When the Alpha Claimed Me... It Was Already Too Late novel · Chapter 1 of 12
Chapter 1: The Craziest Thing
Three men destined for me left me before I turned twenty-two.
All three did it because of the same woman.
Her name was Greta Zuniga, she had a smile that smelled like honey, and every time she showed up in a pack, someone ended up rejecting me.
That's why, on the night of the Southern Packs Council, I didn't feel fear when I saw her walk in.
She was wearing a bottle-green dress and crossed the hall of the Valdivia estate.
I felt tired.
I was sitting next to my mate, Alpha Elio Crespo, at the main table of the Black Thorn Pack.
I wore the Moon's silver pendant on my chest.
I'd been wearing it for three years.
Three years since Elio claimed me in front of everyone, under the Moon's Oath, with his open hand over my heart.
"She'll never come near you again," he had promised me then.
And he had rejected her every time.
In the council chamber, he'd said Greta was a schemer, a liar, and a disgrace to the southern packs.
I had believed him.
That night, Elio didn't even look at her when she passed by our table.
I did.
Greta sat down with a group of young she-wolves from the White Oak Pack, ten meters away from me.
She ordered wine.
She laughed with them.
And someone—one of those nosy she-wolves who live off rumors—asked her with her glass raised:
"Greta, tell us. What's the craziest thing you've ever done in your life?"
Greta wet her lips.
She looked up at the ceiling, eyes distant, like someone remembering a good taste.
"Easy," she said. "Getting Elio Crespo to mark me."
The she-wolves stifled a gasp.
I kept my gaze fixed on the tablecloth.
"His mate still believes, like a fool, that he really hates me." Greta laughed softly. "The truth is, I carried his pup in my womb. I lived on his territory. I drove his truck. I spent his money."
She paused for dramatic effect.
"And she never figured it out."
Murmurs rose through the hall like a tide.
One by one, heads turned toward me.
Everyone knew who I was.
The Moon of Black Thorn.
The foolish wife.
I felt my she-wolf rise up inside my chest, bristling, fangs ready.
I put a mental hand on her.
Easy, I told her. Not yet.
Elio stood up abruptly.
"Amber."
His voice was tense.
"Amber, listen to me. It's a lie. She's trying to destroy us."
I looked at him.
He was a tall man, broad-shouldered, with dark amber eyes and a jaw that was always hard.
He was my mate.
I would have torn my arm off for him, three hours earlier.
Now I saw what I hadn't wanted to see for two years.
When he was accused of lying, he didn't get angry.
He got scared.
An innocent wolf gets furious.
A guilty one goes pale.
Elio was pale.
"Amber, please."
I didn't answer.
With my right hand, I pulled my phone out of my clutch.
With my left, I held my glass of water so the trembling wouldn't show.
I opened a file.
An application I'd drafted over three entire days.
I wrote it in the early mornings when Elio came home late and his clothes carried a scent that wasn't his.
I'd written it without knowing if I'd ever have the courage to send it.
I put my finger on it.
Send.
Elio leaned toward me.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing," I said.
Greta was watching me from across the hall with a satisfied cat's smile, waiting for my scene.
A scream, tears, a broken glass.
I gave her nothing.
I smiled at her.
And I waited.
Thirty seconds later, a clear voice resonated in my mind.
It wasn't Elio's voice, or my she-wolf's.
It was the mental link of the New Moon Healing Corps, the neutral network of healers across the continent.
"Your application has been approved."
I held my breath.
"The New Moon Healing Corps welcomes you as Head Healer. Your office and residence have been prepared at the Coyhaique headquarters."
My she-wolf let out a low, long growl.
Not out of rage.
Out of relief.
I stood up, slowly.
I smoothed my dress.
I left my napkin neatly folded beside my plate.
"Amber," Elio whispered. "Say something."
I looked into his eyes one last time as my mate.
"In two days," I said quietly, just for him, "I'm leaving this pack."
His mouth fell open.
"And I don't plan on looking back."
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