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Story: Brutal Alpha’s Forced Mate (Starfire Hollow Alphas #3)
Ten Years Later
The latest casualty report hits my desk like a sledgehammer. Two dead. Five injured. Every name on the list is someone I’ve fought beside, laughed with, shared drinks with around the fire. I fold the paper in half and shove it to the corner of my desk, but it doesn’t stop the faces from flashing in my mind.
“Gray, if you keep pacing like that, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor.” Theo leans back in his chair, his boots propped on the edge of my desk like we’re at happy hour and not neck-deep in crisis. He’s been my beta for ten years now, ever since I lost Carter. While his laid-back attitude usually balances out my own intensity, today it’s driving me insane.
I stop mid-step and glare at him. “Forgive me if I’m not in the mood to sit still while demons tear through our territory and leave bodies in their wake.”
Theo raises an eyebrow but doesn’t budge. “Losing your cool won’t bring anyone back. And it sure as hell won’t stop the next attack.”
His calm delivery grates, but I can’t argue with him. I run a hand through my hair, and the strands catch between my fingers as I blow out a frustrated breath. “We’re at a disadvantage, Theo. You know it. I know it. Hell, every pack in the alliance knows it.”
Theo swings his boots off the desk and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We both know how to get ahead of this thing.”
“Don’t.” My voice is sharp, but it doesn’t faze him.
Theo’s not the kind of guy who dances around a point. He’s more like a battering ram, and right now, I can see him lining up his swing. “We need a witch, Gray.”
I knew it was coming, but the words still make me sick to my stomach. I drag a hand over my face and drop into my chair. “You think I don’t know that?”
“I think you’ve been avoiding it,” he replies, crossing his arms. “Look, you’ve done an amazing job keeping this pack strong. But we’re outmatched, Gray. The other alphas in the area have an edge that we don’t. Damien and Alec both married witches. They’re personally protected and have magical reinforcements at their backs. Us? We’re relying on claws and sheer stubbornness.”
“And we’re still standing,” I snap.
“For now. How many more attacks can we survive? How many more names are you willing to add to that list before you admit we need help?”
I stare at the casualty report, and my chest pulls tight. He’s not wrong. I hate that he’s not wrong.
“Witches don’t exactly fall out of the sky, Theo,” I finally comment. “And even if they did, what makes you think one would come here? It’s not like we have a stellar reputation when it comes to welcoming witches.”
Theo smirks, but there’s no humor in it. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we offer them a decent paycheck. Or protection. Or, I don’t know, the chance to not be burned alive in some backwater town. Take your pick.”
“You’re oversimplifying,” I argue. “It’s not just about finding a witch. It’s about finding one who won’t run the second they hear the word ‘shifter.’ Or worse, one who doesn’t decide to curse us all the moment they feel slighted.”
Theo’s quiet for a moment, and when he speaks again, his voice is lower, almost cautious. “You know someone who wouldn’t run.”
I freeze, and my pulse ticks in my ears.
“Jaslyn,” he says.
Her name alone hits me with more force than the report ever could. It’s been ten years, but the memory of her is sharp enough to draw blood. Reddish-brown hair that caught fire in the sunlight. Eyes as green and alive as a forest after rain. She was everything natural and feral, chaos wrapped in a fiery package.
And I banished her.
I lean back in my chair as the weight of the memory settles over me. “She’s gone, Theo. I made sure of that.”
“Doesn’t mean she’s dead,” he counters. “Look, I’m not saying that what happened was easy. Hell, I agreed with your call back then. But the world’s changed, Gray. Witches aren’t the enemy anymore. They’re allies. Partners.”
“She killed my beta,” I point out. “Whether it was an accident or not, Carter is dead because of her. And if the other packs had found out we’d been harboring a witch—”
“Would’ve been game over for us,” Theo interrupts. “I get it. I do. But Carter’s been gone for a decade, and so has she. And there’s no stigma against witches and shifters anymore, obviously. You made the hard choice to protect the pack. But you and I both know there’s more to that story.”
I draw in a long, heavy breath. He’s not wrong, but admitting it feels like a betrayal after she killed one of our own.
“She wouldn’t come back,” I say, more to myself than to him. “Not after what I did.”
Theo shrugs. “Maybe not. But you won’t know unless you try. And let’s be honest—what choice does she have? A witch without a pack or coven is vulnerable, especially one like her. Either she’s scraping by somewhere, or she’s…” He trails off, but I know exactly what he’s thinking.
The image hits hard: Jaslyn, shackled and broken, her fire extinguished in some underground hellhole. I shake it away. No, not Jaslyn. She was always too resourceful, too fierce to let the world get her. If anyone could’ve clawed their way back to solid ground after what I did, it was her. She had this way of bouncing back, of staring down every insult, every sneer with defiance in her eyes and a smirk that dared you to try harder.
I look away, staring out the window at the forest beyond. “Even if I wanted to find her, it’s been ten years. She could be anywhere.”
Theo leans back with a wide grin as if he’s already won. “You know as well as I do that witches leave trails. Subtle ones, sure, but they’re there if you know what to look for. And if you don’t, I bet we could hire someone who does.”
I’ve thought about her over the years—where she ended up, if she learned to control her magic, if she ever forgave me. But thinking about her and dragging her back into this world are two very different things.
Still, Theo’s right. If she’s out there, she might be our only shot.
I rake a hand through my hair and lean forward, planting my palms on my desk. “Fine. I’ll look into it. But this stays between us. No one else can know.”
“You’re doing the right thing, Gray.”
“Get out of my office,” I grumble, but there’s no heat behind it.
Theo chuckles as he stands. “For what it’s worth, I think she’ll surprise you.”
As the door closes behind him, I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. The right thing . That’s what I told myself ten years ago, too.
And look how that turned out.
***
It doesn’t take long to track her down. Just like my beta said, witches leave traces, and Jaslyn is no exception. A few phone calls and a good sniff around, and I’ve found her.
The irony isn’t lost on me as I stand in the shadow of a rundown, two-story building on the edge of a neighboring town, staring at the peeling paint and crooked sign above the door. Malcolm’s Oddities & Services . The name practically screams “tourist trap,” but then again, I’m not here for sightseeing. I’m here because the trail ended here. Because she is here.
I didn’t expect this.
I thought I’d find her thriving somewhere, maybe running a coven or working with another pack. I imagined her successful, independent, and every bit the spitfire I remember. Instead, I’m staring at the dark window of a shop that smells like old wood, damp earth, and misery. The knot in my chest tightens until it’s hard to breathe.
When I step inside, the air shifts. It’s saturated with the kind of magic that makes my wolf stir uneasily. The place is dim, cluttered with shelves crammed full of trinkets, spell ingredients, and things I don’t care to identify. At the far end of the room, a hunched man stands behind a counter, his gray hair greasy and slicked back. Malcolm, I’m guessing. He looks up as the door creaks shut behind me.
“My, my,” the man drawls, his voice oily enough to make my skin crawl. “What brings an alpha to my humble establishment?”
I take a step closer, ignoring the way the floorboards groan under my weight. “I’m looking for someone.”
Malcolm raises an eyebrow. “This isn’t a police station, wolf. We don’t deal in missing persons.”
“Her name’s Jaslyn,” I go on. “And I know she’s here.”
For a moment, Malcolm’s face remains neutral. Then he smirks, and it takes every ounce of restraint I have not to snap his neck. “Ah, Jaslyn,” he says, drawing out her name like it’s a joke only he understands. “Hard worker, that one. Real good with her hands. Shame she’s got a bit of a temper.”
My wolf snarls beneath my skin, but I pull myself together enough to continue. “Where is she?”
Malcolm tilts his head, considering me like I’m some kind of interesting puzzle. “Why the sudden interest? You didn’t seem too concerned about her ten years ago when you kicked her out.”
How the hell does he know about that? My pulse ticks faster, but I keep my expression locked down, giving him nothing. I’m not about to let some slimy, third-rate warlock rattle me. It doesn’t matter how he knows.
I narrow my eyes and step closer, letting some of the alpha in my voice slip through. “I’m not here to explain myself to you, old man. Where is she?”
Malcolm doesn’t flinch. He just shrugs and gestures toward the back of the shop. “Working, naturally. We usually keep her at the house, but we were short-staffed today. Lucky day for you, it seems.”
I move past him without another word, pushing open a door that leads into a narrow hallway. The smell hits me first—sweat, dirt, and the faint metallic tang of blood. It’s the kind of smell that clings to the walls, the floors, the air itself. My stomach turns as I follow the hallway to another door, this one slightly ajar.
When I step through, the sight stops me cold.
The room is large, with rows of workstations cluttered with tools, herbs, and half-finished magical trinkets. At the far end, bent over a table, is Jaslyn.
Her hair is longer now, tangled and dull where it used to shine like fire under the sunlight. It spills over her shoulders in thick, unkempt waves, a poor echo of the wild beauty it once was. Her clothes are simple and worn, the kind of fabric that chafes and barely holds together after too many washes. They’re too loose on her, hanging off a frame that’s thinner than it should be. But even through the threadbare material, I can’t help but notice the curves that weren’t there before.
She’s not the girl I banished. She’s a woman now. Her body is fuller in some ways and sharper in others, and there’s something striking about the contrast. Despite the obvious toll of her life here, there’s a strength to her posture, a stubborn determination in the way she moves, even when her hands shake. Her skin is pale but still dusted with freckles, giving her a beautiful glow that doesn’t belong in a place like this.
It’s unsettling. Infuriating. How can she still look this… breathtaking? Even worn down, even hollowed out, she’s still the most captivating thing I’ve ever seen.
She doesn’t see me. She doesn’t know I’m here. But even from across the room, the sight of her stirs something deep inside me, something overwhelming and protective. She’s too good for this place, too strong and too beautiful to be left here, wasting away under someone else’s thumb. And she’s only here because of me.
I’m going to fix it. No matter what it takes.
I thought I’d prepared myself for this. For the possibility that she might not have had it easy after I banished her. But nothing could’ve prepared me for seeing her like this. Beaten down. Stripped of the fire that used to define her.
Guilt crashes over me like a tidal wave. This is my fault. I made her vulnerable. I left her to fend for herself, and this is where it got her. Here in this hellhole, working herself to the bone for scraps.
My wolf growls, a low, dangerous sound that I can’t suppress. She doesn’t deserve this. Not Jaslyn. Not the girl I banished to save my pack. The girl I’ve thought about every day since.
I turn and storm back into the shop, slamming the door shut behind me. Malcolm looks up, startled, but his smirk returns quickly enough.
“How much do you want for her?” I growl, cutting him off before he can say a word.
Malcolm’s smile widens, and I see it for what it is—pure greed. “Everyone’s got a price, Alpha,” he says, leaning back against the counter. “But Jaslyn? She’s worth more than you can afford.”
The words ignite something in me, a fury so strong that it burns away the guilt and hesitation. I step closer, letting my wolf rise to the surface just enough to make my point. “You have no idea what I can afford. Name your price.”
Malcolm’s smile falters, but only for a moment. He straightens, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re the one who threw her out in the first place. She told me all about it, you Red Arrow mutt. Here I thought wolves were ingrained with some sense of loyalty. Now you’re here, what, to play the hero? Sorry, wolf, but it’s too late for that.”
My hands curl into fists, and it takes everything I have not to lunge at him. “She doesn’t belong here. And you’re not going to keep her.”
Malcolm laughs, a cold, mirthless sound that makes my skin crawl. “I paid good money for her, Alpha. Besides, she’s better off here working for me than with a flippant wolf who can’t make up his mind about her.”
The words are like a slap, but I don’t let them show on my face. “We’ll see about that.”
Malcolm doesn’t say anything as I turn and walk out of the shop, slamming the door behind me.
This isn’t over. Not by a long shot. If Malcolm thinks he can keep her, he’s wrong. Jaslyn may not know it yet, but she’s coming back to Red Arrow. Even if I have to burn this entire place to the ground to make it happen.