Second Chance Mate To The Alpha King

Dalia’s POV

“You are getting married to the Lycan king.”

Those were the exact words my father threw at me, as though he was discussing the weather and not telling me I was getting married to a man three times my age.

“You can’t be serious,” I said, slowly, my voice thick with disbelief. “Why would I do that?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“Because he wants you to and you’re going to do as I say.” He replied sharply.

I stared at him as though he had just sprouted another head.

Did he just expect me to accept to marry a man old enough to be my father— a Lycan, no less?

Why was a man that old prepositioning to marry me?

Lycans didn’t marry werewolves. They didn’t even look at us unless they were issuing commands or threats.

“No, I am not going to marry him.” I said, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.

His eyes narrowed, and he moved closer, trying to intimidate me with his size. “We had a deal. He offers his protection to the pack against the rogues, and he marries one of my daughters.”

“Why do I have to be the one to marry him?” I asked. “You have two daughters, Dad.”

He sneered, his lips curling in disgust at me calling him Dad. “You know Kayla is fated to be the alpha’s son. Do you want to ruin your sister's future?” 

A bitter laugh escaped me. “So, it’s my life that should be ruined instead?"

His jaw clenched. “You will do as I say. You have a duty to the pack as the beta’s daughter.”

Duty. What a joke.

My wolf stirred beneath my skin, a dark rumbling growl forming deep in my chest. I pushed her back.

“Pack your things. You leave tomorrow,” he ordered before walking out of my room, leaving me in the wake of his decisions.

Why do I have to be the sacrificial lamb for the whole pack?

A pack that doesn’t care about me. I’m sure everyone would be happy to see me gone.

I cried myself to sleep as I realized my life — as I knew it — was officially over.

I contemplated running away, but I knew better. Life as a rogue was a death sentence and even if I somehow survive, the Lycan king will do anything to find me.

———

The next morning came faster than I had hoped.

The sun rose behind the trees in a dull, mournful glow, like the sky pitied me. I stared out my window as I watched the wood, letting my bitter reality sink in.

The urge to run was suffocating, but I couldn’t. Not with what I was.

A black wolf.

I’d hidden it my entire life. When I first shifted at thirteen—far earlier than any female wolf should—I could see the disgust in my father’s eyes. Kayla walked away from me like I was a virus. They had always blamed me for my mother’s death. And now this was another confirmation of their suspicions.

Black wolves were rare. They are feared and considered bad omens. They were known to bring death and destruction to any pack they were born into.

But the truth was, people feared us for our power.

If the Lycan king knew who I really was, he might have thought twice about marrying me.

My door opened, but I didn’t turn to see who it was.

“Dalia?” Kayla’s haughty voice rang through the room.

I ignored her the way I always did, but that only seemed to fuel her need to provoke me.

“I see you finally caught yourself a husband,” she mocked, stepping closer. Sarcasm dripped from every word.

I didn’t reply or react, but she continued either way.

“You should be grateful. No one would ever want to marry you anyway. I still wonder why the Lycan king wants to marry you, but I guess old age makes you hysterical.”

She stepped closer to me leaning over my shoulder and I could feel her breath on my skin. “Ignore me all you want; it still won’t change the fact that you’re a reject.”

That hit a nerve, my eyes burned with unshed tears, but I refused to let her see me weak.

“Get out of my room, Kayla.” I ordered my voice trembled.

In reality, my wolf was clawing to come to the surface, ready to snap and reorganize the bones on her smug little face.

I could smell her fear from a mile away.

“Enjoy your fairytale, sister.” She tried to laugh it off before exiting my room, slamming the door.

I exhaled slowly, fighting back the tears. I wasn’t going to cry.

The rest of the day passed in silence as I packed my few belongings. I didn’t own much—just a handful of clothes bought for me to avoid walking around naked.

Kayla got all the love from our father, while I was left with nothing but his empty words. I reached for the old, tattered book on my bedside table—the only thing I had left that belonged to my mother.

I clutched the obsidian necklace she had given me, trying to calm the storm brewing inside me.

I pulled the necklace off and placed it in its wooden box.

As the sun dipped a low howl echoed from the edge of the woods. Something deep and resonant.

That was definitely not a werewolf.

The Lycans are here. They had come for me.

My fathers barged into my room. “They are here. You don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“I will do whatever I want.” I said, growling at him.

“That’s it.” He grabbed me by the arm, dragging me downstairs. I could have easily escaped his grasp, but for some reason, I’ve always been afraid of my dad.

I always thought that maybe if I didn’t fight back or do anything, he would realize that I’m not dangerous. That I’m not to be feared.

He successfully dragged me outside where a black car was waiting for me.

The Lycans were tall, their human forms intimidating enough. I couldn’t even imagine what they looked like in wolf form.

A low growl came from one of the men standing next to the car.

“Let go of her arm,” he commanded, his voice sending a chill through my skin.

My father instantly released me, as though I was fire.

“You have no right to her,” he snarled. “She’s now the Lycan king’s property.”

Property? Really?

I had become nothing more than a pawn in some trade deal.

I stepped away from my father. Anywhere was better than being here now. I could see pack members peering from their windows, too afraid to come out, too afraid of crossing the Lycans.

The car door was opened for me. I stepped inside.

Kayla emerged from the door, my suitcase in her hand. A victorious smile was plastered across her face.

The man with the brown hair took the suitcase from her before sliding into the car next to me.

We drove away from the pack, leaving my past behind and my future uncertain.