The Alpha's silent heir

​My stomach churned as I stood in the Grand Hall of the Crescent Pack.

Honestly, a place like this wasn't meant for someone like me.

Around me, twenty women stood in a perfect line. They looked like they had been manufactured in a factory for perfection. Every hair was in place, their suits were tailored, and they clutched leather folders filled with degrees from the Royal Nanny Academy.

They smelled of expensive perfume and confidence.

​And then, there was me.

I stood at the very end of the line, trying to shrink into the shadows.

I was wearing a faded gray sweater I’d bought from a thrift store and jeans that had lost their color years ago. My sneakers were caked with mud because I had walked five miles just to get here.

But the other candidates weren't looking at my clothes.

They were staring at my face.

Specifically, at the left side. At the jagged, silvery burn scar that stretched from my cheekbone down to my jaw.

Two years ago, a fire had stolen everything from me—my home, my family, and my memory. That scar was the only receipt I had left. I didn't know who I was before the flames. I only knew I was Ivy.

​"The Alpha is coming! Straighten up!" the assistant barked.

​The double doors didn't just open; they were thrown wide.

Alpha Leo stormed in.

He looked like a man walking through a hurricane. He was exhausted—dark circles bruised the skin under his eyes, his shoulders were slumped—but the power radiating off him made the air thin. He was terrifyingly handsome, in a way that made your chest ache.

Next to him walked Seraphina, his fiancée. She was holding a handkerchief to her nose, looking at us as if we were a bad smell she couldn't get rid of.

​But my eyes were glued to the floor.

To the small boy sitting amidst the chaos.

Liam. Two years old. The Heir.

He wasn't just crying. He was roaring. A raw, guttural sound that shouldn't come from such small lungs. He grabbed a heavy wooden block and hurled it across the room.

"Fine," Leo said, his voice rough with fatigue. "Let’s get this over with. Who’s first?"

​The first candidate, a woman with a PhD, stepped forward with a practiced, plastic smile.

"Hello there, little Prince," she cooed, reaching out.

GROWL.

Liam didn't cry. He growled like a feral wolf pup and snapped his teeth at her hand.

The woman shrieked and scrambled back.

"Next!" Leo shouted, rubbing his temples.

​Twenty women tried. Twenty women failed. Liam was an impenetrable wall of rage. He sat in the middle of the room, a lonely, angry little king.

Seraphina sighed loudly. "Leo, this is ridiculous. The child is defective. Just pick the most expensive nanny, lock them in the nursery, and let him scream it out."

Leo shot her a look that could freeze magma. "He is my son, Seraphina. Not a broken appliance."

​It was my turn.

The assistant looked at me with a sneer. "You," she said. "Just leave. Let's not waste the Alpha's time."

I nodded, humiliation burning my cheeks. I turned to the door.

But just as I grabbed the handle, the screaming stopped.

Abruptly.

The silence that followed was heavier than the noise.

​I turned around.

Liam had lifted his head. His tear-stained face was tilted up, his small nose twitching as he sniffed the air.

He stood up on his wobbly legs.

He started to walk.

He ignored the women in silk. He ignored the diplomas. He walked right past his father.

He came straight to me.

The room held its breath. Liam stopped right in front of my muddy sneakers.

He reached out, wrapped his tiny arms around my leg, and buried his face in my knee.

He let out a long, shaky exhale.

It sounded like relief. Like coming home.

​Trembling, I reached down and touched his cheek.

ZAP.

A spark of blue electricity jumped from my finger to his skin. It wasn't painful; it was warm. It felt like a memory I couldn't quite reach.

Leo was at our side in a blink. He moved so fast I didn't even see him.

"What did you do to him?" he asked. His voice wasn't angry; it was stunned.

"Nothing, Alpha," I whispered. "I'm just... standing here."

​Leo looked at me. He looked at my scar, my rags, and then deep into my eyes.

For a second, confusion swirled in his stormy blue gaze. He tilted his head, as if hearing a whisper from the past, but then he shook it off.

"He hasn't let me hold him in six months," Leo murmured.

Seraphina stomped her foot. "Leo! Look at her! She looks like a beggar! She probably has lice!"

Leo didn't even hear her. He was watching his son cling to me.

"You're hired," he said, his voice final. "Start now."