The Alpha’s Mate Who Cried Wolf
Chapter 1

The Alpha's Mate Who Cried Wolf

Chapter 1

Tears roll down my cheeks as my father holds me against my bedroom wall by my hair. Striking myface, he splits my lip, and bruises my eye after striking me again. I fall to the floor crying.

“Please Dad! Stop this, stop hurting me!’ I beg.

'YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT BEFORE YOU KILLED YOUR MOTHER!" He shouts.“Please Dad! You know it was an accident. I didn't mean for her to die!’ I plead. We stare ateachother with cold consternation. “Please Dad! Please forgive me,’ I beg.

He looks at me with hatred in his eyes, before his expression changes. He smirks.

“Oh Astrid, you're no daughter of mine! You never were: your mother told me your real father waskilled when she was pregnant with you. I loved your mother so much I was willing to pretend to beyour father!"

“No! That's not true! Mum would never keep something like that from me!” I yell while sobbing."Your mother didn't want you to replace out the truth until you were eighteen. She wanted you to live anormal life. She says once you're eighteen you would replace out your true identity. I didn't know whatshe really meant; I guess she was planning to tell you about your biological father then. You'll neverreplace out who he is now!" He cackles before kicking me in the ribs. I yell out in pain and hold my side.Locking my bedroom door behind him, he leaves me in my bedroom alone.

Dragging my beaten figure across the cold, hard floor, I carefully lift myself up onto my quilted bedand lie on my side. With a sore right hand, I feel my broken ribs under my clothing and burst intotears. I don't know how long I lie there this way before crying myself to sleep. The next morning, Igingerly pull my work uniform on and quietly creep down the stairs. Dad is asleep; most likelypassed out in a drunken stupor. I pull my hoodie over my head, walk out the front door, and headto work.

I was going to school until my teachers saw the bruises on my arms and called Dad into theprincipal's office to question him. I begged my teachers not to contact him. They didn't believe mewhen I told them I'm clumsy and just fell down the stairs. I haven't been allowed to return to schoolsince; I was forced to replace a job as a kitchenhand and a waitress at a diner about a thirty-minutewalk from home.

On my way to work, a black Mercedes moves conspicuously behind me. I have noticed this same carfollowing me for a few months now. The driver is always watching me. I usually veer off away fromthe road when it approaches, choosing the longer route to work, through the woods. I enjoy my joband my colleagues. My boss Jim is really lovely; he always knows something isn't right but he nevermakes me talk about it. His offer to help is always there, in an unspoken, supportive and notedmanner.

I walk straight into the kitchen and wash my hands to prep the salads and other food. After feelingvery hot I walk over to where I left my bag on a stool, discarding my hoodie onto it and unzippingmy jumper to cool down. Twenty minutes pass when Jim comes in to cook the first food orders forthe day. A growl erupts; he sounds strangely like a wild animal. I look up at Jim who isn't very happy.“Astrid, you know you can come to me for help, don't you? You don't have to go back home ifyou're not safe. I have friends in a nearby town who could look after you," he offers.

“Thank you, but I'm perfectly fine. I just fell down the stairs. I'll be fine,’ I say, giving him a smallsmile.

"You said the same thing last time Astrid..." he says.

“What can I say? My house is old; the stairs are starting to rot,’ I say, bursting into tears, andslamming my hands onto the prep table. Jim comes over to me, pulls me into his chest and wrapshis arms around me while I cry.

“Let me help you, Astrid,” he says. I stand back and shake my head.

"You don't understand, I can't accept your help.’

“Why not?" he asks.

“Dad won't let me go easy. He would rather me dead and would kill anyone who tries to help me.Plus, I deserve it,’ I say, wiping my tears from my face.

“No one deserves to be beaten and abused,’ he says.

“I am the reason my mother is dead. It's my fault she died. And this is my punishment. If it'supsetting you seeing a couple of bruises, perhaps I should replace a job elsewhere,’ I yell, walking backto the prep table I pick up the knife and start slicing the lettuce.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I just don't like seeing humans treating our kind like this; evenif you are a rogue, he frowns.

Pausing, with a confused expression, I stare at him.

“Humans? A rogue? I don't know what planet you're from or what kind of human you think I am, butwe're all just humans,’ I say, and continue to chop some carrots on a blue chopping board.

Jim stands there in silence; I look at him and ask what his problem is now. He stands there lookingvery pale with his mouth open, completely frozen.

Jim? Are you ok? What's wrong? Are you having a heart attack?" I ask, walking over to him,concerned.

He blinks and goes to put his hand on my shoulder, before I flinch and take a step back. I know Jimwould never hurt me; I just don't like being touched by anyone. He frowns.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you,’ he says

“I know you wouldn't hurt me; I'm just not used to the gentleness,’ I confess. Jim gives me a sadsmile.

“Do you really not know what you are?’ He asks, on the verge of telling me something I sense Ishould already know.

“What I am? I don't understand the question. I am what we all are. Human,’ I say, giving him a weirdlook.

“Can't you even smell the difference?’ He asks me. I laugh.

“The only thing I smell around here is the food burning in the frying pan,’ I say with a chuckle.“Shit!’ He runs to the stove to turn it off and removes the smoking frying pan

We remain silent in the kitchen for a while after that, and focus on prepping and cooking orders.'For what it's worth, Astrid, whatever happened to your mother, I'm sure she wouldn't want youblaming yourself for her death. I'm sure she would not want your father hurting you all these yearsbecause of it either.’

“Stepfather,’ I correct him.

"Your stepfather? I thought--' he says before I cut him off.

'Yes, I only found out myself, last night. My real father died when my mother was pregnant with me,’I explain.

“I'm so sorry.” He looks downcast.

“I was sorry at first too, but I don't know now. Maybe it might be a good thing he isn't my realfather,” I say. Jim nods and smiles.

“Do you think you could work late tonight? I have important people coming from the next town foran important meeting. It would be great if I could join the meeting for a change, instead of servingthe food and drinks,’ he explains.

“Ill have to ring Dad, and ask, but if it means more booze money for him, I'm sure he will agree toit

My Dad says I can work the extra few hours. All my money from work always goes into his accountanyway. I don't get to see any of it, but I'd still rather be at work if it means not being near him.

“It's fine. He says I can work the few extra hours,” I say. He gives me a wink and a smile.

“Good,’ he exhales with relief.

A few hours later I'm prepping food for the customers coming to the diner for their meeting.

“Is there anything I need to know about this meeting?’ I ask Jim.

“We're just having some, umm, problems in Shadow Crest," he says.

“Oh, in Shadow Crest? I've never been there before; I've heard it's full of aggressive people who actlike wild animals all the time." Jim lets out a laugh

“It's not that bad, and I live there. Am I aggressive? Do I run around like a wild animal?’ He asks.“Good point; you definitely aren't aggressive. And, no, you don't run around like a wild animal. Notthat I know of anyway,” I giggle. Jim laughs.

“If only you knew, Astrid,” he says, laughing.

“They will be here any minute. Just take everyone's drink order, serve them and bring out the platterof food when you're ready.’

“Sure thing, boss," I reply with a smile. “Oh, and Jim, I hope you don't mind if I wear my hood up? I'drather not be stared at or questioned about the umm, bruises..." Jim gives me a nod.

“Of course, that's fine.’

A short while later, I hear the engines of several cars approach and then park in unison; several cardoors slam; the doorbell on the diner door clangs loudly every time someone comes in. I stand onmy tippy toes to see over the kitchen ledge into the dining room. There must be about eighteenmen littered about the place. Not ordinary-looking men either. These men are big, bulky, extremelymasculine, and ripped; they're all wearing suits and are extremely handsome.

When one particular guy walks in, everyone else moves out of his way as though he is someone veryimportant. He is incredibly handsome with dark hair, and the most gorgeous blue eyes. He is well-built in body, and his lips when he smiles - don't get me started on his lips - all I want to know iswhat they taste like.

The handsome man sniffs a waft of something in the air and scrunches his face.

Jim, what is that smell? He asks, looking in my direction. “It smells like vanilla and cookies,” he says,still looking in my direction. I reflexively duck down and go back to finishing the platter for thesehandsome creatures.

“If you men want to make your way to the kitchen counter, Astrid will take your order. Please, noone freak out - especially you, Alpha Ryker, when I tell you, Astrid is a rogue; that's what the strangesmell is," Jim explains.

"WHAT?" Alpha Ryker shouts, slamming his fist on the table.

“Alpha Ryker. Settle down! She is just a young girl who needs a job. She has been under myemployment for almost a year now and is one of my best workers. We're also not on your territoryso she isn't trespassing. She hasn't done anything wrong. So, if you're wanting that vanilla milkshakewith cookies, I suggest you sit down and behave!” Jim warns.

“Are you threatening me Jim?" Alpha Ryker asks.

“Of course not, Alpha. I'm just reminding you. As much as you and everyone else here hate rogues,she has done nothing wrong and is to be kept out of all this. Alpha Ryker growls.