tosses it into the air above his head, then nimbly catches it, closing a fist around the precious stone.

“I thought you said Hannah stole the gem…”

“I—we—” Kayla stammers and glances at Quentin and Callum. “She must have put it in my pocket. She’s trying to frame me!”

Conan grabs the finger Kayla points at me. “Save it, Kayla.” He leans forward. “If my grandfather hears about this—”

“No, Conan! Please! I-I’m sorry!” she yelps, and Conan releases her finger.

He turns around smoothly, tossing the emerald toward me. I catch it, and he winks, then turns back to the trio.

“Go on, you three. I’ll pretend this never happened as long as you leave Hannah alone. But one more wrong move, and I’m taking this to Alpha Bernard. You’ll be banished from the pack.”

The three gulp as they nod their heads timidly, scampering off into the shadows before more threats are made.

As Conan turns back to me, my heart skips another beat as I stare at him and swoon.

Ah…my knight in shining armor, glowing beneath the moonlight’s silvery rays.

“You wanna return the gem to Dorothy, or should I do it?”

I snap out of my daze, reminding myself that I shouldn’t be basking in what just happened, forgetting my place in the pack. If this whole debacle proved anything, it’s that I can’t be left to my own devices without needing a savior. And I hate that it has to be Conan.

Even if I’m grateful that he saved me from humiliation.

Soon, he’ll be the alpha of Iron Breath and won’t have time for someone like me. Least of all to save me from my adversaries, or even be hanging around my cabin when he should be celebrating the full moon with the pack.

I fling the gem from my hand as if it’s an unwanted hot potato, and shiver. “You can take it back to her. I’m not in the mood to face your friends again.”

Conan, who had been inspecting the shimmering stone under the moonlight, flicks his eyes to me. “They’re not my friends, Hannah.”

I roll my eyes as I turn my back to him and head up the porch. It’s been a long night, and all I want is to slip into bed and let the exhaustion drag me into slumber.

“It doesn’t matter,” I shrug indifferently. “What were you doing here, anyway?”

Conan doesn’t respond immediately, and instead, I hear him climb up the porch steps and hover behind me as I unlock the door. An unsettling chill courses down my spine, the tingling in my fingers returning to make them tremble around the keys.

He isn’t making this easy.

“You should be at the celebration.”

“I should,” he concedes smoothly, watching me as I stick the key in the keyhole.

“Then why aren’t you?” I push the door in and turn to face him.

He’s leaning against the doorframe now, almost blocking me from entering. At least, not without our shoulders brushing. And I can’t risk that brisk touch.

Already, it’s taking a lot from me to look at him and pretend that I’m not madly in love with the future alpha of the Iron Breath Pack.

Yeah. That’s right.

I’m in love with Conan Becker. I have been in love with him from the moment he walked into Dorothy’s house with big brown eyes, a sheepish grin, and muddy boots, asking to play dominoes with the girl everyone else seemed to have forgotten.

At the age of seven, I had no idea that it was love I felt. But as the years dragged on, and we grew older, spending countless days in the pack seer’s house where I grew up, I soon realized that it was love that had been growing between us for more than a decade.

At least, that’s how it is from my side.

But with the dawn of a new decade comes the inevitable change when Conan steps into his role of alpha. These silly ideas that I’ve fostered for many years—that there would ever be a future for him and me—had to be buried when he turned eighteen last year and received his wolf.

Perhaps I’m failing, but at least I’m trying to bury those ideas. But Conan makes it nearly impossible to control my thoughts when he stands so close, the musk scent he wears beckoning to my senses, and I almost throw caution to the wind.

Almost.

“I don’t get why you’re here, Conan. Did you know what they were up to?”

“Maybe.”

I narrow my eyes at him and huff. “So, they are your friends.”