Page 51 of Alpha's Exiled Mate
“Forgive us, we mean no harm,” the general said cautiously, stepping forward, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. My wolf bristled, its instincts still on edge, but I soothed it, willing it to stand down, my breath coming in shallow gasps. “Your right shoulder—does it bear a birthmark?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but my vision blurred, consciousness slipping away like water through my fingers. The last thing I remembered was being lifted gently onto a horse, the world fading to black as the rain continued to fall.
When I awoke, I was in a lavish bedroom, the sheets soft against my skin, the view outside revealing an unfamiliar city bathed in morning light. A woman stood by my bedside, her golden hair and green eyes mirroring my own, her face alightwith a joy so profound it seemed to radiate from her. Tears glistened in her eyes as she reached out, her hand trembling.
“Lilia, my child,” she said, her voice breaking as she touched my face, her fingers warm against my cheek. “You’re finally home.”
In that moment, twenty years of mystery unraveled, the pieces of my life falling into place. I wasn’t a nameless orphan, a slave without a past, but the lost princess of Fellinger. Shortly after my birth, my father—the crown prince—had been murdered by his brother, a traitor who sought the throne. As the sole heir, I became a target, a threat to his ambitions. To protect me, my mother sent me to a neighboring kingdom, suppressing my wolf with a spell to keep my identity hidden, to prevent my power from betraying me. She’d expected a brief separation, a temporary measure until the rebellion was quelled, but the conflict dragged on, and I vanished into the years, lost to her.
“I never stopped looking for you,” she said, gripping my hand tightly, her tears falling freely now. “Every day, every moment, I held onto hope, praying you were safe.”
When the healer confirmed my pregnancy, my mother’s expression grew complex, a mix of concern and resolve. She didn’t ask about the father, didn’t press for details I wasn’t ready to share. Instead, she vowed to protect me and my child, no matter the cost.
“This child is innocent,” she said firmly, her voice steady with conviction. “She will be part of Fellinger’s royal bloodline, our future. We will keep her safe.”
On a crisp spring morning, Anna was born. The healer said it might be because I ran away on a rainy night, which led to the premature birth of my child, and my body, still recovering from years of hardship, made the birth grueling. The pain was unlike anything I’d known, a relentless force that felt as if it were tearing me apart from the inside. Each contraction was awave crashing over me, threatening to drown me in its intensity. I gripped the bedsheets, my knuckles white, my teeth clenched, sweat blurring my vision as I fought to breathe through the agony. In my mind, I repeated a single mantra: Hold on, for my child.
With one final, excruciating push, I heard her cry—clear and strong, a sound that pierced through the pain like sunlight through storm clouds. The pain vanished, replaced by an overwhelming love as the midwife placed the warm, tiny bundle in my arms. She was so small, so perfect, her wrinkled face flushed with life, her tiny hands flailing as if greeting the world with fearless curiosity.
“Anna… my Anna,” I whispered, stroking her soft hair, tears streaming down my face—tears of joy, the happiest I’d ever shed, washing away the pain of the past.
My daughter was here, in my arms, and nothing else mattered.
Joy and pain intertwined in that moment. Anna was healthy, her cries strong, but her eyes—Perock’s amber eyes—were a stark reminder of the past I couldn’t escape, the only mark he’d left on my life. They were a mirror of his, a connection I could neither deny nor embrace.
For five years, under my mother’s guidance, I learned to be an heir, transforming from an illiterate slave who’d known only servitude to a poised princess capable of navigating the complexities of courtly affairs. The journey was arduous, each lesson a battle against my own insecurities, but for Anna and for Fellinger, I persevered, driven by a fierce determination to give my daughter a future worthy of her. My mother never pressed me about Anna’s father, though I knew she suspected. Amber eyes were rare, a trait unique to Perock’s bloodline, and Anna’s were unmistakable.
“Mom? What are you thinking about?” Anna’s voice pulled me back to the present, her curious eyes watching me from across the room. She stood in her nightgown, her hair slightly mussed, her expression bright with the innocence only a child could carry.
“Nothing, sweetheart,” I said, forcing a smile to hide the turmoil within. “Just thinking about our mission.”
Anna grinned mischievously, a spark of playfulness in her eyes. “Is it about that scary-looking king? I think he likes you.”
My heart skipped a beat, a flush rising to my cheeks. “Why would you say that?” I asked, my voice tighter than I intended.
“I thought about it,” she said matter-of-factly, her small hands clasped in front of her. “His look was different from Grandmother’s. Like in the storybooks, when someone finds their long-lost love.”
I nearly choked, my breath catching as I turned to fuss with a tea tray on the table, hiding my panic. “Anna, where did you hear such things?” I asked, my voice strained.
“From the maids,” she said with an innocent shrug, her eyes wide and guileless. “They’re always talking about knights and princesses, about love and reunions.”
I took a deep breath, steadying myself, and decided to change the subject. “Time for bed, little one. Tomorrow will be busy.”
After tucking Anna in, her small form nestled under the blankets, I stepped onto the balcony, letting the cool night breeze soothe my flushed cheeks. The city’s lights sparkled below, a constellation of memories both familiar and foreign, each one tied to the life I’d left behind.
Bringing Anna here was risky, a decision that had weighed heavily on me. But she was too young to be left behind, too precious to be separated from me. I wasn’t sure if Perock recognized me as the bride who’d worn Viossi’s face all those years ago. Five years ago, I’d been a shadow, a stand-in cloakedin deception. Now, I stood in my true form, my identity reclaimed. But the bond’s power was undeniable, the electric tremor when our eyes met during the ceremony impossible to ignore. My wolf had stirred, recognizing him, yearning to answer a call I’d fought to silence.
I returned to Anna’s side, brushing a lock of hair from her face as she slept, her breathing soft and even. No matter what, I’d protect her, shield her from the complications of my past.
The next day, Anna and I strolled through the palace’s small garden, the morning air fresh with the scent of blooming flowers. She skipped ahead, her laughter a bright note in the quiet, when a scent hit me - a faint scent of pine mixed with leather.
My heart lurched, and I turned sharply to find Perock standing at the path’s edge, his presence commanding even in the soft light.
His gaze fell on Anna, and he froze, as if struck by lightning. His pupils contracted, his face a mix of shock and dawning realization as his eyes darted between us, piecing together the impossible truth.
“Impossible…” he whispered, his voice barely audible, trembling with emotion.
Instinctively, I stepped in front of Anna, shielding her with my body, but it was too late. She peeked out from behind me, her amber eyes meeting his, a mirror of his own, their resemblance undeniable.