Page 13 of Alpha's Exiled Mate

Yet this Viossi... she seems somehow different.

In my memory, I’d heard many stories about her, all painting her as arrogant and overbearing. But today, spending time with her, she was reserved and quiet, like a fawn.

I shut my eyes, pushing these stray thoughts aside. No matter if she’s different from the Miss Thornfield in my memory, her only value is to help me break the curse.

Yes, it must be so—it can only be so.

I dressed quickly, my mind already mapping out the next steps. To protect her from Jackson’s schemes, I’d house her in the east wing, guarded by my most trusted men. I’d visit her once a month, on the full moon, when conception was most likely. Once she bore an heir, her role would be complete. She could return to her family or remain in the palace with wealth and status, depending on her conduct.

It was a practical plan, one that left no room for error—or emotion. She’s merely a tool, a vessel, the key to breaking the curse—nothing more.

My wolf growled low in its throat—a raw, accusing rumble that seemed to dig into the marrow of my shame.

"Pathetic", I snarled, my voice sharp as ice. "Letting a woman cloud your mind."

But I won’t.

Never will.

Chapter 4

Lilia

For the first time in my life, I slept so deeply, with no dreams, feeling a brief moment of peace.

But as consciousness crept back, I reached out, expecting to find the warmth of Prince Perock beside me. My fingers brushed only cold silk sheets, smooth and empty.

He wasn’t here.

My eyes snapped open, scanning the vast, opulent master bedroom. I was alone. The memory of last night—our intense, too deep connection-still pulsed through every fiber of my being, vivid and undeniable. His touch, urgent and unrelenting, searing into me, the way our bodies had collided with a hunger that bordered on desperation. My breath hitched as I felt the echo of that intensity ripple through every cell, a delicious ache throbbing deep within me. Yet the stark reality of this empty room felt like a betrayal, chilling my bones.

“Perock?” I called softly, my voice echoing in the cavernous space, fragile and lonely. No answer came.

I sat up slowly, my body tender from the night before, a faint ache lingering in my muscles. I slowly walked up to thebathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My gaze fell to the bite mark on my chest, a faint bruise that sent a shiver of wonder through me.

I was his mate.

My wolf, though bound and caged, had stirred last night, resonating with his in a way that felt sacred, unbreakable. That bond was real—it had to be. I could still feel him, a faint pull in my chest, telling me he was somewhere in the castle.

Perhaps he was simply tending to royal duties. I told myself, rising to slip into the silk robe left at the bedside. Its smooth, luxurious fabric felt foreign against my skin, so unlike the rough linen I’d worn as a slave in the Thornfield household just a week ago. Back then, I was nothing—a lowly servant, invisible and expendable. Now, I was a prince’s wife, his mate, living in a palace.

The thought wrapped me in a fragile happiness, so dreamlike I feared it might burst like a soap bubble.

I needed to see him.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” came a gentle voice. An older maid entered, carrying a breakfast tray. She bowed respectfully, setting the tray on the table beside the bed. “I’ve brought you breakfast and hot tea.”

“Thank you,” I said, offering a small smile. Being addressed with such deference still felt unreal, like stepping into someone else’s life. As I picked up the delicate teacup, I couldn’t hold back my question. “Do you know where Prince Perock is?”

The maid’s expression flickered with surprise, her eyes catching a strange glint, as if my directness caught her off guard. She quickly composed herself. “His Highness left early this morning. He has many matters to attend to.”

“Oh, I see,” I said, nodding, though a pang of disappointment settled in my chest. I understood the weight of hisresponsibilities as the heir, but the emptiness lingered. “Did he say when he’ll return?”

The maid’s lips twitched, and an unreadable emotion passed through her eyes. “Your Highness, His Highness doesn’t typically share his schedule.” She paused, then added, “But you needn’t worry about such things. On the night of the full moon, His Highness will come to you.”

The teacup slipped from my hands, shattering on the floor with a sharp crack. The maid gasped, dropping to her knees to gather the pieces, but I barely noticed. My head spun, the words echoing in my mind.

“The full moon?” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Once a month?”