FATED TO THE ALPHA WHO HATES ME

KAYE’S POV

I should have left this town two weeks ago.

That was the rule. Three months maximum in one place, then move on before anyone started asking questions. But the tips at Rosie's Diner were good, and the manager did not care that I had no references. So I stayed. And now I was going to pay for it.

I wiped down the counter for the third time, watching the door. The sun was setting outside, painting the street orange and red. Most of the dinner rush had cleared out. Just a few truckers left in the corner booth, and old Mr. Peterson nursing his coffee by the window.

My wolf stirred inside me, restless and uneasy. She had been like this all day. Pacing. Whining. Something was wrong.

I ignored her and kept wiping. The bell above the door chimed. Three men walked in. They were big, dressed in dark clothes, and they moved like predators. My heart stopped.

Wolves.

I could smell them from across the room. Pine and earth and something sharp that made my wolf bare her teeth. They were not here for burgers.

The tallest one looked right at me. His eyes flashed gold for just a second. Then he smiled. It was not a friendly smile.

"Kaye Muani," he said. His voice carried across the diner. "We have been looking for you."

My hands froze on the counter. The rag slipped from my fingers. Mr. Peterson looked up from his coffee, confused. The truckers stopped talking.

"I think you have the wrong person," I said. My voice sounded steady, but my heart was pounding so hard I thought it might explode.

The tall wolf laughed. "No. We do not."

He started walking toward me. The other two spread out, blocking the exits. My wolf screamed at me to run, but there was nowhere to go. I was trapped.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Blackwater enforcers," the tall one said. He was close now, close enough that I could see the silver glint of the chain he was holding. "Alpha Rivers wants to see you."

Ice flooded my veins. Blackwater. The pack my father supposedly destroyed. The pack that had been hunting Moonstone survivors for six years.

They found me.

"I did not do anything," I said quickly. "Whatever you think I did, it was not me. I was not even there."

"The Alpha will decide that," the enforcer said. "You can come quietly, or we can do this the hard way."

I looked at the door. At the windows. At the truckers who were starting to stand up, sensing trouble. None of them could help me. If I fought, people would get hurt. And I would lose anyway.

I raised my hands slowly. "Okay. I will come."

The enforcer's smile widened. He pulled out the silver chain. "Smart girl."

Silver burned when it touched wolf skin. It weakened us, made it impossible to shift. I gritted my teeth as he wrapped the chain around my wrists. Pain shot up my arms, but I did not make a sound.

"Let's go," he said, pulling me toward the door.

Rosie came out of the kitchen, her face pale. "Hey! What are you doing? Let her go!"

"Stay out of this, human," one of the other enforcers growled.

Rosie grabbed the phone. "I am calling the police!"

The tall enforcer did not even look at her. "Go ahead. But she will be long gone by the time they get here."

He dragged me outside. A black SUV was parked at the curb, engine running. They shoved me into the back seat, and one of the enforcers climbed in on either side of me. The tall one got in the driver's seat.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"Blackwater Territory," he said, starting the engine. "Oregon."

My stomach dropped. That was over a thousand miles away. Once we crossed into pack territory, I would be completely at their mercy. No one would hear me scream. No one would help me.

The SUV pulled away from the diner. I watched through the window as Rosie stood on the sidewalk with her phone, yelling. Then we turned a corner, and she disappeared.

I was alone.

The enforcers did not talk to me during the drive. They did not talk to each other either. They just sat there, silent and stone-faced, like I was cargo instead of a person. The silver burned my wrists. My wolf whimpered and curled up small inside me, too weak to fight.

We drove for hours. Through the night and into the next day. They stopped once for gas, but they did not let me out. One of them brought me a bottle of water and a granola bar. I drank the water but could not eat. My stomach was too twisted with fear.

By the time we reached the mountains, the sun was setting again. The trees grew thicker, taller, blocking out the light. We turned onto a dirt road that wound deeper and deeper into the forest.

And then I saw it. The packhouse.

It was massive. Three stories of stone and wood, with wide windows and a wraparound porch. Smoke curled from the chimney. Wolves moved around outside, some in human form, some shifted. They all stopped and stared as the SUV pulled up.

The tall enforcer opened my door. "Out."

I climbed out on shaking legs. The silver chain made it hard to balance. Wolves gathered around us, circling, watching. I could feel their hatred like a physical weight pressing down on me.

"Is that her?" someone whispered.

"Moonstone trash," another voice spat.

"She should be dead."

I kept my eyes on the ground and tried not to cry. My wolf was silent now, frozen with terror.

The enforcer grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the packhouse. Up the steps. Through the front door. Inside, the air smelled like wood smoke and coffee and wolves. So many wolves.

We walked down a long hallway. Wolves pressed against the walls to let us pass, glaring at me. One woman lunged forward and slapped me across the face. Pain exploded in my cheek.

"That is for my son," she hissed.

The enforcer did not stop her. He just kept dragging me forward.

We stopped in front of a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. The enforcer knocked twice.

"Come in," a voice said from inside.

The enforcer opened the door and shoved me through. I stumbled and almost fell. When I looked up, I saw him.

Alpha Ethan Rivers.

He was standing behind a huge desk, his hands braced on the surface, staring at me. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with black hair and eyes the color of a winter storm. A scar cut across his ribs, visible through his open collar. He looked like he had been carved out of stone. Cold. Hard. Dangerous.

And the second I looked into his eyes, the world exploded.

The mate bond slammed into me like lightning.

The tall enforcer opened my door. "Out."

I climbed out on shaking legs. The silver chain made it hard to balance. Wolves gathered around us, circling, watching. I could feel their hatred like a physical weight pressing down on me.

"Is that her?" someone whispered.

"Moonstone trash," another voice spat.

"She should be dead."

I kept my eyes on the ground and tried not to cry. My wolf was silent now, frozen with terror.

The enforcer grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the packhouse. Up the steps. Through the front door. Inside, the air smelled like wood smoke and coffee and wolves. So many wolves.

We walked down a long hallway. Wolves pressed against the walls to let us pass, glaring at me. One woman lunged forward and slapped me across the face. Pain exploded in my cheek.

"That is for my son," she hissed.

The enforcer did not stop her. He just kept dragging me forward.

We stopped in front of a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. The enforcer knocked twice.

"Come in," a voice said from inside.

The enforcer opened the door and shoved me through. I stumbled and almost fell. When I looked up, I saw him.

Alpha Ethan Rivers.

He was standing behind a huge desk, his hands braced on the surface, staring at me. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with black hair and eyes the color of a winter storm. A scar cut across his ribs, visible through his open collar. He looked like he had been carved out of stone. Cold. Hard. Dangerous.

And the second I looked into his eyes, the world exploded.

The mate bond slammed into me like lightning. Hot and bright and undeniable. My wolf surged to life, howling, desperate to get closer to him. Every nerve in my body lit up. I could feel him. His anger. His pain. His shock.

Because he felt it too.

Ethan's eyes went wide. His hands clenched on the desk so hard the wood cracked. For a moment, neither of us moved. Neither of us breathed.

Then his expression went cold again. Colder than before.

"No," he said quietly. "This is not possible."

But it was. Fate had just done the cruelest thing imaginable.

The daughter of his enemy was his fated mate.