Page 1 of Alpha's Exiled Mate

Chapter 1

Lilia

I jolted awake, my heart pounding fiercely—

In the dream, I was dragged into darkness by countless hands. They pulled at me, forcing me toward a gaping, bloodthirsty maw. Amidst my screams and sobs, that mouth bit down on my neck without hesitation.

Torn apart, broken, the terror of death made it nearly impossible to breathe—

It was that nightmare again.

This dream had been haunting me more and more frequently lately, as if it were some kinds of ominous omen.

Sweat coated my forehead, and I gasped for air, still shaken by the vivid scenes from the dream. It wasn’t until my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room that I slowly began to calm down.

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on the floor. I carefully stretched my aching body, avoiding the splinters on the bedframe. This rickety little bed had been my only refuge in the Thornfield household for the past five years.

Outside the window, morning mist shrouded the garden, and in the distance, the faint outline of the kingdom’s capital could be seen atop the hills. Every morning, I would spend a few seconds gazing at that hazy city—where free people lived. It was a world I could never reach.

“Another day, Lilia,” I whispered to myself, the words a quiet pep talk. Inside me, my wolf stirred, circling restlessly before pressing against my chest, a faint but comforting presence.

I quickly combed my golden hair, twisting it into a simple bun. My hair was my one source of pride, even if Miss Viossi mocked it as “cheap brass.” Martha, the cook, once told me in hushed tones that golden hair was rare among werewolves, a trait often tied to ancient noble bloodlines. Her words always sparked a flicker of hope in me—maybe I wasn’t just an orphan. Maybe my parents had been someone important. But reality always doused that spark. Noble or not, I was nothing now but a slave, a werewolf who couldn’t shift, bound to a life of servitude with no choices of my own.

I’d tried countless times to connect with my wolf, to break through the invisible barrier that kept her trapped inside me, but she remained out of reach, a shadow I could feel but never fully grasp.

Hurrying, I slipped into my coarse work dress, the rough fabric scratching against my skin. I couldn’t afford to be late—not here, where I was the lowest of the low. Even the regular servants could order me around, and I had no choice but to obey. A werewolf slave who couldn’t shift was at the bottom of the food chain, a target for everyone’s frustrations.

The attic’s wooden stairs creaked under my weight as I descended, each groan of the old wood reminding me how fragile everything in this manor was—including my existence. I moved carefully, hoping to avoid Bella and Theresa, the two young maids who delighted in tormenting me. But my luck randry. They were waiting at the bottom of the stairs, their smirks sharp as knives.

“Well, well, look who finally dragged herself outta her cave,” Bella sneered, her voice oozing with fake shock. “The little mutt’s finally up.”

Theresa giggled, sticking out her foot to trip me. I stumbled but caught myself just in time. “Watch it, mutt,” she taunted. “You know what the head maid says—break anything, and you’re skipping dinner.”

I kept my head down, trying to slip past, but Bella grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. “Not so fast, Lilia. You didn’t clean the stables yesterday, so guess what? That’s on your list today, too.”

“But the head maid said I’m assigned to the east wing today,” I murmured, my voice barely audible.

“Are you talking back to me?” Bella’s tone turned icy. “Know your place, filth. I say you’re cleaning the stables, so you’ll clean the stables. It’s Miss Viossi’s order. Got it?”

“Yes, Bella,” I whispered, a powerless anger simmering in my chest. My wolf stirred faintly, restless but trapped, unable to break through the barrier to protect me.

“Good,” Theresa sneered, her smug nod dripping with condescension. “And after you’re done with the east wing and the stables, you’ll scrub Miss Viossi’s bedroom windows until they gleam. She was livid about the sloppy mess you left yesterday.”

They let go of me with cruel, mocking laughter that echoed in my ears, then sauntered off as if they owned the world. I choked down the bitter lump of humiliation and the searing heat of rage burning in my chest, forcing my trembling legs to carry me toward the kitchen, each step heavier than the last.

I knew there was no way I could finish all the tasks piled on me today. But at Thornfield Manor, no one cared if a shiftless slave was treated fairly.

The kitchen was warm and fragrant when I stepped inside. Martha, the cook, was bustling at the stove, her plump figure moving with practiced ease as she baked breakfast bread. Her wrinkled face was set in concentration, but when she saw me, her eyes softened, the lines around them crinkling into a gentle smile—a rare sight in this cold household to me.

“Good morning, Lilia,” Martha murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she cast a quick, cautious glance around the room, her eyes flickering over the empty corners and the faint morning light filtering through the curtains, ensuring no one else was near to overhear. “Another nightmare?” Her words were tinged with gentle concern.

I nodded, a small warmth blooming in my chest. Martha was the only one who remembered my troubled sleep, the only one who cared. From the day I arrived at Thornfield Manor, she’d shown me kindness, a flicker of light in an otherwise dark existence.

“Yes,” I admitted quietly, stepping closer to the comforting heat of her stove. “Always the same—darkness and horrible screams.”

Martha sighed, wiping flour from her hands before gently touching my cheek. The simple gesture calmed the storm inside me, if only for a moment.

“My little wolf,” she whispered, her voice so low only I could hear. “You’re stronger than all of them. Never forget that.”