Page 28 of Alpha’s Hated Mate (Shifters of Clarion)

I freeze in my chair, my heart pounding against my chest while the Alpha King’s golden gaze scrutinizes every inch of my face. The silence stretches between us like a live wire, ready to spark at the slightest touch. Aydan’s body tenses beside me, which is both comforting and terrifying.

The Alpha King clears his throat, finally breaking the fog of silence. “The Royal Mages have confirmed through DNA testing that you are indeed my niece.” His eyes never leave mine, watching for my reaction. “The daughter of my brother Raphael and Natasha of Hino.”

I swallow hard, uncertain how to respond. Is this an accusation or an acknowledgment?

“I’ve been told you had visions of what happened to Natasha after the . . . events that claimed Raphael’s life.” His tone softens slightly, revealing a hint of something I hadn’t expected—curiosity, perhaps even concern. “But tell me about your childhood.”

“Uh, I never knew Natasha—my mother. My grandparents . . . ” I pause, correcting myself. “The people I thought were my grandparents weren’t actually related to me. They found me abandoned beneath their porch.”

Aydan’s hand clasps mine beneath the table, his warmth pulsing through me, fueling my strength.

“They were kind people, good people. Gave me a wonderful childhood. But they died when I was a teenager.” I drop my gaze to the polished table surface. “After that, I bounced between different families until I came of age. I guess you can say that becoming an orphaned Scarlet made me a ‘troubled teen’. As soon as I came of age, I applied for enrollment at Moonhelm on a scholarship.”

The Alpha King shakes his head. “I’m sorry to hear about your grandparents’ passing and the tough years that followed.” He leans forward, his massive frame seeming to take up even more space. From inside his jacket, he pulls out a small, ornate frame and slides it across the table toward me. “This was one of the few portraits of your parents together.”

I lift the portrait with unsteady hands. A young woman with tanned skin and long dark hair stands beside a handsome man with the same commanding presence as the king before me, but more piercing eyes. My fingers trace their faces through the glass. My parents. You would’ve never known one of them had Scarlet blood in their DNA.

“Had I known of your existence . . . ” The Alpha King’s sullen gaze lingers on the portrait. “Things would have been different.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” Aydan interjects carefully, “according to my father’s journals, Natasha believed you would kill both her and the baby—Saffron—if you discovered them.”

The temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees. The Alpha King’s face darkens, not with rage but with something that looks startlingly like pain.

“That was never true.” His voice rumbles low, thick with emotion he’s clearly fighting to control. “Natasha was heart-broken and misguided. My brother’s betrayal devastated us all, but I would never—” He stops, collecting himself. “Had she come back and swore her loyalty, even after everything, I would have welcomed her back to court.

“And despite his treachery, Raphael was my brother. I never stopped loving him.” His gaze finds mine again, intense and earnest. “I would never punish a child for the actions of their parents. Never.”

Aydan’s grip tightens on my hand. “My father—” His voice breaks. “My father is responsible for Natasha’s death. For the suffering of so many Scarlets.”

I turn to look at him, wanting desperately to ease the guilt etched across his features, but the Alpha King speaks first.

“The crown bears its own culpability.” The admission stuns us both into silence. “We’ve allowed the persecution of Scarlets to continue unchecked for generations.”

A sharp knock interrupts us. The door opens to reveal a man in a formal navy blue and silver uniform, the royal colors.

“Your Majesty,” he bows slightly.

“Dylan, my Second in Command,” the Alpha King introduces him. “What is it?”

“There is a matter of importance requiring your attention, my lord.”

The Alpha King nods. “Stay a moment. I want you to bear witness to what remains of our conversation.”

Dylan steps inside, closing the door and standing at attention.

The Alpha King rises to his feet with newfound purpose, and we rise as well. His posture straightens, his deep voice taking on the formal cadence of a royal decree.

“From this day forward, discrimination against all wolf kinds shall be outlawed throughout Clarion.” He turns his full attention to me. “And I formally acknowledge you, Saffron Kamaria, as part of the royal family by blood and by birthright.”

Tears come to my eyes unexpectedly, blurring my vision.

“You will carry the title of Her Royal Highness Saffron Kamaria, Princess of Clarion.”

Aydan’s sharp intake of breath matches my own.

I lower my head. “It is an honor, Your Majesty.”

The Alpha King reaches into his pocket once more, retrieving a small velvet pouch. “One more thing . . . ”

He tips the contents into his palm—a silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon, encrusted with crystals that catch the light in rainbow patterns.

“This belonged to Natasha. Raphael gave it to her when they were first mated.” He steps closer, gently taking my hand and placing the pendant in my palm, closing my fingers around it. “A reminder of your lineage.”

The metal feels cool against my skin, but somehow it radiates warmth.

As the Alpha King turns to leave with Dylan, he glances back at me. “The Royal House is open to you. The Luna Queen and our children would welcome your visit anytime.”

This is crazy. I must be dreaming. Me, a Scarlet wolf, welcomed into the Royal House? Just days ago, I was nothing but an outcast at Moonhelm, and now the most powerful wolf in Clarion is treating me like . . . well, family.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I manage to say, my voice sounding much steadier than I feel.

The first tear slowly slides down my cheek. I wonder what my mother would think of me standing here now, holding her pendant, being invited into the world she and my father once belonged to.

As the sun sinks behind academy towers, I trudge toward the containment facility. My mother’s pendant rests against my chest, a symbol of family bonds—both those I’ve lost and those I’ve found.

I never thought I’d be here, voluntarily seeking out Nadia Vaultmore. That arrogant bitch who delighted in tormenting me since day one at the academy, long before she tried to turn me into her mindless puppet as part of a hair-brained plot to murder the Luna Queen.

Aydan still refuses to see her. Fortunately, he’s out with Chad tonight, discussing “Alpha business.”

The facility looms ahead, a stark, windowless building at the edge of campus. Two guards stand at attention outside the entrance, their expressions hardening as they spot me approaching.

“Identification,” the taller one demands, hand extended.

I pull out my academy ID card along with a special clearance badge from Dean Fowler. “I’m here to see Nadia Vaultmore.”

He scans my card with a small device while the other guard looks me up and down with obvious skepticism. “Scarlet visiting the Blood Lycan. Interesting.”

“Clearance checks out,” the first guard says, handing back my credentials. “Standard protocols apply. No physical contact. Do not open or enter her cell. Maintain three feet distance from the barrier at all times. If she shows any signs of transformation, hit the emergency button on the wall.”

I nod. “Yes, sir.”

He unlocks and opens the door, expecting me to follow.

The facility’s interior is modern, clinically white, and eerily quiet. My footsteps echo against the polished floors as another guard escorts me down a corridor lined with reinforced doors. Each one has a small window and a security panel beside it. We stop at the end of the hall.

“Saffron Kamaria,” he announces my name, pressing his palm against the scanner.

A few beeps signal that it recognizes his voice before the door slides open to reveal a stark antechamber. A chair faces a large transparent wall—some kind of reinforced material that looks like glass but undoubtedly isn’t. I step inside.

“You have fifteen minutes,” he says before the door shuts behind me.

Beyond the transparent wall sits Nadia, cross-legged on a simple bed, wearing sweats, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun. She looks smaller somehow, without her designer clothes and perfectly styled make-up.

Her head snaps up at my entrance, blue eyes narrowing.

“Come to gloat, dirty Scarlet?” I hear Nadia’s voice through some kind of audio system, her words laced with contempt despite the slight distortion.

I take a seat in the chair, clutching Alton’s journal in my lap. “No. I came to talk.”

“About what? How you’ve corrupted my brother? Or maybe how you’ve ruined everything my father worked for?”

“Actually, I do want to talk about your father.”

This catches her off-guard. Her posture stiffens, fingers curling into the thickness of her gray sweatpants. “You didn’t know him. He was brilliant. Everything I did was to honor what he started.” She glares at me. “Everything.”

“I believe he was brilliant,” I say carefully. “But I think you might not know everything about his research.”

“Please,” she scoffs, but there’s a defensive edge to it. “I watched him work since I was a child. I know exactly what he wanted—what we both wanted. A stronger wolf-kind. A pure wolf-kind.”

“If you really watched him work for years, then you know who Dr. Emile Muridae is.”

Nadia’s eyes briefly flash with recognition at the mention of the name.

I pull out Alton’s journal. “This is your father’s last journal. Emile gave it to Aydan when we visited Claymore.”

“You’re lying.” Her eyes lock onto the leather-bound book, suspicion flickering across her face. “That’s not his. I found all of his journals in his lab.”

“It is.” I open to a random page, turning it toward the barrier so she can see the familiar handwriting. “That’s his handwriting, isn’t it?”

Nadia falls silent, her gaze transfixed on the journal.

“You need to know that in his final months,” I continue, “he came to believe that Neutrals and Scarlets exist in natural balance. That one cannot—should not—dominate the other.”

Confusion crosses her features, followed quickly by more doubt. “No. That’s not . . . he wouldn’t . . . ”

I read his final entry aloud: “‘The future of our kind lies not in dominance, but in balance. Scarlet and Neutral, passion and temperance, power and control—two halves of the same whole.’“

For the first time since I’ve known her, Nadia Vaultmore has nothing to say.

“You know,” I say, noticing that she’s now avoiding my eyes. “I believe you when you say you did everything to honor your father.”

I stand, approaching the small transfer slot used for delivering meals. “If you truly want to honor your father, you need to honor all of him by reading this.” I slide the journal through the opening.

Nadia doesn’t move immediately, staring at the journal as if it might burn her.

I knock at the door and the guard on the other side opens it. Before leaving, I pause one more time and look back.

Nadia reaches for the journal with hesitant fingers, almost reverently. It’s a small gesture, but stirs a feeling in me that I never anticipated—hope for her redemption.

For Aydan’s sake, I hope that something in those pages reaches Nadia. Not that I’d ever admit it out loud, but maybe—just maybe—she deserves a second chance of having a relationship with her brother. I know how much it would mean to Aydan if his sister found her way back from the darkness.