Punished for a Bastard, But My Pup is the Alpha King's

Lila's POV

The midnight air tasted like ash and betrayal. My eighteenth birthday was supposed to be the night Kael claimed me, the night our bond was sealed under the moonlight. Instead, I stood frozen outside his cabin, the sound of skin slapping against skin cutting through the crisp night air louder than any wolf’s howl. I hadn’t meant to intrude. I had come with flowers in my hand, wild daisies I’d picked from the edge of the stream, hoping to surprise him before the ceremony.

But the surprise was mine.

Through the gap in the heavy wooden door, I saw them. Kael was on top of her, thrusting with a brutality that made my stomach churn. beneath him was Clara, my stepsister who had tripped me in the mud just yesterday, who had laughed when I tore my favorite dress.

"That's it, Kael," Clara moaned, her voice dripping with that sickly sweet venom she always used on me.

"Take what's yours."

Kael groaned, his head buried in her neck. "You feel so fucking good, Clara. So much better than I ever imagined."

I gripped the doorframe, my knuckles turning white. I wanted to burst in there. I wanted to shift and tear her throat out. But the shock was a physical weight, pinning me to the spot. Then, Clara’s eyes opened, and she looked right at the gap where I stood. She didn’t stop. She smiled.

"Tell me about that little mutt, Lila," Clara panted, wrapping her legs tighter around his waist. "The one who thinks she’s your chosen mate."

Kael didn’t even pause. He laughed, a dark, cruel sound that twisted the knife in my heart. "Lila? She’s nothing. Just a duty the pack forced on me. You... you’re the real deal, Clara. We’re fates. We’re true mates."

"She's the third wheel, Kael," Clara goaded him, her eyes locking onto mine with malicious triumph. "She’s the outsider intruding on our bond. She’s the fucking third wheel."

"God, you're right," Kael growled, pistoning his hips faster, driving the point home with every thrust. "She’s just a placeholder. You’re the only one I want. Fuck, I’m going to fill you up."

The betrayal hit me like a physical blow. My knees buckled, and the flowers fell from my hand, tumbling to the dirt. He didn’t just want her; he was rewriting our history, erasing me in the worst possible way, while I stood right there listening. He didn’t even care enough to defend my memory. He was actively destroying it.

I couldn’t breathe. The air was too thin, too thick with their scent. I turned and ran. I didn’t know where I was going, only that I needed to get away. Away from the sounds, away from the realization that the last three years of my life had been a lie.

I shifted course, my feet tearing through the underbrush as I sprinted toward the Darkwood. The ancient trees loomed overhead, their branches skeletal fingers scratching at the moonlight. I ran until my lungs burned, until the tears were streaming down my face, hot and salty against my cold skin.

Then, I smelled it.

Copper. Blood. Strong enough to choke me.

I skidded to a halt, my boots sliding in the damp leaves. In a small clearing ahead, a massive wolf lay on its side. No, not a wolf. A werewolf. He was in his human form, but the power radiating off him was undeniable.

He was huge, his frame packed with muscle that was currently slick with dark, sticky blood.

He was dying. I could feel the life fading from him, a cold ripple in the night air.

I should have run. A rogue male this far north was dangerous, probably a criminal cast out from the Southern packs. But as I stepped closer, his eyes opened. They were a piercing, icy gray, even in the dim light. He looked at me, and for a second, the predator stared back. Then, his gaze softened, just a fraction.

"Help... me," he rasped, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in my chest.

My heart hammered against my ribs. "You're hurt. I need to get the healer."

"No," he gasped, his hand shooting out with surprising speed to grip my ankle. His touch was burning hot, searing my skin. "Too late for healers. Poison. Silver."

I looked at the wound on his side. It was black, veins spidering out from a deep gash. He was right. He didn't have time.

"Is there anything I can do?" The words were out before I could stop them. I didn't owe this stranger anything, but the desperation in his eyes called to something deep inside me, a need to nurture that the pack had tried to beat out of me.

He pulled himself up slightly, wincing in agony. His eyes raked over me, taking in my disheveled appearance, my tear-stained cheeks. He seemed to come to a decision.

"Energy," he gritted out. "I need a surge. A transfer."

"I don't understand. How do I give you energy?"

His grip tightened on my ankle, almost possessive. "Skin to skin. Intimacy. It’s the only way to jumpstart a wolf's healing when the body has given up. I need... to take what you haven't given to anyone else."

My breath hitched. "You mean..."

"Your virginity," he said bluntly, raw need lacing his tone. "The power of a first mating. It can burn the poison out if it’s strong enough. I won't hurt you, but I need you to ride me. Now."

I stared at him, my mind reeling. I had just lost my chosen mate to my bully, and now a dying stranger was asking for the most intimate part of me? It was madness. But looking at him, seeing the strength fighting to stay alive in those gray eyes, something shifted.

Kael had thrown me away like trash. This stranger, this powerful, broken man, needed me. He needed the part of me that Kael had deemed unworthy.

"Okay," I whispered, the word feeling foreign on my tongue. "I'll do it."

I knelt beside him. "But you can't see my face. If my pack finds out... if they know I gave myself to a rogue and wasn't claimed properly..."

"Agreed," he rasped. "Whatever you want."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the strip of cloth I used to tie back my hair. Leaning over him, I gently tied it around his eyes, blindfolding him. The scent of him was overwhelming—musk and pine and that metallic tang of blood. It was intoxicating.

I hesitated, my hands hovering over the laces of my bodice. This was it. I was crossing a line I could never uncross. With shaking fingers, I undid the laces, letting the fabric fall away. The cool air brushed against my skin, hardening my nipples.

I straddled his hips, feeling the hard, hot length of him beneath my skirts. He groaned low in his throat, a sound of pure instinct.

"Hurry," he choked out.

I lifted my skirts, positioning myself over him. I was wet, surprisingly so, a reaction to the adrenaline and the sheer, forbidden nature of what I was about to do. I reached down to guide him, my hand wrapping around his thick, velvet shaft. He was huge, bigger than I expected, and throbbing with life.

I sank down slowly, gasping as he stretched me open. It burned, a sharp, stinging pain mixed with a sudden, intense fullness. I cried out, digging my nails into his shoulders.

"Breathe," he commanded, his voice husky. "Push through it."

I did, taking more of him until I was fully seated. He filled me completely, touching places I didn't know existed. The pain began to ebb, replaced by a strange, throbbing heat. I could feel the energy starting to flow, a tingle at the base of my spine.

I started to move, rocking my hips experimentally. He surged up to meet me, his hands gripping my waist to guide me. We found a rhythm, hard and desperate. I was fucking a stranger in the woods to save his life, and despite the insanity of it, my body was responding. Every stroke sent a jolt of pleasure through me, arching my back.

He leaned up, his face buried against my chest. I felt his hot breath on my skin, then the scrape of his teeth.

He was smelling me, tasting me. His mouth latched onto the soft flesh just above my left breast, sucking hard.

I winced, knowing what was there. A small, jagged scar, a remnant from a fall I’d taken as a child. It was slightly raised, a tiny imperfection on an otherwise smooth surface. His tongue ran over it, lingering, as if memorizing the texture. It sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold air.

"Yes," he hissed, his hips bucking harder. "More."

I rode him faster, chasing the heat, the strange magic that was passing between us. The pressure built low in my belly, tightening like a coil. I was moaning now, unable to stop myself, the sounds echoing in the silent woods.

Suddenly, the snap of a twig broke through the haze.

I froze, my heart stopping. Heavy footsteps crunched on dry leaves, accompanied by the sound of familiar, high-pitched giggling.

Clara.

She was coming. Probably looking for me to gloat, or maybe just taking a walk after ruining my life.

Panic seized me. I couldn't be caught like this. Not naked. Not riding a dying rogue.

I scrambled off him, the loss of his heat instantly making me shiver. I grabbed my dress, pulling it up frantically, fumbling with the laces. The man beneath me let out a growl of frustration, reaching for me, but I slapped his hand away.

"I have to go," I whispered harshly. "Somebody's here."

I didn't wait for a response. I tied my bodice with trembling fingers, barely decent, and bolted into the shadows of the trees, just as Clara’s voice rang out clear in the clearing.

"Anybody here?"

I pressed my hand over my mouth, silencing my ragged breathing, and watched from the darkness as Clara stepped into the moonlight, her eyes scanning the trees where I stood.